Girls in Pants - Ann Brashares [57]
“Hey?”
“Carmen, hi. It’s David.”
“What’s up?” Most of the warmth in her voice evaporated.
“I just wanted to thank you. The way you took care of your mother yesterday. You don’t know how much it meant to her. And to me, too. I wanted to be there so bad myself and I really just can’t tell you how—”
“It’s fine,” Carmen interrupted. “No problem.”
“Really, Carmen. I really—”
“Okay.” She didn’t want him to keep going on about this. “Are you still in St. Louis?”
“No, I’m home,” he said heavily.
Why was she annoyed at him? It wasn’t his fault he worked like a dog. He had a family to provide for now. He took his responsibilities seriously. Blah blah blah.
“So I’ll see you later,” she said.
“Oh, Carmen—one other thing?”
“Yeah?”
“I left my phone recharger in the hotel in St. Louis. Could I borrow yours?” It was well known that they had the exact same cell phone. Sometimes it seemed like the only conversation piece between them. He had the ring that sounded like a polka. He thought it was hugely entertaining.
“Sure. It’s in the outlet by my night table,” she said.
“The hotel said they’d send mine back. I told them I’m going to need it.”
Why were there conversations always so stilted? “Yep. You are,” Carmen said. “Well, bye.”
“Bye.”
She hung up. When she put her phone back in her bag, she realized the recharger was coiled in the bottom of it. Oh. Oops.
Lena was squinting, trying to figure out whom Carmen was talking to. “David?” she finally guessed.
“Yeah.”
“I knew it wasn’t anybody you liked very much.”
“I like him all right,” Carmen said, the slightest petulance creeping into her voice. She sighed. “I should be nicer, shouldn’t I?”
“I’m not answering that.”
Carmen got a mischievous smile on her face. “I know what to do. I’ll invite Win to have dinner with my mom and me and David.” She laughed. “That’ll set him straight.”
Tibby:
Beach equipment & tunes.
No techno crap, as per discussion.
Bee and Me:
Food. A lot. Mostly high-calorie snacks with
extra trans fats. (I think I like those. What
are they, anyway?)
Lena:
Other household goods.
(Kleenex in addition to toilet paper, missy.)
Please make your donations ($60, and I mean cash
money) to the Rehoboth Beach First Annual Precollege
Dream Weekend Fund, aka Carmen’s wallet.
And I mean soon, dang it.
Since Lena had heard about Paul’s being in town overnight, she’d been thinking of him. Finally she got up the nerve to call him at Carmen’s, and she asked him to come over. He wasn’t in her family, obviously, but she felt a pressing urge to draw his picture.
She didn’t want to avoid him anymore.
That afternoon, charcoal in hand, she met him at the door. She hugged him stiffly. She felt her heart jump a little at the way he looked. Older, sadder, even more handsome.
Somewhat mutely, he followed her to the kitchen.
You two are way too much alike, Carmen said about Lena and Paul and their combined inability to carry on a conversation. Carmen had had high hopes for them once.
“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked him.
He looked nervous. “No, thank you.”
She gestured for him to sit down across from her at the kitchen table. She ran a hand through her hair. She’d brushed it for this occasion. “I have kind of a weird favor to ask of you,” she said.
Now he really looked scared. But not unwilling. “Okay.”
“Would it be all right if I drew a picture of you? It would take around an hour or an hour and a half. Just a sketch of you from here up.” She indicated at her collarbone, lest he run from her house in panic. “You see, I’m making a portfolio of drawings of people, because I’m trying to win this scholarship to RISD. Otherwise, I can’t go to art school, and I really want to. Do you think that would be okay?” She had never said so much to him all at one time.
He nodded. “I’d like that,” he said.
She had an idea. “Maybe we’ll go outside.”
He followed her out to the backyard. She didn’t picture him on a lounge chair by the pool or anything. She surveyed the possibilities. There was a tree stump in