After work, I head to the gym and get thirty minutes of cardio. After that I head home, where my mother has cooked dinner. Emily sits across from me, the same wary look in her eye from this morning. I pile my plate high with meat and vegetables and everything seems normal, until I see my parents give each other “the look.”
“Dean,” my father says, clearing his voice. “We need to talk.”
I stab a piece of chicken with my fork. “About what?”
“Your grades,” my mom says. “I got a call from the school today. You’re getting behind.”
I swallow and shrug. “I’ll catch up.”
“I spoke to Marissa and after a long conversation, she suggested that you may want to enroll in the online program.”
“You want me to drop out?” I ask, completely surprised. Em watches the whole exchange with interest.
Dad lowers his fork. “You’re getting more and more work on the show, which is definitely going to cut into your academics. Honestly, it’s a choice. One or the other. You can’t do both.”
The thought of leaving school makes me sad. I’ll miss out on all the senior stuff and hanging out with my friends. But then again, I know Lucy is in the online program. Maybe she can help me figure it out.
Maybe it’ll give me another reason to see her.
“Okay,” I say, making a quick decision. It’s honestly not that hard. I’m getting further and further behind on my school work. “I’ll enroll in the program. It probably makes sense.”
Mom reaches over and grabs my hand. “We’re really proud of the progress you’re making with your acting. We just don’t want you to lose out on your diploma.”
“I know. I got it.” I dive back into my dinner and turn to Emily, asking her what she wants for her birthday. I listen as she talks about the new graphic novel, Photobooth Society created by a kid that goes to my school, I saw down at the comic book shop, which leads me to think of Lucy again.
She’s shown me the sacrifices one has to make to go into this business full time, I just didn’t think it would happen so fast. Everything is clicking into place, but I can’t help but feel like I’m missing one piece.
25
Lucy
I rush around the apartment tidying up, putting up all the dirty dishes and wiping down the coffee table. Dean called an hour ago and asked if we could talk.
It’s been two days since the concert and the gossip started about the two of us. I haven’t heard a word from him and I can’t help but think he’s probably upset about the rumors. Our deal had been to give the world a little mystery. There’s zero mystery in those photos. We look like a bonafide couple.
But they weren’t real, right? They were just an act that got caught on camera. I know this, but my heart twists uncomfortably when I think about it. When I think about him.
What if he feels the same way?
What if he doesn’t?
I’m so confused.
That confusion is why I make no effort to dress up and when he knocks on the door, I’m in leggings and a sweatshirt. And even though he’s just in jeans and a hoodie, totally casual, he still looks amazing. That stray curl falls in his eyes and I force my fingers to behave when I think about pushing it back.
“Hey,” I say, “Come in.”
He enters the cottage, looking around. “So this is your place?”
“Yeah, me and Maya.”
“Is she here?”
“No, she’s out with Christian.” I step away from the door. “It’s small. A friend let us rent it from her family. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, a tiny kitchen.”
“I like it.”
“I saw your house, Turner, this is like the size of your garage.”
He grins sheepishly. “Yeah, but I live with my parents. You’ve got your own place. That’s pretty cool.”
It would be, I guess, except how I ended up here. “Do you want some water or something? Ice cream?” I tease.
He makes a face at my attempt to lure him in with sweets. “No thanks, I’m okay.”
I lean against the back of the sofa, arms crossed. Is he waiting for me to say something? To apologize about the photos? He seems to realize he’s the one that asked for this meeting.
He shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket and says, “So I have some news.”
“The kind of news my friends were texting me about for the last two days, or something else?”
“Uh, no. But Emily was up bright and early to show me the articles.” He scratches his neck. “That’s actually not what I came over here to talk about but, again, I am sorry about that.”
I frown, mostly at myself for the sinking feeling in my chest. Was it so bad he has to keep apologizing? “For what? You didn’t do anything.”
“Not being smarter, I guess. Or asking if you were okay with it. This is still all new to me. I didn’t realize people would recognize us and take pictures, much less sell them.”
“It’s okay, Dean. Part of this is me learning to have thicker skin. Days like today are why.” I tilt my head. “If that’s not what you’re here about, then what is?”
“Can we sit?”
“Sure.” We walk around the couch and both sit. I get a strong whiff of his shampoo and my knees wobble. “What’s going on?”
“Well, despite all the drama with the photos, the last two days have been pretty epic. Things are going well at work, the directors seem to like me, and Andrew Xavier told me he liked my workout video.”
My eyes pop wide. Andrew Xavier. I had his poster on my wall when I was ten. “What? He did?”
“Yeah, it’s been pretty cool.” He grins, but then it falters. “But my parents had a talk with me. They found out my grades are slipping and want me to do the online program.”
“Wow. Okay. How do you feel about that?”
“It seems logical.” He scratches his neck. “You do it, right?”
“Yeah. It’s just a few hours in every day. It’s not bad.”
He leans forward. “I figured maybe we could work on our assignments together. We should be in a lot of the same senior-level classes.”
I blink, then frown. “You came over to see if I’d be your study buddy?”
He laughs and there’s a guilty look in his eye. “Well, yeah, I guess so.”
“I’m not the best student.”
“Me either,” he says, running his hands down his thighs, “but maybe, like the rest of this stuff, we can figure it out together.”
“I’d like that,” I tell him.
