Chapter 9 – Confrontation and Surprise Visit

I rolled out of bed on Monday morning, realizing that I had survived my first month of my new life. I had sort of made friends with Emilee, the popular fashion queen, but it was rather difficult to tell since it didn't seem that her two closest friends cared for me. I had made more progress with the band geeks, Jeffrey and Maggie, which was unsurprising considering the fact that I had always gravitated towards those more musically inclined than I, and the nerds, Dani and Regan, who are also making bets on how long I'll last as "Tombs's" partner. The two people I did not know where I stood with were Max and Evan.

Max is continually waffling between treating me as just a friend to hinting that he wants to be more than friends. The latter is always catching me by surprise, so I never know how to take him.

Mr. Keegan, on the other hand, has gone from not talking to me, to treating me as an acquaintance, to downright insulting me, and with the new information that Zach provided me on Saturday, I'm at a complete loss.

Before I went out the door, I left a note, reminding Ian that Regan would be coming over to study chemistry tonight, next to his percolator so that he would see it when he went to make his second cup of coffee. The reasoning behind my doing the history paper this weekend was because I knew that tonight I would be all tied up trying to help Regan understand subatomic particles, when all she comprehends is that they are really tiny. I had to roll my eyes at this. She's a nerd, but a soon-to-be English major type of nerd.

When I got to school, the first thing I noticed was Emilee directing Tiffany and Genevieve in hanging up bright pink posters announcing the Valentine's Day school dance. I stopped and made a roundabout and complicated detour that would have made the town's planner extremely envious. It was too early to deal with Valentine's Day drama.

I spent the rest of my day carefully avoiding the topic. It's not that I'm a die hard anti-couples' day girl. I'm actually quite apathetic about it. I don't understand the drama surrounding this highly commercialized day devoted to a concept that most of the world doesn't even understand. As a result I try to steer clear of discussing this day that usually produces extreme reactions.

Anyways, I managed to successfully accomplish this mission with only a small hiccup at lunch, when Emilee casually asked me if I was going to go.

"I might," I replied noncommittally. She might have asked me more. I don't know, and I didn't frankly care at the time either because at that moment I saw the occupants of the far back table, and my stomach began to twist and tighten at the thoughts of the coming confrontation.

I noticed that she wasn't eating again. Not even her normal fallback of semi-fresh produce. She looked upset. She had been acting odd all day today too. From my office window this morning, I noticed her careful maneuvering around the school with her hood up and head tucked down.

What the hell was going on with this girl?

I wanted desperately to ask her just that in class today, but I never got my chance. When it was time to break into pairs, she turned her chair to face me but didn't move it any closer, crossed her arms, and leaned back while squinting at me accusingly.

A million possible things ran through my mind, but what came out of her mouth was not among them.

"So, I hear that you went out of your way to not have me as your partner. Care to explain?"

I sighed and rubbed my hands through my hair with frustration as I searched for an answer, so I stalled. "You heard about that huh? I kinda hoped that you somehow wouldn't, and I even believed you didn't when you hadn't mentioned it before now."

"Well, I did," she stonily replied.

New tactic: go on the offensive. "You know, when Jasper told me that you were gutsy enough to have a staring contest with Edward that first week, I didn't believe him. I told myself that you didn't have it in you. I guess, I was wrong." I imperiously shrugged, dismissing the matter as of no consequence.

"I guess you were."

I just looked at her with a raised eyebrow waiting for her to cave. Although her voice and attitude were full of determination not to give me an inch, her tale-tell sign was giving her discomfort away. I admired her for trying, but she was no match for my Irish stubbornness, nor was her desire for answers as great as my need to avoid them.

"Is that all you have to say?!" she gestured with great irritation.

At this point I thought it was better to retreat, and simply resorted to the day's predetermined topic: favorite types of food.

She readjusted her chair so that it wasn't facing me directly and fired back her answers in nearly monosyllabic format.

