I replied, It was fine. Thanks for asking.
I then came up with a question and tapped out, What year did the Camaro come out?
Super easy question for him, but the challenge had officially begun.
As I waited for his reply, I finished my sentence about how our club activities were like being in sports or other clubs. They were about supporting each other and building confidence. I then listed wearing our old club shirts to the fall dance as one example.
You’re a bad liar. What’s 1967? And I should’ve known you’d ask me a Chevy question.
I laughed quietly.
He could make me laugh and when I least expected it. A rare thing for me.
That makes us tied, Sunshine. For now.
The crackling inside my body returned. I’d never reacted to any boy like this and oh…shit. I was stupidly crushing hard on an off-limits high school boy.
After school I spotted Warren about to leave out the front doors and caught up with him.
“Here.” I handed over my poll. “Now what?”
We walked over to stand outside the busy school office. There were several kids at Mrs. Oliveri’s desk and some parents. Kids were leaving through the main doors in groups, too.
“Once we get everyone else’s, we’ll have to look at all the responses. And put it all together for Mr. Yates. I told everyone to have them back to me by Thursday. That reminds me,” he added as he stepped out of the way for two kids who looked like freshmen, “Ms. Simmons told me we couldn’t meet on Friday. Because of spring break.” He leaned toward me. “I think she just wants to get out of here right at three.”
“Can you blame her?”
He straightened and sighed. “I suppose not. But all of us are meeting this week. At lunch Thursday. Spread the word. We’ve got to get our song picked and figure out rehearsing.” He stared long and hard at me. “What are we going to do about you, Miss Grounded for Life?”
Good question. And what about Ella and Quinn?
I looked left to avoid his stare. And my eyes landed on Shane and another boy—the same boy who’d been working with him on the scoreboard at community service—walking down the stairs. But Shane wore a deep frown as he talked with his friend.
Before they cleared the last step, Shane glanced over and our eyes collided.
I tried to ignore the crackling—more like Fourth of July scale fireworks—but I couldn’t.
His face softened a bit and he sort’ve smiled, but his unhappiness showed. He didn’t look anything like the joking and relaxed boy from Saturday. Because of another fight with Maddie?
“Hello? What are you—oh, hey guys.”
Warren’s voice made me jump, and I broke my eye contact with Shane. I still saw them give us quick smiles before turning in the direction of the auditorium.
“So what are we going to do about you?” Warren asked again.
I shoved my curiosity and Shane from my mind, and focused on Warren’s question. “I don’t know. I’ll try talking to my grandparents since I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere for the break.” But the guilt from saying that to Warren and not my best friend caught my conscience and I added, “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Just tell them how important this is and we need you.”
They needed me. Ella and Quinn needed me. I kept getting ridiculous crush attacks on Kenickie, and was being sabotaged by a crazy senior at community service.
What kind of mess had I gotten myself into?
Chapter 11
As I headed to the cafeteria for lunch, my phone buzzed and I knew who texted me. I, smiling, stopped steps from the cafeteria’s entrance and pulled out my phone.
Quiz 2, Sunshine. And it’s a good one. What was the first muscle car?
I leaned against the wall. This question seemed too easy. It made me question my answer since he seemed to think he stumped me. But I knew my classic muscle cars.
I tapped out, The 64 Pontiac GTO. Is that the best you can do, Kenickie?
I inched my way toward the entrance before I hit send. He had to be in the cafeteria, and I couldn’t ignore the strong urge to see his reaction when he received my text. I also had to see for myself what was up with him and Maddie, this being the second lunchtime he’d texted me.
I, as casually as possible, peeked around the corner to see into the crowded, noisy cafeteria. I knew he sat on the far right side with...other drama kids. He sat at the table’s end with Drew, Warren’s crush, and two other boys, one being his friend I saw him with yesterday and from community service. I also saw a senior—Bree?—and a couple of girls I didn’t know. But I didn’t see Maddie with them.
I scanned the cafeteria and—I frowned.
She was with Sloane, and her best friend Brandy, several tables away from Shane’s table. Sloane being Mrs. Chaplin’s—the choir teacher and musical director—rotten daughter. I’d never had Mrs. Chaplin, but I hated her and her daughter. They’d tried to get Kassidy kicked out of Romeo and Juliet. But Kassidy won the battle. And Brandy, like Sloane the musical star, walked around this school as if she were a queen, being our star, varsity girl’s volleyball player.
Maddie and Shane had to be more than fighting right now. But them actually breaking up would’ve been all over this school. So weird.
I shook my head and looked back down at my phone.
Playing a silly trivia game. That’s all Shane and I were doing.
I sent the message and quickly glanced up. It took a second, but when my reply hit his phone he instantly put down his sandwich and swiped his phone off of the table.
“Nat, what are you doing?”
I whirled toward Quinn, looking at me like a sane person who’d just realized her best friend might be insane. “I was…” How could I explain this? Because I probably did look insane.
“Are you texting Ella? She’ll be here in a few.”
I shoved my phone back in my sweater pocket.
