The End of Forever Page 2

  Erin tried to keep her expression blank as she sorted through them, but in truth she was tied in knots. Why did she have to be so attracted to him?

  Amy leaned over her elbow. “That’s the one of him kissing me under the mistletoe. His little brother took it, and I thought Travis was going to kill him.”

  Erin’s heart ached, and she quickly handed the photos back to Amy. “They’re nice.”

  “I don’t know why Travis is interested in me,” Amy mused. “I mean he’s only the hottest thing at Berkshire Prep. I think every girl at Briarwood is in love with him.”

  “Not everyone,” Erin said, looking away as she said it.

  “Well, of course I didn’t mean you. But a lot of them are. Cindy Pitzer for instance.” Amy made a face. “She’s been telling people she really likes him and that she’s going after him.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Erin said. “You’re the one he’s dating.”

  “True,” Amy said with a bright smile. She tossed the photos onto her dresser and turned toward Erin. “Oh, by the way, a couple of Travis’s friends have asked me about you. If you ever want to double with us—”

  “No,” Erin interrupted sharply, too sharply, and Amy gave her a surprised look. “I mean, thanks but no thanks. Between school and dance classes, I haven’t got time for dating. You know how much I want to go to Florida State, and the competitions stiff.”

  “But that’s two years away.”

  “I have to concentrate on one thing at a time.”

  “Well, if you change your mind …”

  “You’ll be the first to know.” Despite Amy’s protests Erin returned to her room, but she found she couldn’t get back into studying. She thought about Saturday and her promise to work for her sister. Why had she let Amy talk her into it? Why did she always give in to Amy’s pleas? “Because she’s just Amy,” Erin explained to the empty room.

  With a sense of vengeance, she quickly set her alarm clock for five-thirty, relishing the thought of dragging her sister out of bed for the early rehearsal. At least Amy would be on time for something.

  On Saturday morning Erin poked through the racks of clothes in her mother’s boutique while eyeing the clock. She’d been on duty an hour, and not one customer had stepped through the door. Outside the day looked bleak and blustery, and the parking lot for the small shopping center was nearly deserted. The cool, cloudy day meant there would be few who wanted their cars washed, so the Drama Club’s fundraiser would probably be a flop. “Serves Amy right,” she muttered.

  Erin spied a bright red jumpsuit and impulsively snatched it off the rack and dashed into a dressing room. She emerged and stood at the three-way mirror. The outfit made her look years older, more sophisticated. “Wow,” she mumbled, hardly recognizing herself. She wondered if Travis would think she looked pretty. She closed her eyes and imagined that he was standing next to her.

  “Not bad, Erin. You look terrific.”

  The voice startled Erin. Her eyes flew open wide. In the mirror she saw Travis Sinclair, and he was looking over her shoulder, straight into the glass, straight into her eyes.

  Chapter Three

  “Travis! I—uh—I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I know. I’m sorry if I scared you.” He glanced around the deserted shop. “Where’s Amy? She told me she was working today.”

  “She took off for the afternoon because of the Drama Club car wash.”

  Travis snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah, now I remember. She did tell me about it, along with a million other things. You know how Amy is—fastest mouth in the West.” He grinned, and Erin’s heart beat faster.

  “The car wash is at the gas station near Briarwood.”

  “That’s right. I guess I should drive by and get them to wash mine. Not that it needs washing, but if I don’t take it, Amy will never get off my case.”

  Despite what Travis had said, Erin could tell by his tone how fond he was of her sister.

  He picked a blouse off a rack and held it up. “Actually, Erin … there is something I wanted to ask you.”

  In spite of herself Erin felt her mouth go dry. “What’s that?”

  “Amy’s birthday. It’s two weeks away, and I’m kind of out of ideas for a present. Any suggestions?”

  Erin sagged, suddenly aware of how tense she’d become. “What makes you think she gives her wish list to me?”

  “I was just thinking that since you’re her sister, you could help me pick something special, that’s all. I don’t care what it costs, just as long as Amy likes it.”

