How did she find out? Didn’t she have anything better to do than sit around and gossip? “Yeah.” He stuffed a slice of pizza in his mouth.
“So, you’re technically free then, right?”
Lane held in a groan. Becky used the word ‘technically’ in every other sentence, even if it didn’t make sense. Too bad that wasn’t the only thing that was annoying about Becky. He wanted to move to another table, but he just forced a smile after he swallowed.
Gabe plopped down in the chair on the other side of Lane. “He’s not free. He’s got his sights on someone else already.” He jabbed his elbow into Lane’s side. “He’s got a hankering for some ice. Right? Ice? Get it?” His laughter filled the room.
Lane ignored Gabe’s taunting. He would get his revenge when Trudy showed up at the dance with him. Gabe was going to have to eat his words and lose his prized golden hair. The thought was enough to make him smile, which Gabe took as a reaction to his words and laughed again.
“You’re already technically dating someone else? Who?” Becky asked, looking around the cafeteria, as if this mystery girl would materialize.
“Ignore him. He’s just flapping his jaw.” Lane took another bite of his pizza.
Becky looked confused, but she plastered on a smile anyway and opened her milk carton. “I can’t wait for the game on Friday night.” She squeezed his arm. “You’re going to be amazing.”
His stomach tightened as he stared at his pizza. He didn’t want to think about the game Friday. It might be the last time he played. It was the beginning of the school year, and already Coach was on his case about his grades, threatening him to pull them up or he’d be benched. And there was a test in calculus class in two days he knew he was going to flunk. Nothing made sense in that class. Not that he was a stellar student in his other classes either, but calculus was particularly hard. He’d be off the team in no time.
Their table filled up with other cheerleaders and football players, and Lane focused on finishing his lunch and trying not to send any encouraging smiles to Becky, which didn’t work because she kept touching him and making him want to move to a different seat. When the bell rang, he quickly gathered up his trash and fled.
As he grabbed his calculus book from his locker, he noticed Trudy passing by. Her black hair was pulled up into a ponytail and it swayed as she walked. On impulse, Lane shut his locker and fell into step beside her. When she didn’t acknowledge him, he said, “Hey.”
She didn’t look at him. Didn’t respond. She just kept walking, which was weird. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything, but she never acted like she was mad at him. He tried again. “What class are you headed to?”
She turned to him, a funny look on her face. “What?”
He gave her one of his sexy smiles that always got a good response from the girls. “Just wondering what class you have next.”
She looked at him like he had green hair. Then she walked into his calculus class and Lane felt like slapping his forehead. Duh. How could he have not known she was in his class? How dumb did he look now? He wanted to forget talking to her today, but he only had two weeks until Homecoming, and he wanted to win this bet. He had to suck it up. He slid into the seat beside her. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t realize we had the same class.”
She gave him a forced smile then pulled out her book and opened it. Nice. She thought he was an idiot. Embarrassment heated his neck, but he couldn’t let his blunder get to him. Besides, it was the beginning of the school year. How was he supposed to know everyone in all his classes? He opened his book as well, then leaned over to her. “What page are we on?”
“Twenty-seven,” she whispered, not even looking at him.
Lane flipped the page. He waited for her to smile or warm up to him somehow, but she just sat there, her back straight, her eyes glued to the front of the classroom. He subtly checked his pits to make sure he didn’t smell bad. Nope. Smelled like deodorant. He tapped his pencil eraser on the page while the teacher started talking.
He looked at Trudy, and when she finally returned his gaze, he shot her another smile. “Want to go to the Homecoming dance with me?”
“No.” She returned her attention to the teacher, Mrs. Foster.
Ouch. Shot down. That never happened to him. He put on a pouty face. “Why not?”
“I don’t dance.”
“I can teach you. It’s easy.”
“Shh.” Trudy glared at him. “I’m trying to listen.”
“Then tell me really why you won’t,” he whispered. “Then I’ll leave you alone.”
