Harper High Falcons CHEER, it says, in an arc above the mascot. And below, one word that makes me go absolutely still.
Henning.
There’s only one person at our school with the last name Henning, and I just saw her about twenty minutes ago. Cammie.
Apparently she didn’t go straight back to her mom’s place. She came here. Which makes no sense to me, because I had no idea she and Jordan were even friends. They don’t hang out at school. I would have noticed if they did, because as soon as Mom told me she was dating Kevin Henning, I did some covert recon on his daughter to figure out who I needed to avoid at school to keep the awkwardness and life overlapping to a minimum. Jordan was definitely not on that list. He and his friends hang out with the senior dance team girls, not the junior cheerleaders. And when Cammie’s not with her cheerleader friends, she hangs out with show choir people, not basketball players.
But this is her car. No question about it. And the fact that she’s here after that disaster of a dinner means he’s important to her in some way. Which means he is officially off-limits to me. Rule number seven for surviving my mother’s love life? Don’t get involved with guys who are connected to my mom’s boyfriends or their families. Even if said guys are mega-hot, like Jordan Baugh. I learned that lesson the hard way my freshman year and I have zero plans to go through anything like that again. So I tear my gaze away from Cammie’s car and walk away from Jordan’s house without looking back.
* * *
The next morning I text Hannah from the parking lot asking her to meet me at my locker instead of the commons, where we usually get a table and hang out with Ryan before the first bell rings. She’s already waiting for me by the time I get there, and makes herself comfortable leaning against the locker next to mine while I switch out my books and binders for first period.
“Hey,” she says. “How’d dinner go yesterday?”
Dinner. Right. I forgot that I texted her about my impending “family” dinner yesterday after Mom dropped that bomb on me.
“It was okay.” I slam my locker closed and start off down the hallway in the opposite direction of the commons. “I mean, super freaking awkward, but not, like, worse than I expected, so at least there’s that.”
“Hear, hear,” Hannah says, taking a step after me. But then she frowns. “Wait, where are you going?”
Shit. I was hoping Hannah would go with it and follow me in the direction of my first period class, which just so happens to be in the opposite direction of the commons. The commons I’d like to avoid, since Jordan and Cammie and their respective friends usually hang out there before school too. I take a second to school my features into what I hope is an innocent expression before turning back to face her. “I, uh, figured since I’m running so behind I might as well go put my stuff down now.”
Hannah frowns. “But I haven’t gotten any caffeine yet. And also we still have fifteen minutes before the warning bell.”
“Oh,” I say, shifting from one foot to the other. “Right.”
Hannah narrows her eyes at me in suspicion. “I know what you’re doing.”
“I’m not doing anything!” I blurt, so panicked-sounding that it is basically an admission of guilt.
“Yes you are,” Hannah says, reaching forward and tugging me back in the direction of the commons. “You’re totally trying to avoid seeing Cammie after all the weirdness at dinner last night.”
“I mean, can you blame me?” I ask, wriggling out of her grip. “Besides, you know the rules.”
“I do know them, but you can’t let them keep you from living your life at school. We’ve talked about this.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I mutter, because she’s right. We have talked about this, many times, mostly because Hannah thought my Cammie recon when Mom and Kevin first started dating was a little much. Apparently not, though. Because if I’d been thorough, I would’ve figured out Cammie’s connection to Jordan and known not to talk to him when I saw him Saturday night.
“Great!” Hannah says, clearly choosing to ignore the snark in my tone. “Then let’s go.”
I do a quick scan of the commons when we finally get there, and breathe a sigh of relief when I don’t see Jordan or Cammie anywhere. We find Ryan at a table near the edge of the room, reading a graphic novel and eating a giant bag of Peanut Butter M&M’s. While Hannah fishes quarters out of her pocket and heads to get in line for the vending machines, I plunk myself into the chair opposite him and reach for the chocolate.
“That’s my breakfast,” he says, not bothering to look up from his book.
“There are like twenty servings in this bag,” I say, grabbing a handful and sliding the goods back across the table to him. “I think you’ll be okay without one or two of them.”
He sighs, but I can tell by the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that he’s not really mad. That isn’t surprising though, since Ryan is probably the most laid-back person I know.
“Rough weekend?” he asks, looking up from his book now. Ryan has a huge blended family and all the drama that comes along with one, so a lot of the time he gets how I feel about my home life even better than Hannah does. I haven’t talked to him about it too much, but I know he knows I’ve been dreading the move this weekend.
I shrug. “About what I expected.”
“Yeah,” he says, studying me carefully. “Still sucks though.”
“It does,” I agree, and when he nudges the bag of candy closer to me, I gladly take another handful.
We’re munching on M&M’s and Ryan is telling me about his graphic novel when Hannah comes back from the vending machines.
“You guys,” she says, slapping her granola bar onto the table and sliding into the chair next to me. “I saw Bailey Whittaker in line for my drink and I finally got her to switch with me so Elliot and I can be lab partners this quarter!”
“No shit?” Ryan says, widening his eyes as he looks at her. I’m just as surprised. Hannah’s been trying to persuade Bailey to switch with her since the beginning of the year, when her monster crush on Elliot started.
