Page 29 of The Husband Hour
Lauren felt Matt watching her, and she struggled to maintain a poker face. Had he noticed Stephanie’s split second of hesitation before answering the question? Because Lauren saw it. She followed it with a sharp intake of her own breath, not exhaling until Stephanie spoke. “I mean, we hung out. Went to the same parties. I went out with some of his friends.”
So she did have some sense of decency. It wasn’t that Lauren wanted Stephanie to lie, but why make something insignificant into a tawdry sound bite? For once, her sister had showed some class and restraint.
Really, it wasn’t a big deal. Lauren hadn’t thought about the night of the party for years now.
It had been early fall in her sophomore year of high school, a few weeks after Lauren first spotted Rory at practice. After the day at track, she’d seen him only one more time. Her second sighting happened during sixth period, when the halls were empty. She’d left the newspaper classroom to pick up a USB drive from the science room and passed him. They were the only two people in the hallway, and it was as if there were a magnetic field around him. Her heart pounded so hard she was afraid she would faint. Again, they made intense eye contact. But neither said a word.
She felt a high that lasted for hours.
Two weeks before Thanksgiving break, her parents went to New York for a wedding. They warned Stephanie: “No parties.”
“I know!” Stephanie said.
By seven that night, a Friday, their house was wall-to-wall people. It was surreal for Lauren to see upperclassmen she recognized from the hallways suddenly in her living room, sitting paired off on the stairs, drinking from a keg in her dining room. She drifted among the crowd, practically invisible, a stranger in her own house.
When she got tired of trying to find someone to talk to, when she lost track even of Stephanie, she retreated upstairs. At the second-floor landing, she heard Stephanie’s bedroom door click open.
“Steph?” she called out. But it wasn’t Stephanie.
It was the hockey player.
Seeing those dark eyes flash at her just feet from her own bedroom was the shock of her life. The only thing saving her from a complete freak-out was the realization that he was surprised to see her too.
“I’m looking for my sister,” she said.
“Stephanie?”
Lauren nodded.
“She’s in there.”
With that, he brushed past her, went down the stairs. It took a minute for her to breathe normally again. It also took that time to process the fact that the boy she had been obsessing over for a month had just walked out of her sister’s bedroom. Maybe they’re just friends, she told herself, inching toward Steph’s room.
She knocked softly on the door.
“Party’s downstairs,” Stephanie called out.
“It’s me.”
Silence. The door opened a crack. Stephanie was wearing cutoff jean shorts and a tank top. She was braless, her breasts barely concealed by the thin fabric. Barefoot, she smoked a cigarette.
“What’s going on?” Stephanie asked. Her eyeliner was smudged.
“I’m going to bed,” Lauren said.
“With who?” A wicked little smile.
“Ha-ha. Very funny,” Lauren said.
“Yeah. Okay, whatever. See you in the morning.”
“Wait—Steph?”
“Yeah?”
“Who was that guy I just saw leaving here?”
“Oh. That’s Rory Kincaid. Hottie, right?”
