Lauren measures out a cup of sugar and dumps it into a big mixing bowl. "So, why don't you call him and apologize?"

That gets me all fired up again. "Because! Marissa was flirting with him, and he was probably encouraging it!"

"Did you see him flirting back?" she asks practically. "Did he touch her?"

"No, but he was smiling at her, and talking to her!"

Lauren just looks at me. I smack myself in the face. Baby Brianna laughs heartily, spitting peas in my hair. I make a disgusted face, and she laughs harder. Babies are so easy.

"You don't understand," I tell Lauren, while wiping peas out of my hair with a wet wipe. "Girls are always. .h.i.tting on him-it's so annoying!"

"He can't help that," Lauren points out. She's huffing slightly from her efforts in stirring her ingredients together. "Guys stare at you and hit on you all the time. Do you take any of them up on their offers."

I sigh loudly. "No, but it's not the same thing! I'm mean to all them. Plus-guys never hit on me when I'm with Zane! I feel like the sad little wife of a celebrity. Our balance of power is very uneven. I don't like being the insecure one in the relationship. And, yeah, I know I'm probably in the wrong here, but still...it p.i.s.ses me off!"

"Ugh, can you check the spice rack to see if we have cinnamon?" Lauren pushes a lock of wispy blonde hair back with her forearm. "I guess what it comes down to is, do you trust him?"

I consider this. Do I trust Zane? I told him a lot about myself, things that I've never shared with anyone but Lauren. I also know that if I needed him, he'd be there for me. But...did I trust him not to break my heart?

I just don't know.

I check the spice rack for cinnamon, but don't find any. "Nada," I tell Lauren.

She looks confused. "Are you talking about the trust thing, or the cinnamon."

"Yes," I say. I go over to Baby Brianna and pick her up. "Come on, baby. Let's get you cleaned up." She grins toothlessly up at me, and I hug her to me, pea-covered face and all.

"Are you going to call him?" Lauren wants to know.

"Nope," I reply. "But I'll probably see him tomorrow if he comes to the dinner party Mom is having."

"What are you going to say to him?"

I look down at my beautiful glittering bracelet. Brianna is currently using it as a teething ring. "I don't know," I sigh. "I just don't know."

So Mom invited Jane and a few other friends over for dinner tonight. I heard her on the phone asking Zane to come, but she caught me eavesdropping before I could hear his answer.

I don't think he'll come all the way down here for some silly dinner party. Why would he? And he hates me, so...there you go. He's not coming.

Still, I take extra care getting dressed that night. I'm wearing a clingy pink blouse and these tight black pants that I know make my legs look like they go on forever. I wish I could wear my bracelet, but I can't in front of Mom. I can just imagine how that conversation would go.

I'm just putting my hair up in a ponytail when she pokes her head in my room to let me know the guests are arriving.

Okay. I can do this. If Zane comes tonight, I will be cool and calm and offer him an adult apology-nothing too gushy. Then the ball will be in his court.

Cool and calm. Okay.

I go downstairs to greet the guests. I give Jane a hug, and she fidgets nervously. She's still feeling guilty about the whole deceiving Mom thing, and I worry that one day she's going to blurt out the truth. I think about drawing a line across my throat in silent warning, but it seems a bit much. I smile politely at the other guests, not really seeing them.

"I wish Bill could be here today," Mom is saying to her friends. "But you'll get to meet his son, Zane. He should be here any minute."

As if on cue, the doorbell chimes. Mom asks me to get it, and I stare at her vacantly. She has to ask again before I finally get moving.

Here we go. I put a neutral smile on my face before opening the door.

Zane stands on the other side.

And he's not alone.

Chapter 20.

Standing next to Zane is a pretty dark haired girl, probably about his age. She is short and just a bit on the chubby side, but with eyes the color of emeralds. Her green sweater and long velvet skirt make her seem romantic and kind of witchy. I can just tell she's the type of cool laidback chick guys find s.e.xy.

"Hi, Violet," the jerk says with his half-smile. "Can we come in?"

"Oh, why not?" I mutter, moving aside. I slam the door shut behind them.

"So, you're Violet," Zane's new girlfriend says with a knowing smile at him.

"I guess so."

Mom comes into the room and goes straight to the hugging, of course. "Zane! I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Thanks for having me." Zane straightens and gestures to the girl. "Lily, this is the old friend I was telling you about, Jenna. Jen, this is Lily, my father's soon to be wife."

"Thanks for letting me tag along," Jenna-Jen-says sweetly, shaking Mom's hand.

"Not at all, we're happy to have you," Mom replies enthusiastically. "It's so nice to meet a friend of Zane's. Oh, this is my daughter, Violet."

Jenna turns to me with her lovely green eyes. "It's great to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

I glare at Zane, instantly paranoid. So he's talking to his little girlfriend about me?! Did he tell her how immature I am?

He seems amused by my reaction. He leans over to murmur something in dear Jenna's ear. Her eyes widen and she nods quickly.

Mom finally senses the tension in the room and is puzzled by it. She raises her eyebrows at me, trying to decipher my stiff expression. Shaking her head, she herds us into the sitting room with the other guests.

I keep on the opposite side of the room from the happy couple, forcing poor Jane into an intense conversation about reality television. I can't resist peeking over at Zane and Jenna, however, and it makes me grit my teeth to see them talking with so much familiarity.

How dare he bring a girl over here! I mean, really? After what happened? Is he trying to shove my face in it, or what? Grr...

I do a good job of avoiding them until dinnertime. As luck would have it, they are seated right across from me. I alternate between wanting to sink down into my seat and disappear, and wanting to flick my peas at them with my spoon.