“What’d you have to do?” I ask, because there’s no way Bailey agreed to this without any incentive.
Hannah fidgets in her seat for a second, and then she sighs. “I had to pay her twenty bucks and take notes for her for the rest of the semester.” Ryan and I both crack up laughing, and she quickly adds, “But it was worth it! He still barely speaks to me but we’ve been making progress. I mean, he does at least use full sentences every time we talk now. So I figure getting to work on lab stuff together will help with the conversation part, right?”
“Oh, definitely,” Ryan says, coughing a little.
“It totally will. And he did agree to come to your house on Halloween,” I add, taking a deep breath and holding it for a second to stop myself from laughing. Elliot is almost painfully shy and Hannah is most definitely not, so watching this whole thing between them unfold has been pretty entertaining. “That’s still happening, right?”
“Duh,” she says, sticking her tongue out at me. Her gaze catches on something over my shoulder, and her expression goes sly. “And speaking of my Halloween party, your hot new neighbor just got here. In case you were still thinking about inviting him.”
I absolutely should not look, but I do it anyway. Sure enough, Jordan is now standing at a table of his friends in the center of the room, grinning at something one of them said. He’s still grinning when he looks my way, and when he catches me watching him, his smile widens. Sucking in a breath, I whip back around in my seat, way too aware of the heat rushing to my face.
“What neighbor?” Ryan asks, looking between us.
“Jordan Baugh,” Hannah says. “He lives in Harper Ridge, apparently. And he is totally checking you out right now, Amber. You should go talk to him.”
I resist the urge to look back at Jordan and shake my head instead. “I’m good. And I’m not gonna invite him to your party, Han. The neighbor thing, it could get we
ird, you know? For the rules.”
Hannah pulls her head back and furrows her brow in confusion. “I’m sorry, what happened between yesterday and today that made you change your mind?”
“I thought about it more,” I say, gathering up my stuff and stacking my books neatly in front of me. “And I decided this is for the best.”
Hannah’s mouth flattens into a line. “That is total bullshit and you know it.”
I sigh, because I can tell she’s not going to let this go. So I glance around to make sure no one else is paying attention to our table and say in a low voice, “Look, I found out he’s friends with Cammie, okay? And you know what that means.”
“What?” she asks, her eyes widening. “How do you know that?”
“Her car was at his house last night after dinner. I went over there to see if he was outside again to ask him about—” I cut myself off, take a deep breath, and start again. “Anyway, she was there. So please let this go, okay?”
“Shit,” Hannah says. She chews on her bottom lip for a second and then adds, “What if—”
But Ryan cuts her off with a shake of his head. “You heard her. Let it go, Han.”
I give him a grateful look. I haven’t been friends with Ryan for as long as I’ve been friends with Hannah, but he knows about my rules as well as she does. Or as well as she should, anyway, since she was there the day I wrote them.
“All right,” Hannah says, sighing. The warning bell rings a second later and she gets to her feet, offering me a hand as she does. “Come on. We’d better get to class.”
five
The next week and a half passes by pretty quickly. The boxes in Kevin’s house slowly disappear as Mom settles her stuff in downstairs, though my room stays basically the same way it looked on move-in day. We suffer through two more “family” dinners with Cammie, each more awkward than the last one. And I take Buffy on long walks through the neighborhood every night, just to get a little bit of space.
The only street I avoid is The Castle’s.
On Halloween I have to stay after school to finish up a lab for my physics class. The halls are totally deserted by the time I’m done working, and my footsteps echo around me as I shoot a quick text to Hannah to tell her I’m on my way to her house. She’s been stress cleaning all week since Elliot is coming over, and I promised her I’d get there early to help with the final touches.
I feel a little silly as I cross the nearly empty parking lot. Sort of like I’m on display. We were allowed to wear costumes today as long as they were appropriate, and to get in the spirit of things for Hannah’s party later I dressed up like Buffy the Vampire Slayer circa season one, when she wears all those sixties-style short dresses and has big, swingy hair. I figured it was fitting because my hair, which is long and dark and wavy, is kind of big and swingy every day. I added leggings underneath my dress because it’s cold and because Mom insisted, but it’s still really short and my shoes are chunky and huge. It’s fun, but not my usual T-shirt and jeans style, and it’s a relief when I make it to my car.
My relief, however, is short-lived, because my car won’t start. It’s been acting finicky lately and will do this sometimes, but usually I can get it going after a few tries. But not today, apparently, because when I turn the key over it makes this awful churning noise like nails on a chalkboard. Then nothing. Great.
After a few tries—and after I hit the steering wheel a few times to vent my frustration—I pull out my phone and call my mom’s cell. It goes straight to voice mail. Figures. I remember her telling me this morning that she had a late bridal cake tasting at the bakery today and would be crazy busy, which is fine. But would it kill her to leave her phone turned on?