  “There’s nothing you couldn’t pick out that she wouldn’t like, Travis, but I did see her going through this stuff last week. She found a sweater she was crazy about. Now, let’s see … which one was it?” Actually, there hadn’t been one, but Erin wanted an excuse to be with him.

  Travis stood next to Erin, watching her hands push through the rack of clothing. “Hope you can find it,” he mumbled.

  “Ah, here it is.” She held up a bright blue sweater for his inspection, grateful that she was familiar with Amy’s tastes.

  “Uh—it’s real nice.” He fingered it. “Soft too.”

  “It’s got angora in it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Rabbit fur.”

  “You sure she liked it?”

  “Positive. But don’t tell her I helped you pick it out. It would be better if she thinks you chose it on your own.”

  Travis nodded. “Fair enough. Can you gift wrap it?”

  Erin rang up the sale and showed him an assortment of wrapping paper. “Which do you like best?”

  Travis knit his brows and pondered. Erin noticed how his wavy dark hair complemented his olive complexion and that his eyelashes were long and thick. “This one,” he said. She fumbled with the paper, begging her hands to obey her will. He lounged against the counter as she worked.

  “Amy talks about you a lot, Erin,” Travis said. “All about what a great dancer you are.”

  “She exaggerates—she just wants to get out of those early-morning rehearsals.”

  “I guess you know her tricks,” he said. “She really does think you’re a terrific sister, Erin. You should hire her as a press agent for your dancing career.”

  “I’m going to college first,” she told him, creating a large pink bow from a spool of satin ribbon. “Then I’ll go after a professional dancing career. Once I get too old to dance professionally, I can still get a good job teaching dance like Ms. Thornton.”

  Travis shook his head. “You and Amy sure are different. You have the rest of your life all planned out, and Amy barely makes it from day to day. She just figures that things will work out her way.”

  “She’s not serious enough. You know—single-minded. She can’t say no to anybody if they ask her for a favor. So she spreads herself too thin.” Suddenly Erin realized that what she was saying might be taken as criticism.

  “That’s one of the things I like about her,” Travis countered. “She’s not like other girls. She’s never too busy to listen if you want to talk. And nothing’s too crazy for her to try.”

  Erin thought of the clown wig and nose. She didn’t know many girls who’d have the guts to do that kind of spontaneous acting. She knew she wouldn’t. Erin sighed, forced a big smile, and held out the neatly wrapped package. “All done.”

  “Hey, that looks good. Think she’ll know I didn’t wrap it?”

  “I’ll never tell,” Erin said. When he took the gift, their hands brushed. She drew back quickly as static electricity snapped between them.

  “I could say this was a shocking experience,” Travis said.

  “Don’t,” Erin said with a groan.

  He crossed to the door and turned. “Thanks, Erin, for the help with the gift and the talk. You may be more like Amy than you think.”

  In an effort to hide her embarrassment, Erin rolled her eyes. “Please don’t tell me that. I don’t think the world’s ready for two Amys.” She watc
hed him drive off, and her heart filled with yearning. More than ever she knew she cared about Travis Sinclair. And more than ever she realized that there was nothing she could do about it. Absolutely nothing.

  Later at home Erin tried to do her homework, but fireworks from the den kept interrupting her concentration. She couldn’t hear much, just the low rumble of her father’s voice and an occasional outburst from Amy such as, “Daddy! You can’t mean that!” and “That’s not fair. I’ve already made plans,” and “It’s a stupid old paper!”

  She heard doors slamming, Amy’s feet running up the hall, and another door slamming. Whatever ultimatum their father had delivered, Amy certainly hadn’t talked him out of it. Erin felt a perverse sense of satisfaction and guilt. She warred with herself. “It’s nothing she doesn’t deserve. This whole house revolves around Amy. I’ll just let her stew about it tonight and ask her about it in the morning.”

  But guilt won out. Erin sneaked down the hall to Amy’s room and tapped on the door. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  Amy was sniffing and hanging up the phone when Erin entered. The room was in its usual state of disaster. She eased onto the bed. “Bad, huh?”

