St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 2

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St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 2 Page 2

by Seven Steps


  He’d been the hottest guy at St. Mary’s Academy for three years straight. All the girls, including me, had gone wild over his blonde hair, his baby blue eyes, and his football player physique.

  And then, one day, he disappeared from school and no one had seen him since… until this very second.

  What was he doing here? And was it possible that he’d gotten even hotter?

  I had to remind myself to close my mouth or, as my Southern born debutante mother would say, flies would get in it.

  Caleb squinted. “Is that Josh Summers?”

  “Of course, it’s Joshua Summers,” Mya said. She sounded like she was within a wonderful dream. Probably one where her and Josh made out surrounded by rose petals and naked Cupids with heart-shaped arrows in their bows. “I’d recognize that hottie anywhere.”

  Caleb ignored the comment. “I heard his dad sent him away to Russia or something. What’s he doing here?”

  “Sent him away?” Mya asked. “I thought he just graduated.”

  Caleb frowned. “You thought he graduated in the middle of junior year?”

  Mya blinked at him as if he’d suddenly started speaking a different language, but she didn’t respond.

  I stepped forward. “Does it matter what happened to him? He’s here. Let’s just look at him and be happy with that.”

  Where were a lawn chair and a pair of binoculars when you needed them?

  “Maybe he’s seen the dog,” Caleb said. “We should ask him.”

  My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “No! You can’t ask. What if he sees us?”

  He shrugged. “Um… that's the point.”

  “But you can't. I'm… I’m not decent.”

  Suddenly, everything was wrong. My hair was a mess, my skin was too oily, my eyes were too close together, my floral shirt was too old ladyish and my pink pants were too pink. Well, maybe not. After all, there was no such thing as too much pink.

  “But what if he’s seen the dog?” Caleb said.

  “Poppy should be the one to ask him,” Mya said, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

  Butterflies flapped their dainty wings in my stomach.

  “Why me?”

  Mya smiled. This time, it was a mischievous smile. I'd seen it before when we were about to play a joke on a teacher or when we hid Caleb’s favorite Hawaiian shirt.

  “It's your dog,” Mya said. “Plus, you two had a love connection.”

  She was referring to the one time I’d actually spoken to Josh Summers. My friend, Meg, had dropped her camera and Josh caught it. I’d boldly taken the opportunity to show him how it worked. A few weeks later, he’d disappeared.

  “Mya’s right,” Caleb chimed in. “You should ask him if he’s seen Janice. If he’s been here for more than half an hour he might have seen her run by.”

  “But, but…” I searched for the perfect reason why this was a horrible idea. “But, he’s so perfect and I’m so sweaty.”

  That's me. Always thinking.

  Caleb took my arm and began dragging me toward the table Josh was standing behind. “He won’t care about that stuff,” he said. “Just ask him if he’s seen a little white dog.”

  “Then, ask him if he’s single,” Mya added, wiggling her eyebrows.

  I was out of options and outvoted by the two people whom I thought were my friends.

  We drew closer to Josh and my heart pumped so hard it made my chest hurt. Drowning in panic, I said the first thing I could think of:

  “But my hair isn’t combed!”

  Mya, the traitor, grabbed my other arm, helping Caleb pull my reluctant body along. “Just go,” she said. “If we don’t find Janice soon, I’ll miss my four o’clock nap, and you know what happens when I miss my four o’clock nap?”

  “You get cranky?”

  “Exactly. Now go.”

  There were a million reasons why I couldn't talk to Josh Summers.

  First off, I've barely spoken five sentences to him since Freshman year. Second, he was way out of my league. Third, and most importantly, I was too terrified to ask him anything anyway.

  But my friends would hear none of it.

  Like I said.

  Traitors.

  My heart raced, and my armpits felt gross and sweaty. My hands shook, and my nerves frayed then broke completely.

  Josh was dressed in a leather jacket, dark blue scrubs, and black sneakers. But, even in the odd outfit, he looked heavenly. Well, at least the back of him looked heavenly.