I consider trying Ryan or Hannah, but decide against it. Ryan isn’t good with cars, and Hannah’s out since she’s got party setup and Elliot-induced freaking out to do. Which leaves me one other option before I call my mother’s work number: Kevin. I finally put his number in my phone the other day at Mom’s insistence, but I never planned to actually call him. Rule number six for surviving my mother’s love life? Never ask the boyfriend for help, unless it’s a legitimate emergency. I follow that one to a tee, because when Mom was dating Leo in middle school, I used to ask him for help with all kinds of things. School projects, boy advice, rides to and from school and Hannah’s house. He was always happy to do whatever I needed, and he acted like I wasn’t any different from his own kids. Basically, he was nice, and dad-like. Which made it even harder after he was gone.
I stare at Kevin’s number for a second, trying to decide. And then I pass it by, because while this situation sucks, it’s not exactly worth breaking the rules over. Especially not this early in the game.
Right as I’m searching through my contacts to pull up Mom’s work number there’s a knock on my window.
I scream, loud and long and embarrassingly shrill, and fling my phone into the passenger seat. Someone laughs and I look up and there’s Jordan Baugh, in full pirate attire, standing outside my door.
He stops laughing and presses his lips together. I use the crank to roll down the window—no automatic windows in this baby—and say, “Jordan. Hey.”
“Hey,” he says, his voice a little strangled still. “Do you need a ride?”
I sit up straight in an effort to regain my dignity. “Um, hopefully just a jump. My battery has been acting weird lately.”
He nods and thumps the roof of my car. “I can do that. Let’s take a look.”
I pop the hood, then slowly get out of the car, wishing I was wearing my normal clothes instead of this costume. When I’m finally out and upright, Jordan’s gaze follows my hands as I reach down and smooth my dress. Heat rushing to my face, I make myself think of rule number seven.
“Let me get my jumper cables,” I say, taking a step back toward the trunk.
At my words Jordan starts and looks away. “Yeah, go ahead.” He moves toward his Jeep and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Give me a sec to move this and then we’ll get them hooked up.”
Once Jordan’s car is in the space right next to mine, we get everything connected and start his car. After a few minutes of awkwardness while his engine rumbles, I try to start mine. Nothing. Not even the churning noise.
“One more time?” Jordan asks, frowning. I nod, so we try again.
Twenty minutes and two more tries later, still nothing. I’m not surprised, since this car is basically junk on wheels, but I am a little disappointed. Jordan shuts his car off, unhooks the cables, and then shuts his hood and mine. “We could run to Walmart and get another battery.”
I shake my head. “It’s been acting weird for a few months now and the battery’s only a year old, so I don’t think it’s that.”
“Oh,” Jordan says. “Okay. I could call Triple A or something, if you want.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have my mom help me figure it out tomorrow.” I’m sure my car will be fine in the school parking lot overnight, and if it isn’t, well, it isn’t much of a loss.
Jordan nods. “Come on, then. I’ll take you home.”
I hesitate, wondering if I should figure out something else just to avoid being trapped in a car with him. But it’s not like I have any other easy options right now, and I have somewhere I need to be. So I take a deep breath and say, “That would be great. Um, but actually, after we stop at the house, could you take me to Hannah Spencer’s? That’s where I’m supposed to be going. We have a thing tonight.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, his eyebrows going up in surprise. “Sure.”
“Thanks.” I take my jumper cables back from him so that I can toss them back in the trunk. “Let me lock up, and then we can … yeah.”
He nods and fidgets with his keys. “All right.”
* * *
Jordan’s Jeep is clean, but cluttered. Loose change rattles in the cup holders, school and library books are spread out over the backseat, and his backpack is unzipped and overstuffed with papers and notebook
s.
“Sorry,” he says, reaching over to scoop up a stack of CD cases in the passenger seat. As I climb in he puts them into the little compartment built into the driver’s-side door.
“It’s all right.” I smooth my dress down again and tuck my bag between my feet. “You make mix CDs?”
“Yeah,” he says, grinning a little sheepishly. “No aux hookup in here, so this is the closest I can get to playlists when I’m driving. Anything in particular you want to hear?”
I shake my head and reach for my seat belt.
“Okay.” He turns the key in the ignition. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
We stay quiet for the first few minutes, the only sounds in the car coming from the alt-rock mix Jordan has going in the CD player. At the first red light we hit, I look over at him and ask the question that’s been lingering in the back of my head since he offered to drive me home.
“Do you need me to give you directions?”
He flicks his eyes over to me and then quickly focuses them back on the road. “Not to your house. I’ll need them when I take you to Hannah’s though.”
Something tightens in my chest.
“Um, how did you…”
“Know where you live?” he asks, giving me another one of those brief glances as the light turns green and we pull forward again. I nod, and the corner of his mouth tugs up. “Cammie told me.”
“I didn’t think she was really telling anyone,” I say. Cammie is popular enough that people would be gossiping about our new roommate situation if they knew about it. No one at school has said a word to me about it though, so Hannah and I assumed that Cammie wants to keep this quiet just as much as I do.
“She’s not, really,” Jordan confirms. “But we go way back, me and Cam. Our moms have been friends since we were in daycare together. So we don’t really keep secrets.”
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