If I hadn't been so confused about how wrong I was about her and my feelings of regret for hurting her, I would have laughed at this little tantrum. In comparison to Rosalie's towering terrors, she was like a little Yorkshire terrier yelping its itty-bitty frustrations to only half the house.

I wondered then if she would ever forgive me. But then again, isn't it better this way?

She keeps her safe distance from me, and I …I watch from afar just like I did the last time.

"So what's up with you?" Regan asked me, most likely perturbed at my surly attitude. It's not the best one to have when dealing with someone as confused as she is about chemistry.

"Nothing really… I just …woke up on the wrong side of the bed today." I finished lamely. She looked at me, but for some reason known only to her, she let it go. If this had been my friend Ashley, I would not have gotten off the hook so easily, so for the first time in a long time, I did not resent that she was there, and I was here.

The doorbell rang then, and since Ian was in his workshop, I had to go and get it.

When I opened the door, I beheld a tall, willowy woman in her late twenties with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes and a tan complexion that I knew many women were courting cancer for.

She bounced on her heels, grabbed my hand, and waltzed right in, into my own home dragging me with her exclaiming, "Oh good, it's you. The very person I was hoping to meet. Not that I don't mind talking to Ian, but I have this feeling he shares the same view as Papa that I'm behaving like a very bad daughter bringing my beau around to meet the family only after I'm engaged."

"Er – Ronnie?" Not really recognizing her since the last time I saw her she was just entering puberty and was bemoaning the fact that she had to wear glasses, as if my nine year-old self really cared.

"Yes, it's me. I'm sorry for not introducing myself. That was rather rude of me, wasn't it? But I just recognized you instantly, I mean, you haven't changed a whole lot since the last time I saw you."

"Would you like some tea?" I interjected before she could insult me further.

"Oh yes that would be nice," she agreed readily.

I was met in the kitchen by Regan. "Who is that?"

"Um, Old Tink's daughter. You know the one who moved to New Orleans to write?" I whispered back.

"Is she going to be long, you suppose?" she asked while nervously checking her watch, most likely having heard through the grapevine the purpose for her return to town.

I bit my lip, wondering that myself along with why she needed to meet with me. "I don't know, but why don't you come in with me so that maybe she will decide to come back later if she wants an extended visit."

When we went back out to the den, I saw the reason for why she hadn't followed me into the kitchen when the water for the tea took an exceptionally long time to boil. Ian was thankfully keeping her entertained.

"Oh no, Alex isn't with me this trip. The restaurant he works at cancelled his leave because their other chef came down sick." She explained unconcernedly. "The truth is that this gives me more time to win Papa over to the idea of me marrying an American, even if he has some French ancestry."

"I don't think it's the nationality that your father objects to," Ian attempted to explain, but it looked as if his words were falling on deaf ears, which was not unusual when dealing with Ronnie, if I remembered correctly.

"Here's your tea, Ronnie," I said in the way of announcing our presence, "and this is Regan. She's a friend from school who's here to study with me for our chemistry test."

Regan being her usually blunt self stated very dramatically, "Yeah, our big chemistry test, the kind that makes you want to hurl yourself out of a window, kind of big."

"Oh, I understand. Don't worry this won't take long, and then you can go back to banging your head against your books," she reassured with a chuckle. Her laugh was like someone who knew of the frustrations of stumbling their way through the maze of scientific jargon and had earned the right to gloat about how they lived to tell the harrowing tale. Ugh.

"I was telling your father, Cadie, the reason for my little visit," she continued.

"Which is …?" I prompted trying to hide my impatience. The quicker she left, the quicker I could get done with studying, and the quicker I could go to bed, hopefully able to start the new day with a better outlook on life.

"I wanted to ask if you would be my bridesmaid." It was more of a question than a statement, but it still took me awhile to respond since I spilt my tea all over myself mid-sip.

"Um…I dunno… When is it? The wedding, I mean," I asked stalling.

