You would have thought that over the beating rain I would have heard Mercedes drive my truck in. But even with continuous glances out my curtain it had suddenly appeared out of thin air.
Rachel was extremely Rachel come Friday. She kept pressing for news about Luke and I would have gladly given her the gossip—except for the part where there was nothing to tell. Finn had kept quiet about Luke's involvement in my little dramatic episode so Rachel remained oblivious. That didn't stop her asking questions about the lunch though. She caught up with me in Trig. "So what did Luke Hemmings want yesterday?"
I went to shrug casually but she stopped me, "You can't get off that easy, Carrie! When two people's mouths are moving it's conversation—and you and Luke seemed deep in it."
"He never really got to the point," I answered truthfully.
"You seemed kind of mad," she pointed, fishing for more information.
"I did?" I asked surprised.
"You know, Luke never sits with anyone but his family. Trust me, I would know. It was really weird."
"Weird...? How so?"
But even with my superb acting skills at remaining inconspicuous, Rachel's eyes grew wide and it dawned on her. "Oh my... I knew it! You like him!"
"Excuse me?" I retorted, one eyebrow raised but only because I had nothing else to shoot back. Inside my heart was racing... why couldn't Rachel be oblivious like Brittany?
"It's okay," she said writing down several trig problems, at an incredible speed, "I won't judge you—two dad's remember?"
I was starting to get nervous and my writing was starting to suffer, "It really isn't like that," I pressed. "You've got it all wrong. Besides, I like someone else."
She kept up her furious writing pace, "Really? Who? Because Sam's taken too."
"Rachel..."
"And I'm still dating Finn."
"Rachel!"
"Is something the matter?" Mr. Varner asked, walking past our table and looming taller than ever as he looked down on us.
"No sir, not at all," I lied sheepishly. He seemed to buy it and continued to walk. Rachel however, thank God, did not pick up the nerve to talk to me again.
At lunch, Finn had taken over, chatting animatedly of Saturday's plans. Rapt in the attention he was showing her with his arm around her as he talked, Rachel did not press me any further. I personally was looking forward to the warmer weather Finn firmly believed in—at least the day would be a little brighter.
But as depressing as I knew it was, I couldn't help looking over at the table where Quinn, Mercedes and Sam were sitting, talking only amongst themselves. Despite Luke telling me that he wouldn't be here today, a tiny part of me had still hoped that he would be.
That night at dinner, Jack seemed exceptionally enthusiastic that I had agreed to go to La Push with Finn and his friends. He kept repeating how wonderful he thought it was that we were spending time together, and how happy Carole would be to know that we were getting along, and how proud he was that I was making such an effort to get to really know Finn better.
"Honestly Dad, with the way you're going on, you'd think you'd want me to date him!"
I had said it without thinking, not worrying of the implications, but Jack seemed to have some. He swallowed his food gently, placing his fork softly on the table and spoke very slowly.