  What was I doing? I couldn't do this. One does not just talk to Josh Summers!

  I struggled against my friends hold, but their grip was tight. And then, it wasn't. When I got within a yard of Josh, they let me go and ran backwards and out of sight.

  Freed, I planning to hide behind the nearest tree when Caleb – the father of all traitors – yelled out from behind a large bush.

  “Josh Summers!”

  Josh’s neck flexed, and he turned around at the sound of his name.

  Our eyes met.

  I froze, awestruck by the blue of his iris’, his perfectly tanned skin, the sharp lines of his spiked hair, and how much taller he was than me. I was tall for a sixteen-year-old – nearly five foot seven, but Josh was hovering around six feet. He made me feel dainty. Girly.

  I bit my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot,

  Josh pointed at me. “Poppy Pritchett.”

  Joshua Summers knew my name?

  I could faint!

  I'd always thought that my name sounded kind of dumb and too hippy but coming from Josh’s perfect lips it didn’t sound so bad.

  “Hi Josh,” I said softly.

  A giggle rose in my throat and I strangled it. I would not embarrass myself by giggling.

  “Its good to see you, again,” he said.

  The giggle escaped this time. And, worse, my shoddy bun chose that exact moment to fall, sending waves of dark hair around my shoulders.

  My cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

  “You too,” I managed.

  A throat cleared, and Josh looked over my left shoulder.

  “Caleb,” he said. “Mya. Hi.”

  I heard more giggling from behind me. It was Mya. Well, at least I wasn’t the only one who’d melted into a weak-kneed mess in front of this Adonis.

  Josh’s eyes landed back on me. They widened a bit. I'd never had a boy’s full attention before. To stand here while Josh stared at me, waiting for me to speak, was too much. My cheeks flamed, and I wiped my sweaty palms on my shirt.

  “We were just wondering if you’d seen a dog,” I said.

  Josh’s chin went up and down, and he smiled at me.

  Such a beautiful smile.

  “You’ll have to be more specific. I see a lot of dogs around here.”

  “It was a little white dog with a tutu,” I said, suddenly very embarrassed that I'd dressed the diva dog in a ballerina outfit this morning. What must Josh think of me? Grinning like an idiot and sweating like some big, dumb animal. He must think I’m the Queens of the Freaks!

  “Yeah, I saw her not too long ago.”

  Relief rose to the top of my tangled emotions.

  “You did?”

  Josh nodded. “Yeah, I did. Not too many dogs wear tutus. I can help you find her if you want.”

  This was too much. First, he knew my name. Then he said my name. Now he was offering to help me find my dog? How did this day get so perfect?

  Oh no! What if I said something wrong? What if he finds out that I sweat, or that I bit my nails? And how much longer will we have to be in this awful, scary park?

  My gut twisted and my mouth opened and closed as if I were a fish gasping for hair.

  Talk Poppy. Say something!

  But I couldn’t. I was absolutely blissful and terrified at the same time.

  Please, God, open up the ground and swallow me. He must think that I’m a total geek.

  “That would be great,” Caleb chimed in, putting both hands on my shoulders.r />
  Good old Caleb to the rescue.

  “Cool,” Josh said. He turned back to the table, seemed to remember something, and turned back to me. “Oh, I forgot. I’m supposed to be watching this table, and I really need to sell some stuff before I shut it down.”

  “I’ll buy it,” I quickly said, stepping forward.

  I didn’t know what I was about to buy, but if Josh was selling it I was sure going to buy it.

  His face lit up, like the face of an angel.

  “Really?”

  I nodded, feeling very much like a bobblehead.

  Get it together, Poppy. He's just a boy. Yes, a very handsome boy, but still just a boy. Don’t let him see you sweat. Literally.

  I shook my head to clear it.

  “What are you selling?” I asked.

  “Pocketbooks.”

  He reached over and snatched a purse off of the table. It was purple with a yellow handle. A gold square beneath the handle said Prada.