Fortunately, I decide that both urges are beneath me. I can be an adult about this. So, he brought another girl over here after we just had a fight about him being a giant flirt, a gift-giving, receptionist dancing, tricks-up-his-sleeve mother- Okay, you know what? We never actually said we were officially together. So, he can do whatever he wants. And so can I.

I turn to the good-looking boy next to me and start a lame conversation about the weather. Cute Boy seems thrilled that I'm talking to him, and he's nice. We get on the topic of music, and it turns out he likes Aiden Cross, and the McPigs, too. Meanwhile, I resist the temptation to look over at Zane.

Well, I don't resist it very well. I surrept.i.tiously peek at him from the corner of my eye. Guess what? He's not even looking over here! He's talking to an older-looking woman sitting on his other side. I think her name is Lorraine-one of Mom's old co-workers. They're having a grand old time laughing about something. Me, maybe? No, I'm being paranoid.

"...so, do you think you'd want to go? With me?" Cute Boy is saying.

"I'm sorry, what?" I tune him back in, an apologetic smile on my lips.

Cute Boy clears his throat nervously. "The dance on Sat.u.r.day. Do you think you'd want to go...with me? Our school really goes all out for dances. I heard this one time, they rented out an ice rink, and kids were just skating and dancing...doesn't that sound awesome?"

"Oh, yeah," I say uncomfortably, fidgeting awkwardly in my chair. "But I don't really go to dances, and my schedule is so packed, what with school and work."

Cute Boy looks so crestfallen, I start feeling really bad. "Oh," he says. "That's okay. I didn't really think someone as pretty as you would say yes to me, but I figured I'd give it a shot."

Aw. I feel even worse, especially since I was using him to make Zane jealous. It wouldn't hurt me to be nicer about my rejection. "Um," I start to say. "When did you say it was?"

"Well, Sat.u.r.day, but they also-"

"Oh, too bad. I work on the weekends. I totally would have gone, otherwise."

"Really?" Cute Boy suddenly perks up in a way I really don't like. "That's great, because I was going to say they have the fall dance that we can go to on the Friday before. It's actually for seniors only, but I can totally get us in! My older brother's friends with the band."

"Oh, no...I mean..." I trail off and stare at him suspiciously. "Wait, what did you say about the senior thing?"

"Yeah, it's only for seniors, but-"

"Well, you two look like you're having a good time!"

A beaming blonde-haired woman descends on us, patting Cute Boy on the back. She's got that soccer mom look about her, and I don't like the way she's eyeing me with that speculative gleam in her eye.

"Oh, yeah, Mom," Cute Boy says eagerly. "Guess what? Violet's going to the dance with me!"

"Oh, Jakey!" she exclaims so, so loudly. "You're going to your first freshman dance, and with an older woman!"

Freshman?!

I have lost the ability to blink. I look closely at Jakey for the first time. Smooth tender skin with no hint of facial hair, faint pockmarks from what I a.s.sume is a recent bout of forehead acne...awkward, puppy dog look, overall...

Oh.

"Violet," Mom calls from her seat at the head of the table. "Did I hear right? You're going to a school dance?"

"With Jakey!" Soccer Mom announces proudly. "It's his first dance-isn't that sweet. And I'm sure he'll score major cool points showing up with a hot babe like Violet!"

"Mom," Jakey groans, embarra.s.sed.

Don't do it, Violet. Don't look over at Zane. Don't...

I do.

Our eyes meet. His dark brown eyes are shiny with held-in laughter. He raises his eyebrows at me like, "Really, Violet?"

I'm being punished, right? That must be it. This is what I get for being a silly jealous girl.

Cheeks flaming, I refuse to look up for the rest of the meal. Jakey acts as if we're dating and slings a possessive arm along the top of my chair.

Meanwhile, Jenna decides to pepper me with questions: where do I work, what school do I go to, what do I like to do for fun, etc. On the other hand, she seems to know an awful lot about me already. She is genuinely interested, and I find myself wanting to know about her, too.

"Zane and I go way back," Jenna says, poking his arm. He smiles, but doesn't say anything. "He was always the hottest guy in school, and I was just the dumpy girl who hung out with him. And now look at him, a-"

"Pain in the a.s.s," Zane interjects smoothly. "I'm sure Violet would agree."

"I do, and you are," I say coolly.

Jenna laughs, pushing her her long hair behind one ear. "That's right, you tell him. This guy here is used to getting everything he wants."

"Well, not everything." Zane's intense gaze settles on me. "Not yet."

We stare at each other for endless seconds. Why does being near him have to feel like this-a combination of crushing pleasure and soaring pain? The intensity of my feelings for him scare me, and the way he's looking at me now...it's like he's reading my thoughts.

A hand on my thigh breaks my Zane-induced trance.

I glare at Jakey and shove his hand off of me. He gives me a giant gap-toothed smile in return. I ignore him.

"So, Jenna," I say. "Do you live in L.A.?"

"No, I'm actually in town town for a few days to visit friends, then it's back to good ol' NYU. Although, I may consider moving back if I get to hang out in Zane's Jacuzzi all night like we've been doing."

She smiles up at him, and I throw up a little.

What?!

Throwing off Jakey's wandering hand again, I ask in a choked voice, "You're staying with Zane?" I don't even look his way.

"Yeah. He's the best! You would be so jealous if you knew how soft his bed is."

His bed? Oh, G.o.d.

I can feel the blood drain from my face. I finally look at Zane, unable to speak, move.

He sees my stricken expression, and his eyes widen. "Jen. You're giving Violet the wrong impression."

"Huh?" Jenna frowns, and turns to me. She appears to mentally replay her words. Finally, she gasps. "Oh, no, it's not what it sounds like! I meant his guest bed! I'm sorry! It's not like that with us. It's never been."

I don't know what to think or say, so I don't say anything. There's a good chance I might burst into tears. Numbly, I remove Jakey's hand from my knee.