She walked into the cafeteria, and I followed her. I somehow found the strength not to look in his direction. Especially since I suspected his eyes were on me.
We sat down at our usual table, and my phone buzzed with his answer.
I noticed Warren and Lexi sitting with Kassidy, Meg, Jade and their boyfriends not too far away. I sent them a little wave, which they returned. They were all talking, laughing, and I tried to ignore the pull toward them.
My phone buzzed again, and I jerked my eyes from them and eased it from my pocket while Quinn emptied her lunch bag. I held my phone down and used the table as cover.
Good answer. But the right one is the 49 Oldsmobile Rocket 88.
So it had been a trick question.
I read his second message.
Does that mean I get the point? And stop looking so serious.
I fought a smile as I typed, No. Trick questions aren’t fair. I’m checking your answer. And serious is my thing.
What I texted caused me to glance over at my club members. Still talking and laughing.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Quinn asked.
I dropped my phone in my lap and opened my lunch bag. Chicken Caesar salad with purple grapes. My lunch options were limited since my mother only kept healthy food around.
“What’s with you lately? You seem so distracted.”
I rolled my eyes. One way of showing Quinn I felt fine. Though I didn’t feel fine. At all. “Q, top asking me that. I’m grounded from life, but everything else is the same.”
Not a total lie, but I couldn’t shake the guilt. I still had no idea how to tell her and Ella about being in the competition with the club. And they, and everyone else in this school, could never know about the texting with Shane. My phone then buzzed. Like he could read my mind.
Someone’s a sore loser. And serious doesn’t have to be your thing. Got a question for me?
“Is that Ella? Where the hell is she? I’m going to text her.”
I smiled at his text and ignored Quinn.
I came
up with a question but knew it would be easy for him. If we were going to play this game for a while, and keep score, I needed to sharpen my classic muscle car knowledge.
Thanks, Dr. Kenickie. What does GTO stand for?
I really wanted to ask him about Maddie. But were their problems any of my business? And Quinn might know, but I sure as hell couldn’t ask her without being interrogated.
I took a few bites of my crunchy salad. Then, while Quinn texted Ella, I slowly turned my head right and leaned back to see if I could see him from my seat. I barely saw him and only because he was lounging back in his chair with his phone down like I had mine, and texting me.
“She should be here in a sec. What are you looking at?”
I faced forward and continued eating my salad.
Quinn gave me the same look when she caught me at the entrance. And I couldn’t blame her one bit since I had lost my mind.
His answer hit, and I picked up my phone.
What’s known as Get Tickets Often?
The giggles rippled out of me. Then I remembered Quinn sitting across from me.
She frowned. “Who are you texting? Because I’ve never heard you laugh like that."
Ella suddenly appeared, dropped her lunch bag on the table and sat beside Quinn.
“Sorry. Campaign stuff. And my biggest competition will be our VP, Tyler. But I can beat him. I know the lip sync competition will push me ahead. My dad told me to find his weakness. And a nerd like Tyler will never do something like that.” She laughed.
And something about the sound turned my insides to ice.
Ella opened her lunch bag. “What’d I miss?”
I saw that. You need to laugh more.
Which meant he was watching me, too.
“Natalie has to be texting some guy she hasn’t told us about,” Quinn answered. “You should’ve heard her laugh before you got here.”
Excitement I shouldn’t be feeling replaced the ice from hearing Ella’s laugh right as another text from him popped up.
Real answer. What’s Gran Turismo Omologato? Is that the best you can do, Sunshine?
“What the hell? Who did you meet?” Ella asked.
I had no choice but to end this and deal with my best friends.
I texted, I’m just getting started. I’ll get you in round three.
I closed out of text messaging and sat up. Time to start lying out my ass. “There’s no guy. And when would I have met one? Grounded, remember?”
“Then who made you laugh like that?” Quinn whined.
“Just someone in the club,” I said, remembering how happy they looked.
“Right,” Ella muttered. “I know who’s in that club.”
Irritation with her never-ending bitchiness toward the club, this stupid conversation and my guilt caused me snap, “You don’t know them at all, Ella.”
Her hazel eyes narrowed. Quinn simply stared at me.
My phone buzzed, but I forced myself not to grab it. I couldn’t look away from them.
Ella’s mouth eased into a tight smile. “I was joking. Calm down.”
Now she was lying.
“Let’s talk about something else,” Quinn said. “Like the routine? I have some ideas.”
Ella faced Quinn. “Good. I have some, too. We need to get this figured out.”
I had to tell them the truth. But the tension between us stopped the words from coming out. What I needed to say would make things so much worse, and I couldn’t deal with another mess right now.
I sat back in my chair and eyed my phone. I had to know what he’d texted. Hopefully something funny and just for me. Like his earlier text.
I picked up my phone and pressed the home button.
I can’t wait.
Not funny and probably too flirty. But it did make me smile.
Chapter 12
I should’ve been studying for my math midterm, but I had muscle car history on my mind. Shane had been right about the 49 Oldsmobile Rocket 88; the GTO cited as the first muscle car of the 1960s.