  I was almost certain that it was a fake.

  Why would Josh Summers be selling a fake Prada bag?

  Well, if Josh was selling it, there had to be a good reason, right? Plus, the quicker I brought it, the quicker we could start finding Janice. And the quicker I could get out of this park.

  “I’ll take it,” I said.

  He grinned, and I nearly fell into the depths of his blue eyes again.

  Keep it together, Poppy.

  “Great,” he said. “It’s 20 bucks.”

  I pulled out my wallet and handed him a twenty dollar bill.

  “Thanks! I’ll put the purse aside and you can take it once we find the dog.”

  “Cool.” I gave him a thumbs up, then recoiled in horror at my up turner finger.

  When did I start giving thumbs up? He must think that I’m such a loser.

  Josh carefully placed the bag in plastic, then packed up everything else. Further down the road, a white, windowless van was parked between two trees.

  Was that Josh’s van?

  “Let me just get this stuff to the van,” he said over his shoulder.

  “I’ll help,” Caleb said, moving past me to help Josh tote the purses and table, to the van.

  “You’re doing great, Pop!” Mya gave me the proud smile of a mother whose child had just been named valedictorian. “He’s totally digging you.”

  I groaned.

  “No. I’m sweaty and weird. He must think that I'm a total spaz.”

  “Spaz or not you are doing great.”

  “I feel so awkward.”

  “You hide it well.”

  I’d been around boys before, but none of them gave me butterflies in my stomach or made my palms sweat like Joshua Summers. Was it his beautiful eyes or his dazzling smile? Or perhaps it was the fact that he was a dream and I didn’t really know anything about him. Maybe he had bad breath. Maybe he was dull-witted and too serious. Would he live up to my dreams about him, or would being in close quarters pop the bubble I'd placed him in, leaving me with only smoke and air.

  I was determined to find out.

  “Here, they come,” Mya said. “Loosen up and quick. Those days of pink leashes and picking up dog crap are finally paying off.”

  I elbowed Mya in the arm as hard as I could and turned just in time to see Josh smiling at me again with Caleb by his side.

  “All packed,” he said.

  I moved a little closer and tried to smell his breath. It didn’t smell like a dragon. Or maybe I was just a bit too far away?

  “All right then. I saw her go this way.”

  Josh pointed towards the northeast corner of Central Park.

  My stomach tightened at the thought of going deeper into this park that I’d associated with muggings and murders. I’d avoided this place for so long, and now conquering it was the only way to get my life back on track.

  I had to face my fear. And find my dog.

  Fortunately for me, my two besties, and the boy of my dreams were by my side.

  I took Mya and Caleb’s hands and lead the way.

  3

  We’d been searching for an hour straight with no sign of Janice.

  How could one little dog get so far so fast?

  Maybe Mya was right. Maybe she was half way to Jersey by now.

  Worse, every time a bush shook or a twig broke, I nearly jumped out of my skin. My eyes darted around, watching every face that passed, wondering if that would be the person who would hurt us. This place was scary, even in broad daylight.

  Why did Janice have to run in here? Why couldn’t it have been Times Square or Bryant Park. Why’d it have to be in the one place that I feared above all the others?

  Mya and Caleb picked up their pace as they walked through the paved paths, leaving Josh and I further behind.

  My heartbeat picked up. Being alone with Josh already made me nervous. Being along with him in the place where I equated crime made every nerve stand on edge.

  “So, how long have you had your dog?” Joshua asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “She’s been with my family for seven years now. She’s less like a pet and more like a bratty kid sister that I have to walk, pick up after, and dress in tutu’s.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Yeah. She’s mostly my mom’s dog.” I pushed away the bitterness that came with talking about Janice and mom’s relationship. “The daughter she never had, I guess.”

  Sometimes, especially when I was in trouble, I got a distinct impression that my mother loved Janice more than me. Mom would brush Janice’s hair and the spoiled pup would sigh contently and fall asleep on her lap. I couldn’t remember the last time mom brushed my hair. It made me sad to think about, and if I were being honest with myself, a little angry. Yes, dad and I were very close, but sometimes a girl needed a mother too.