  “The worst.” Amy twisted a tissue around her finger. “Daddy’s grounded me for the entire weekend. And he says that if I don’t finish my history paper by Monday, he won’t let me take my driver’s test on my birthday next Friday. He’ll make me wait a whole month!” Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “Travis and I were supposed to go to a concert tomorrow night, and I just called and told him I couldn’t go.”

  “Oh, Ames,” Erin said, using her sister’s nickname, “that’s a drag.”

  “It sure is.” Amy blew her nose. “Travis really wants to go, and I’m afraid if I don’t go with him and Cindy Pitzer finds out, she might try to get him to take her. I couldn’t stand the thought of him asking anyone else—especially Cindy.” Amy wiped her eyes with her shirtsleeve. “So I came up with an alternate plan.” “Don’t ask me to write your paper,” Erin warned.

  “And I won’t cover for you if you try to sneak out your window either.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.…”

  “Well don’t think about it.”

  “No, I already talked about it with Travis, and he says it’s okay with him if it’s okay with you.”

  “What’s okay?”

  “I don’t want him to go with another girl. And I don’t want him to go alone since his buddies all have dates. So I need for him to go with somebody I can trust.” Amy turned tear-stained, innocent blue eyes on Erin. “I told him you’d go with him.”

  The whole time Erin was getting ready for the concert, she kept telling herself that she’d done her best to talk Amy out of the idea. Yet deep in her heart, she knew she was glad she was going, and that she was more excited about it than anything she’d done in ages.

  “You look super,” Amy told her as Erin put the finishing touches on her makeup.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m jealous,” Amy admitted in a small voice.

  “Now, just a minute. This whole thing was your idea.”

  Amy scuffed her foot on the carpet in Erin’s bedroom. “I know. But it still matters that you’re going instead of me.”

  Erin kept applying mascara, forcing herself not to catch Amy’s eye in the mirror. She was afraid that if she did, Amy would see the truth there. “It’s too late to change plans.”

  “I know.” Amy sidled her another look. “I didn’t expect you to look so pretty either.”

  Erin stopped the mascara wand in midair and turned from her vanity table. “Why, Amy? I’ve worn this outfit a hundred times before.”

  “Maybe so, but somehow tonight you look different … better … sort of glowing.”

  Erin felt her cheeks redden. “Dont be silly. I’m excited about the concert, that’s all. How’s the paper coming?”

  Amy grimaced. “Fine, if you like researching the Crimean War. Too bad it’s not out on video. I could watch it on the VCR and then write about it.”

  “Oh, Ames, you’re impossible. Maybe when you’re set to storm Broadway, someone will have written a play about it that you can star in. Then won’t you be glad you read all about it?”

  They both laughed. In the distance the doorbell sounded. “That’s Travis,” Amy said, jumping to her feet and rushing to the door. “Let me prepare him for the shock of someone actually ready to go out on time.”

  “Take your time. I won’t hurry.”

  “Thanks, Erin. I really do mean it. I want you both to have a ball.”

  Alone, Erin began to feel guilty. “It’s what Amy wants,” she told her mirror image. “Travis likes Amy, and he’s just taking me because he wants to see the concert.” She was positive of those two things. But she made certain that her wheat-colored hair was perfectly combed and that she used an extra spritz of her best perfume before she left the room.

  The concert music was too loud and the civic center smoky, and by the time Erin and Travis got back to the Bennett’s house, Erin had a splitting headache. They had barely gotten in the door when Amy started firing questions at them. “How was it? Was it loud—I mean really loud? And who else did you see there? Don’t spare any details.”

  Travis gave her a hug and a smile, the first genuine smile Erin had seen on his face that evening. “Awesome,” he told Amy.

  Erin felt slighted. He hadn’t acted as if he’d had an awesome time. Amy pulled him into the living room, where a bowl of fresh popcorn and cans of soda waited on the coffee table. “Sit down and start talking.”