The more I racked my brain for a great question, I realized I may not be able to stump him since he’d grown up in that world. But I couldn’t let it stop me from trying. Even if I had to do more research. It’s not like we’d made any real rules with this game.
I heard a knock from my doorway and there stood my mother, still wearing one of her many designer power suits. She always wore them on days she met with her various charities.
To keep her off my back, I’d changed into a pair of new skinny jeans, a long, thin black sweater and kept my hair hanging loose. But I so wanted to pull it up and off my neck.
“Can I talk to you for a few minutes?” she asked.
I nodded, and she walked into my room. She seemed calm. A good sign she hadn’t come in here to start anything. She’d kept her distance since Saturday, which had been fine with me.
She sat on my bed’s edge, something she rarely did, and my muscles tensed. I didn’t trust her “playing nice” side, because underneath it was where her disappointment with me existed.
“I’ve had some time to think the last few days and talk to your dad,” she said. “He told me about the boy you were with and his family. I’m…sorry I rushed to the wrong conclusion about him. I’ve also reconsidered you joining us on the trip to L.A.”
I remained silent, though I did feel surprised, mostly by her apology about Shane. I also never thought my dad would change her mind. I should’ve been happy he did, but on Saturday I’d really felt the strong desire not to go with them. And seventeen wasn’t exactly a big birthday.
“We do always go on a trip for your birthday. We’re leaving Friday afternoon so you don’t miss school. But you’re to look and be on your best behavior since it’s also a work trip.”
Look and be on my best behavior. I wanted to ask her when I’d ever looked or acted badly on one of our trips. Okay, so this one would include my dad’s work. Still, she made me feel like a juvenile delinquent.
I picked up a pillow and hugged it to my chest.
She stood and headed for my doorway.
I sifted through everything going on in my life. The club, the competition, the community service, even—no. He so couldn’t be a part of this decision. For many obvious reasons. But the thought of being imperfect me at my real home in Sausalito with my grandparents and Chloe for a week, far from my mother, became the stronger desire.
“What if I’m okay with not going with you two?”
She faced me. “Natalie.”
My defenses, always simmering below my surface, bubbled over. “If I go with you guys, I’ll miss two Saturdays of community service. That’s eight hours I don’t want to make up at the last minute. Hours are due the first week of May.” All true statements, too.
She eyed me, almost cautiously. “This is really the reason you don’t want to go?”
“Yes.” Totally a lie, but I didn’t feel guilty about it.
She stayed silent a few seconds, watching me, probably looking for signs of deceit, before saying, “Alright. It’s your choice. I’ll talk to your dad when he gets home, and we’ll call your grandparents.” She turned to leave, but stopped. “I appreciate your honesty. And maturity.”
Her version of compliments. Still better than being treated like a junior criminal.
Because she seemed to be in a reasonable mood, and remembering my promise to Warren about getting out of my grounding, I asked, “Will I still be grounded over the break?”
She opened her mouth, and I looked away and waited for the dreaded yes. But it never came. I then peeked at her and my heart accelerated with hope. She seemed to be giving my question serious thought.
“As a way to reward your maturity, and as a birthday present, you’ll no longer be grounded starting Friday after school. Normal curfew rules. We’ll tell your grandparents, too.”
I squeezed my pillow tighter to my chest. If I had a different kind of relationship with my mother, I’d jump off my bed and th
row my arms around her as my thank you.
“But no driving. That still stands.”
I nodded and said, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She gave me a hesitant smile. “That sweater looks nice on you.”
I shrugged my thanks to that compliment since I only dressed like this at “home” for her, and she left without another word. I then grabbed my phone. I had to text…who?
I usually texted Ella and Quinn with news like this. But I really wanted to text Warren and my other club members. Maybe snap a photo of me opening my bedroom window and post it to Snapchat with the caption FREEDOM. They would probably know what it meant. At the same time, I didn’t want Ella and Quinn to know. I still couldn’t deal with the lip sync competition conversation. And did they even have to know? They would be gone all next week. I could always tell them my mother took away my jail sentence after the break.
When I thought about them being gone, relief filled me up. Relief without guilt. It probably made me a terrible friend, but I couldn’t help what I felt.
I opened text messaging and saw his last message at the very top.
I can’t wait.
I opened our thread and scrolled through the messages from yesterday and today. I smiled again at a couple of his replies, but focused on a certain thing he’d said.
Serious doesn’t have to be your thing.
Maybe something inside me was changing.
I had no idea what to call our texting. It seemed way…stronger…than simple friendship. A connection full of sparks that could power the kinds of cars we kept texting about.
Did he feel the same way? He’d been the one who started the game. And what about Maddie? They were clearly having problems, which started before our texting. I didn’t really have anything to feel guilty about. Except flirting back. And liking him and the flirting and the texting too much. But I also knew if they broke up tomorrow, nothing could happen between us. We’d have to stay friends. Because we’d be socially annihilated, more me than him. Ella and Quinn would never understand, and I’d probably be labeled the rich bitch who’d stolen the good drama boy away from the perfect drama girl.
The '68 Camaro Between Kenickie and Me (Pacifica Academy Drama Book 2) Page 8