  I swallowed the lump that had started to form in my throat.

  “But you’re her daughter, not the dog. She had to like you better. After all, you’re not the one she buys flea collars for.”

  A nervous smile crossed my face. “Yeah, but when the dog gets in trouble, you can say that she’s just being a dog. When I get in trouble, saying it’s just Poppy being Poppy doesn’t have quite the same effect.”

  “You’re talking about the fight, aren’t you?”

  I stopped walking, my hands like limp noodles by my side.

  “You remember that?” I asked.

  “It was pretty epic. Highly respectable.”

  A small breath floated between my lips. The fact that he had remembered something about my life sent happy little shivers up my arms. Maybe I wasn’t as invisible as I'd thought.

  “I’m still paying for that fight,” I said. “My parents think it means I'm not responsible.”

  “Did you tell them why you were fighting?”

  I shook my head. No, I couldn’t tell them. They’d think even less of me than they already did.

  “Why not?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Fighting over a boy just seems stupid. With mom being a perfect Southern debutant and dad being this super, mega-author, I figured they wouldn’t understand.”

  “You were fighting over a boy? I thought you were fighting about a boy.”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “Yes, Pops. A big difference.”

  I tried to ignore the way that he had just used my nickname so effortlessly. As if we'd been friends for years instead of him being the dreamee and me the dreamer.

  “I don’t condone violence,” he said, his eyes warm and friendly. “But there is a certain honor in fighting to protect your friends. I find it highly respectable.”

  His smile was filled with pride, and small goosebumps setup an entire ecosystem along my shoulders.

  Joshua Summers found me highly respectable. Imagine that. An hour ago I didn’t know that he knew I existed. Now, here he was saying that he was proud of me for standing up for my friend.

  At the beginning of sophomore year, Christina Lopez an
d several of her friends picked on Caleb every day. They would follow him to school and home, chanting that he was hiding the fact that he was half Cuban. They yelled things in Spanish and said terrible things about his mother.

  Caleb never responded. In typical Caleb fashion he took it all in stride.

  However, I'd had enough.

  I cornered Christina in gym class and told her to stop teasing Caleb or else. Christina took a swing at me, and I took a swing back. Neither punch connected and the gym teacher, Mrs. Anderson, quickly broke us up. But the fight was now on my school record. And my parents never forgot it.

  “You’re a good girl,” he said. “Your parents don’t know how lucky they are to have a daughter like you.”

  My heart beat a bit faster, though I didn’t know why. I clasped my hands together in back of me.

  “And what about you?” I asked. “Are you a good boy?”

  Joshua lifted his eyes to the heavens as if asking God for the answer to the question.

  I didn’t breathe as I waited for God to answer him.

  Finally, his eyes found mines again. The blue reminded me of the spring sky. I swore I saw birds flying in their depths.

  “I’m trying to be,” he said. “I’m trying really hard.”

  I sucked in a breath, my starved lungs thanking me. His caring smile drew me to him. I felt like I could tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge me or call me a child. He would listen. Really listen.

  To my surprise, he took a step forward and I stopped breathing again. Why were my lungs so rebellious when he was near?

  His eyes stayed on mine, searching my thoughts. Finding my secrets. The back of my neck turned tingly as if he had just touched me there. A whisper of wind swept through the park, shaking the trees and throwing my long, dark hair across my face. He reached out and tucked a stray piece behind my ear.

  Did I just die? I think I just died.

  Little zaps of energy buzzed along my arms, my neck, my shoulders, my back. Odd feelings I'd never felt before. Feelings that made me anxious and confused and happy. It felt like I was in a dream. A dream that I never wanted to end.

  I’d almost forgotten that Caleb and Mya were here. Then I heard Caleb’s voice from up ahead.

  “Save the kissy face for later, please. We found a clue.” He raised a piece of pink tulle high in the air.

 

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