“Because I don’t want to.” She wrote something down on her notebook paper.
Lane wondered if maybe he should be paying attention too. But everything the teacher said sounded like mush to him. Like the teacher on the old Snoopy cartoons. He didn’t understand a word.
He suddenly felt restless. Why was Trudy being so difficult? He was a good-looking guy. He was popular. Kids liked him. He never teased her, like Gabe.
Ah, Gabe. Maybe she was angry about the whole Prudy thing. He leaned closer to her. “Hey, sorry about Gabe. He’s not that bad, once you get to know him.”
She ignored him.
“Seriously, you should—”
“Shut up!” Trudy gave him a death stare.
Mrs. Foster walked over to them. “If you two don’t mind, I’m trying to teach my class.”
Trudy’s face turned bright red. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Foster.”
Lane nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”
After the teacher was back at the front of the class, Lane tried again. “I’m not a jerk. I promise.”
Trudy gave him an incredulous look. “Why are you still talking to me? I said I didn’t want to go out with you. Can’t you take no for an answer?”
She kind of looked cute when she was mad. He smiled at her. “Nope.”
“All right,” Mrs. Foster said from the front of the class. “You two can continue your conversation on your way to the principal’s office.” She pointed to the door.
Trudy blanched. “But he was talking to me. I wasn’t talking to him.”
“Save it for the principal. I honestly don’t care. I just want you two out. Now.” She scribbled something on a slip of paper and extended her hand out. “Give this to Mr. Brown.”
Guilt made its way into Lane’s throat as he stood and gathered his things. “Sorry,” he whispered. Trudy looked mortified as she hugged her books to her and brushed past him. He grabbed the note from the teacher then hurried out of the classroom to keep up with her.
“I didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”
She rounded on him, her mouth pinched into a tight line. “If my grade goes down because of this…” Her cheeks reddened, and her words fell away.
“Hey, I said I was sorry.” Lane didn’t know what else to say, so he shrugged and fell into step beside her.
“I can’t believe this,” she muttered under her breath. “What else could go wrong today?”
“Bad day?”
He expected her to yell at him, but instead she just nodded and tugged on her sleeves. More guilt rose in him. He hadn’t meant to get her into trouble. He didn’t know what was up with her, but she now looked like she was about to cry, which would be horribly awkward.
Desperate to keep her from melting down, he said, “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll tell the principal it was all my fault.”
The glare came back. “It was all your fault.” She pushed past him and into the office. He followed her in.
Miss Diaz, the secretary, turned around in her chair. She wore a white sweater over her blouse every day of the year. Only the top button was ever buttoned. She smiled. “What can I do for you?”
Trudy motioned for him to speak. Lane took a step forward. “Mrs. Foster wanted us to talk to the principal.”
“Go on down to his office. He should be in there.”
Apprehension arose in Lane as they entered Principal Brown’s office. It wasn’t like he
made a habit out of getting into trouble. But he could usually get himself out of situations like this, so he plastered on a smile and sat down when Mr. Brown motioned to the two chairs. “Hello, Lane. Trudy. How are you two doing this afternoon?”
Trudy sat, her books still hugged to her chest, her gaze on her lap. Lane could feel her embarrassment rolling off her. He swallowed. “We’re fine, Mr. Brown.”
“How’s the team? Does it look like we’ll beat Northwest this Friday?” The principal gave him a warm smile.
“It’s looking good. I think we stand a chance at beating them, sir.”
“Good. I’d like to see that.” He turned his attention to Trudy. “And how are you doing?”
She seemed to struggle with her words. “Fine,” she finally mumbled, looking away.
Mr. Brown took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “So, what happened?”
“It was my fault, sir,” Lane said quickly. “I was talking to Trudy in calculus and Mrs. Foster got mad. I shouldn’t have been talking.”
Mr. Brown studied Trudy. “Is this true, Miss Ward?”