  Erin followed hesitantly, suddenly feeling like an extra with no lines to read. A lump formed in her throat, and she tried to wash it down. She heard Amy and Travis talking, saw their heads close together and their hands touching. Without a word she turned and went to her room.

  Chapter Four

  “You’ve got to get them all out in one breath, or your wish won’t come true,” Mrs. Bennett reminded Amy as she set the birthday cake on the dining-room table.

  “No problem there,” Travis said. “We all know that she’s full of hot air.”

  Erin laughed along with her mother and father as Amy punched his arm. “There’re only sixteen candles,” she said. “This’ll be a cinch.”

  Mr. Bennett flipped off the light switch, and the fire from the candles reflected off Amy’s face. Erin saw how radiant her sister looked. She felt ashamed of how shed acted on the night of the concert, keeping to herself once Travis had gone home and not wanting to talk much about the night.

  “What flavors the cake?” Travis asked.

  “Devils food with white boiled icing,” Mrs. Bennett said. “Its Amy’s favorite.”

  “Devils food? I should have guessed.” Everyone laughed again.

  Amy filled her lungs and puffed out her cheeks. Mr. Bennett snapped a photo just as she blew on the candles, and in seconds all that remained were spirals of smoke. Amy stood and took a bow. “And you doubted I could get them all in one puff.” She held out her hands. “Okay. No one eats until I get my presents.”

  “Not fair,” Mr. Bennett called.

  “Life isn’t fair,” Amy said with a grin.

  “Well, I want my cake, so I’m not holding out,” Travis said, and forked over the box Erin had so carefully wrapped weeks before.

  Erin watched as Amy tore into the paper. So much like Amy, she thought. Erin would have carefully removed the tape from each end and neatly folded the paper back. Amy held up the blue sweater and squealed. “Its gorgeous! I’ve never seen anything so pretty. Thanks a million.”

  Travis offered Erin a questioning glance, but she only shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “Isn’t that just like Amy to act as if it’s the first time she’s laid eyes on it?”

  Her parents gave Amy a generous gift certificate for clothes and a professional makeup kit. “To hold all that clown stuff,” Mrs. Bennett explained.

  “It’s fabulous,” Amy sai
d. “Now I’ll look like a real pro!” She hugged them both, then turned toward Erin. “Well?” she asked.

  “Well what?”

  “Well where’s my present from you?”

  “Moi?” Erin asked flapping her eyelashes. “Didn’t I get you a gift for your last birthday?”

  Amy danced up and down. “Give me my present, or I won’t show up for the recital next Saturday night.”

  Erin rolled her eyes and leaned toward Travis. “A trained seal could read the part.”

  “Could not!” Amy protested.

  “And be on time for the rehearsals.”

  Amy made a face. “I’ll never be late again. Promise.”

  “Never?”

  Amy crossed her heart, then leaned into Travis’s other side. “Its my party, and I’ll lie if I want to.” They all groaned over her pun.

  Erin handed over a shoe-sized box, which Amy shook. “It rattles,” she said, shredding the paper. She lifted out a shiny key chain. A key and a small rectangular box dangled from one end, and a large solid-brass letter A from the other.

  “Let me explain,” Erin said, taking the chain from Amy’s hand. “First, the key is to my car, which I will let you borrow.”

  “You mean you’re going to let me use your car? Thanks, Erin. Thanks a lot.”

  “On very rare occasions,” Erin emphasized.

  Amy turned to her father. “Does this mean I won’t be getting my Porsche this year?”

  “The dealer was back-ordered, so we thought we’d hold off for a while,” he told her with a straight face.

  She swung around to face Erin, who continued. “This,” she pointed to the small box on the chain, “is something that you need in order to keep track of the keys.” Erin crossed to the far side of the room and put the keys on the edge of the buffet. “Now whistle,” she told Amy.

  Her sister obliged, and the box let out a high-pitched whine. “If you ever misplace your keys, Amy—of course we all realize that will never happen.” The others joined in with shouts of, “Never!” and “Not Amy.”