The Naughty List (The Naughty List #1)(15)
Author: Suzanne Young

Uncomfortable with his seemingly reluctant compliment for Kira, I darted a glance to Chloe. She gave me a thumbs-up, but she didn’t smile. In fact, I think she was mocking me. I turned around.

They made me uneasy. Very uneasy.

“He said I was nice,” Kira quietly squealed from the floor next to me, rustling a pom-pom in her lap.

I nodded, trying to be enthusiastic. “He sure did. You two are so strawberry smoothie.”

She shrugged. “Well, I think he might have a little crush on you….” She reached up to twist one of her curls as she looked down at her lap. Then she looked sideways at me and grinned. “But it’s not like he has a chance with you when Aiden’s around. And that boy sure isn’t going anywhere.”

“Nope,” I said, glancing out over the court to where Aiden was standing on the sidelines, talking to Coach Taylor. “My boyfriend is total Elmer’s glue.”

“Definitely.” She winked and then turned to look where Christian was sitting and waved to him. I didn’t see if he responded, but by Kira’s little clap and giggle, I assumed he had.

Still, I didn’t feel that Christian had been nearly enthusiastic enough about Kira’s cheer. I was going to have to use SOS tactics to find out his deal. And then find out how to get Kira shuffled in his deck.

“Honey,” my mother yelled from the front door on Sunday night.

Yay! They were home. I left my calculus book open on my bed and jogged out of my room into the brightly lit kitchen, happy my parents were back.

“Hi,” I said, kissing her cheek and reaching out to take her carry-on bag off her shoulder. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Oh, he’s getting the suitcases.” She smoothed my hair back toward my ponytail. “You here alone?” She looked past me into the living room as she set her keys on the granite counter.

“Yep.”

“No Aiden?” She frowned.

“He left earlier. Some basketball stuff.”

“Oh, darn.” She snapped her fingers. “We brought him some gifts from Seattle. We saw a basketball game and bought him a T-shirt.”

I smiled. My parents were so good to him. “He’ll be back for dinner,” I said. “I didn’t think you guys were coming in until Monday morning.” Although Aiden really liked my parents, he’d certainly be disappointed that we couldn’t finish what we’d started this morning. Oh, well. We had the rest of our lives to love each other.

“There’s my girl,” my father called as he walked in the door, dragging two huge suitcases behind him, his glasses wet with sprinkles of rain.

“Daddy!” I trotted over and hugged him.

“I got you presents.” He grinned, taking off his eyewear to dry it on his shirt.

“You guys know you don’t have to get me something every time you leave. I’m not five anymore.” My father pretended to pout as he put his glasses back on. I shook my head at him.

It was hard to remember the times when we weren’t like this. When I was in junior high, my parents had split up. In fact, they’d gotten divorced. I swallowed hard just thinking about it. Luckily, they made up and moved back in together. I had the most happily unmarried parents in the world.

“Fine,” my father said, lifting his chin. “If you don’t want it—”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it.” I laughed and took one of the suitcases from him, wheeling it into the kitchen next to my mother. My father pecked her on the lips as he passed.

“We sold out the club, Tess,” my mother said, stepping behind the counter slab to look through the stack of mail. “Sold out the whole place. They booked us again for the end of the month.”

“Wow.” I sat down at the kitchen table. “Things are really taking off.” After twenty years of playing together, my parents had finally begun to see the success they had wanted—no more private lessons to make ends meet.

It was nice to know that things could work out. In all that time, they’d only quit playing once. When they were divorced.

Shifting uncomfortably at the table, I began to pick at the linen tablecloth. Their divorce wasn’t something I liked to think about. It was one of the few things I couldn’t see the bright side of.

I had been in seventh grade when it happened. Up until then, I’d always thought my parents were happy. But then one day, my dad moved out. It was awful. The house felt so empty without him here—without the sounds of his saxophone.

My mom began crying a lot. She dropped her music students and spent all of her time writing really sad love songs. Some of which have now become their most requested sets.

When I started splitting my time between my house and my dad’s downtown apartment, I found that my parents still had something in common. Me.

So I tried to make them proud and keep them both positive. I led by example. Aced my tests, joined cheerleading, and most importantly, I was upbeat. Shiny.

It seemed to work. They both got really into my cheerleading, going to all the games and events, and soon, they were sitting in the bleachers together, sharing a box of popcorn.

After a year of being apart, my dad moved back in. And even though they never technically remarried, they were happy. We all were.

My dad came over and pulled out the wooden chair next to me. I dropped my hands into my lap and looked over at him. He took off his glasses to rub at his eyes and then put them back on.

He smiled at me. “Hey, maybe you and Aiden can come with us next time. I know you two like to watch us play. It might be nice to take a weekend trip together.”

“That’s a great idea,” my mother said excitedly from the sink. She walked over to pull a cup out of the white cabinet and filled it with ice from the freezer. “Seattle is so beautiful at night!”

I nodded. “I’m sure Aiden would love to go. He has fun at the shows.”

“Great,” my mom said, filling her glass with water. “We’ll ask him tonight.”

It was nice how perfectly Aiden fit in with my family. And yet I still had the nagging suspicion that I was missing something.

It was seven fifteen, the pasta was on the table, and no Aiden. My parents sat patiently, waiting to eat. The rooms smelled like garlic bread, and my father was practically drooling.

“Did you call him?” he asked, smoothing out the napkin on his lap.

“Yep. His mom said he wasn’t home.” My boyfriend didn’t own a cell phone, and usually he didn’t need one. I was always with him.