Trudy nodded. “Yes.”
“What was he talking to you about?”
Trudy looked like she wanted to crawl under her chair. Before Lane could think, he said, “I was asking her to the Homecoming dance.”
Mr. Brown’s eyebrows rose high on his head. “Really?”
“But she shot me down.” Lane pretended to take an arrow through the chest. “It hurt, Mr. Brown.”
Lane could tell that Mr. B was trying not to smile. “I see.”
Trudy squirmed in her chair. “I’m sorry. I won’t interrupt a lesson again. Can I go back to Mrs. Foster’s class now?”
Mr. Brown nodded. “In a minute, Trudy. I’d like to ask Lane a couple of questions first.”
Trudy sighed but stayed in her chair. Mr. Brown turned back to Lane. “How are you doing in calculus? I heard you’re struggling. Coach is worried you’ll get kicked off the team.”
Great. Mr. Brown’s been talking to coach? Just what he wanted. To look stupid in front of the smartest girl in the school. Heat rose to his face and his palms grew sweaty. He wiped his hands on his jeans. He opened his mouth to tell Mr. Brown it would all be fine, but instead, the words stuck in his throat. Finally, all he could choke out was, “It’s hard.”
Sympathy filled the principal’s eyes. “Math was difficult for me, too, when I was your age.”
Relief poured over Lane. Mr. Brown didn’t look like he was going to make fun of him. And Trudy wasn’t laughing. “Really?”
“Yes. I really struggled. But do you know what helped?”
“Dropping the class?” He could hope, right?
Mr. Brown chuckled. “No. I got a tutor.” He looked at Trudy. “What do you say? Would you be willing to tutor Mr. Collins here? Help him raise his grade so we can continue to beat the other teams?”
Trudy’s eyes widened and she looked like someone had just asked her to swallow a live worm. “Uh…”
Lane wanted to sink into the floor. Not only did Trudy find out he was stupid and couldn’t do math, but now she was put on the spot to help him and she didn’t want to. He felt like the biggest loser. And the longer Trudy paused, the more he wanted to die.
“I can add that to my recommendation for Harvard. It would look good on your application.” Mr. Brown gave her one of his looks. You know, the kind that tells you he’s asking, but he’s not really asking. You’re being voluntold to do it.
Trudy shifted in her chair. “All right.”
Mr. Brown smiled like he’d solved world hunger and put the tips of his fingers together. “Great. Now go back to class. I expect there won’t be any more disruptions.”
“There won’t,” Trudy mumbled as she stood up and practically ran out of there.
“Thanks, Mr. B,” Lane said.
The principal winked at him, and Lane inwardly moaned. Was this some sick kind of setup thing? Like he needed help from Mr. Brown to land a date. How pathetic was that? If Trudy didn’t hate him before, she certainly was going to now, being forced to tutor the dumb guy who couldn’t figure this stuff out. But what was he going to do about it? He did need to pull up his grade.
Lane got into the hallway and rushed to catch up to Trudy. Maybe this would be an okay arrangement. If he could get on her good side, he could convince her to go to the dance with him.
Trudy turned to him, her face full of emotion, but he couldn’t quite read it. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m tutoring you so I can get into Harvard. Period. That’s all. I’m not going out with you. Ever. Got it?”
Lane stepped back, surprised by her venom. What in the heck was wrong with her? She seriously needed to chill. He held his hands up in a surrender motion. “Okay, fine. Just tutoring. Nothing else.”
And suddenly Gabe’s taunting face filled his mind as he imagined himself having to wear a cheerleading outfit to school. He’d get kicked off the team for sure.
Chapter 3
Trudy watched the color drain from Lane’s face as he backed away from her. Yeah, maybe she’d laid it on a little too thick. She was even starting to scare herself. She smoothed out her features when she realized she was sending him a glare that could melt plastic. Maybe she needed to take a break. Go calm down or something. But she didn’t want to miss any more of her class, so she forced herself to give him a curt nod. “All right then. When is a good day to start this?”