"The second week of June, so you see why I am all in a rush to begin planning," she stated matter-of-factly.

At Ian's pleading look, I finally answered with an affirmative, "Sure, Ronnie, but do me a favor and don't make the bridesmaid dresses too frilly and froo-frooey." I stated by way of compromise, hoping to maintain some dignity.

"Oh! No, you don't have to worry about that. Although they won't be as plain as Jessie's, I'll make certain that they are in good taste," was her not so encouraging reply. I had thought the bridesmaid dresses of her sister's wedding had been elegant in their simplicity, at least from what I had seen from the pictures.

I was about to get up and cut this interview short, when she asked me, "What are you doing on Valentine's Day weekend? I tried to free up my schedule so that I could focus more on the wedding, and unfortunately that is one of those weekends that my editor gave me off but Alex's restaurant understandably didn't. Anywho, I thought that would be a good time to pick out the bridesmaid dresses."

Oh dear God. Shopping and trying on dresses with an exuberant bride-to-be who is separated from her fiancé on Valentine's Day, and whom you barely know, but enough to know that your tastes and hers do not coincide at all. There are no words to describe the forthcoming mental agony.

I looked to Regan to help me find an excuse and she brilliantly supplied, "Oh, I'm sorry but I've already got dibs on her. She took pity on me and agreed to be my date for the weekend, since Valentine's Day always makes me so blue." I nearly choked on my tea, making yet another mess, at her pathetic delivery and easily misconstrued phrasing.

"Cadie, didn't tell me about this." Ian objected. "Where are you going?"

"To the city to watch that new horror flick…"

"Well, that won't do. Cadie hates horror movies, even I know that." Ronnie inserted appearing to still be struggling with getting over her disappointment.

Regan mouthed at me "You do?" in disbelief, while Ronnie seemed to be searching for an alternative plan.

I nodded, not surprised that she did.

Ronnie seemed to have found it because she became all excited again, "I know! Why don't I drive with you guys into the city and we can have an all-girl's weekend? I could visit with my sister while you two go and do your thing. It will be just perfect!"

In a last ditch attempt to extract myself from her claws, I tried to find a flaw in her plan, "Um … isn't Jessie going to have plans with her husband?"

"No, he has to work that night at the hospital." She turned to explain to Regan, "They both are serving their residencies." All Regan did was nod. Poor girl, in helping me it looked as if she got herself stuck in a situation that she dreaded more than I did. The only thing that could have been worse is if she had just been suckered into being a third wheel to a sickeningly sweet and mushy couple. She's one of those ultra-anti-lovey-dovey types.

Although I knew it was in my power to save my new friend and myself from this oncoming train wreck, I couldn't say no. It would be like I had just told Simon that there would be no more Christmases, ever again. So I said, "Sure, that sounds like a good idea. Why don't you call me, when you get the chance, and we can hammer out the details then? I have to finish studying for my test though." And as politely as possible I extricated myself and Regan from that incredibly awkward situation.

"Sorry about that," I apologized as we re-situated ourselves in my room.

"Don't worry about it. This gives me an excuse to refuse my older sister's request to baby-sit her kids that weekend while she dates her current loser." She stated nonchalantly, and then she smirked at me with a wicked gleam in her eyes, "And this also gives you a valid excuse to turn down those poor boys who are planning on asking you out."

I groaned at this. Of all the potential problems that I had expected in coming to a small town, being the fresh meat on the market was not one of them. Well, Regan was right: I now had a valid excuse in turning the coming offers down. I was thankful that I didn't have to lie to them because I didn't want to be one of those girls. People ought to be honestly told, but as gently as possible, that they are not liked. It's the decent thing to do. A lesson that Mr. Keegan had obviously never learned.

He probably was ditching that day when they offered that lesson on how to be human, I mused bitterly to myself before returning to explaining the value of neutrons in atoms to my clueless friend.

AN: In honor of the upcoming holiday, I give you two chapters yet again... ; )

Enjoy!