Lane took a cautious step toward her. “Today? After practice?”
Of course, he would say today. All she wanted to do was go home and bury herself under her covers and have a good cry. Alone. But it looked like she wasn’t going to get her wish. She let out a breath and crossed her arms. “Okay. What time?”
“I can be at your house at six.”
“You know where I live?”
He shook his head like she’d just accused him of being a creeper. “No. You’ll have to give me your address.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, then handed it to her. “Program your number in here. That way, I can text when I’m done.”
Fine. Mr. Brown wins. Trudy tried not to throw up a little in her mouth as she typed her name into his phone. This was great. Now the idiot who wanted to fake ask her out just to play some stupid practical joke on her and make her feel terrible was going to have her phone number. Perfect.
Lane took his phone back when she was done. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
The bell rang and students began pouring out of classrooms. Nice. She’d missed the entire class. Now she had to play catchup with today’s lesson, as well as doing the homework. Today was turning out to suck harder than a Bissell.
Trudy was numb for the remainder of her classes. She went through the motions, but nothing seemed to get past the bubble that formed around her. She knew the feeling. It had plagued her for weeks before the incident. The one she didn’t want to acknowledge.
She pulled out her notebook and created another list, but it didn’t help the numbness go away. She was in real trouble. If she couldn’t get herself out of this…well, she didn’t want to think about what might happen.
When the final bell rang, Trudy rushed to get out of the building. When she stepped outside, the sunshine and fresh air helped. She headed toward her car.
The drive home didn’t take long. She only lived half a mile from the school. As she entered her front door, her gray tabby cat came scrambling to see her.
“Jasper. How have you been, boy?” Trudy tossed her book bag on the floor and knelt so she could scratch behind Jasper’s ears. He purred loudly and got up on his one hind leg, putting his front paws on her.
She’d gotten Jasper five years ago, before her sister got sick. Before their family fell apart. Her mother had taken her to the animal shelter, and Jasper was the one cat who came right up to her. He’d been hit by a car when he was young and lost his right hind leg, but she hadn’t cared. She’d fallen in love with him immediately.
“I bet you’re hungry.”
As if in answer to her, Jasper meowed and started toward the kitchen. She smiled, knowing he was the one in charge. He had trained her well. She followed him and opened the cupboard where the cans of cat food were stored. “Do you want chicken or tuna today?”
The cat let out a long meow.
“Right. Chicken.”
She smiled as her cat pranced around, too excited to stay still as she opened the can and scooped it out into the bowl. Jasper nosed his way in and attacked the meal.
“There you go.” Trudy watched him eat for a minute before she stood and dusted off her jeans. Her sister’s face popped into her head, but she couldn’t allow herself to break down right now. Not when Lane was going to call her. She shoved the thoughts out of her head and walked back into the living room where she plopped down on the couch with her backpack.
As she read her assignments, exhaustion took over and she found it hard to keep her eyes open. Before she knew it, her phone was chiming, waking her up from a groggy sleep. She sat up and scrambled for her phone.
Hey, I’m ready to come over. Where do you live?
She texted him back her address. See you soon.
Trudy rubbed her eyes and glanced around the room. The light had shifted with the setting sun. How long was football practice? It seemed to take hours. She glanced at the clock. It was six-thirty. She went into her bathroom and pulled out her ponytail, running a brush through her hair. Then she popped in a piece of gum in case she had sleep-breath.
The doorbell rang a second later. Jasper raced to the door. He loved to try to get out when the front door was opened. She picked him up. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not getting out again.”
She held him in one arm and opened the door. Lane gave her a nod and hoisted his backpack over his shoulder. “Hey.”
“What took you so long?”
He shrugged, one hand clutching his backpack strap. “Practice, then I had to shower and stuff.”
A Young Adult Romance Collection Page 2