“Well, I need to run. I’ve got to stop by the comic book shop and get Emily her birthday present. She’s really into this graphic novel created by this guy that goes to my school. Gabe Foster.”
I’ve never heard of him but I have seen the display in the window of the shop. “When’s the party?”
He grimaces. “Tomorrow night.”
“You going?”
He laughs. “Not if I can help it.”
“Well,” I say, without thinking, “I’ll be at work if you want to stop by.” His eyebrow raises in curiosity. What am I doing? “You know, if you’re bored and want some breadless meat.”
He grins. “Maybe I will.”
After he leaves, I try to figure out why I did that. Why I asked him to come to the restaurant. There’s really only one answer.
I want to spend more time with him.
26
Dean
It’s the high-pitched squeal from four thirteen-year-old girls that drive me from the house. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself when I walk into Pie Whole the following night.
It’s late enough that the dinner rush is over and just a few tables of customers remain. Jennifer seats me in a small booth in the back corner, leaving me with a menu.
“I figure you want to sit in Lucy’s section,” she says. “That’s her last table. She’ll be over in a minute.”
I use the time to check out the girl I came to see. She’s dressed in a pair of overalls over a strip
ed T-shirt. The pants are rolled up, revealing her ankles and a pair of low-cut sneakers. Her hair is clipped back with a tiny barrette that glitters under the lights. Her face? Well, it’s perfect as always.
The guy that works here, with the tattoos and beard, he passes her and says something that makes her laugh. It’s in that moment I feel the tickle of jealousy; something I usually only feel at work or playing sports. Never with a girl. I realize that it’s because I’ve never wanted the trappings of a girlfriend. Not until Lucy.
There may be a reason I’ve never wanted to date much. I can take a lot of rejection, but from her? I’m not sure I’d survive.
“You came!” she says approaching the table.
I swallow my emotions. “I did. The first rom-com was starting and it felt like the right time.”
She laughs. Since when was a laugh so amazing?
“You hungry?” she asks.
“Not really.” She looks surprised. “I ate at home. My mom made a lot of food for the party.”
“Well, I’m almost done here anyway.” She plays with the string from her apron. “But I had an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“I thought maybe we could do a drop-in at the party. Tell Emily happy birthday.”
My forehead furrows. “You want to go wish my sister a happy birthday?”
She tucks a long piece of hair behind her ear. “Why not? You said it herself, she invited me. I don’t mind.”
Again, that funny feeling appears in my chest. It’s somewhere between euphoria and a heart attack. “She’d really like that.”
Her lips curve into a smile. “Great! Let me go get my things.”
She hops out of the booth and heads back to the kitchen. A few minutes later she returns, wearing a jacket and carrying a bag.
“You ready?” she asks, eyes eager.
I’m really not sure, but I stand and say yes anyway.
The “party” is in full swing when we arrive. All four girls sprawled on the couch watching a movie where adults play teenagers falling in love.
“Hello?” I call, walking into the kitchen. My mom stands over the counter artfully arranging a cake to my sister’s specifications.
“Dean! Grab me that blue food coloring. Do you think this looks like a photobooth?” She holds up a tattered copy of the book Emily loves so much. “I have no idea why your sister is so obsessed with this stuff…”
“Mom,” I say, getting her actual attention. She looks up and her eyes widen when she sees Lucy. “This is Lucy.”
“Lucy,” she says, eyes darting between us. “Nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand—” She laughs and holds up her sticky hands.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Lucy replies, shifting nervously.
I open the cabinet and pull out the box of food coloring, handing her the blue.
“Did you two come back for cake?” Mom asks, then gives me a look. “Well not you. God forbid you eat something sweet.”
“Right?” Lucy says. “He’s too healthy.”
Mom nods. “He needs to live a little. You’re only young once.”
“Okay,” I say, holding up my hands. “Lucy nicely came over to wish Emily a happy birthday—not get in a discussion of my eating habits.”
“It’s just such a shame,” my mother says, using some kind of create the symbol on the side of the booth. “But, I’m glad he brought you over. I’d love to say we’d heard a lot about you, but this one has always been too private.”
“Mom.” I warn, glancing at Lucy. She seems to be enjoying the entire scene.
“Oh shush,” she says. “Grab those plates and the candles, will you? I’m going to call them in so they can eat it before it falls apart.”
As I walk over to the table and pick up both items, Emily comes running in the room. Her face is covered in a green mask of some kind. “Mom, how long until—”
The following squeal is so loud I think my eardrums crack.
“Lucy Harrington!” Three other masked girls rush into the room. More screams ensue.
I look back at Lucy to see if she needs help but she’s smiling and walking across the room, engulfing Emily in a big hug.
“I heard it’s your birthday and wanted to stop by.” She reaches in her bag and pulls out a small, wrapped package.
“You brought me a present?” Emily asks, eyes darting to me. I grin and shrug. I had no idea.
“I heard you were a fan of the Photobooth Society books. The girl that runs their fansite, Norah? She’s a friend-of-a-friend. She had some swag to share.”
Emily looks like she’s won the lottery.
“Are you guys doing facials?” Lucy asks.
Emily touches her face. “Oh geez. Yes.”
“If you want, I can show you a few tricks to get your skin looking extra soft.”
That suggestion is met by more excitement and they drag her into the living room. I lean against the counter, hearing the squeal of excitement.
“Was this your idea?” Mom asks, obviously impressed.
“Nope,” I admit. “That’s all Lucy.”
My mom washes her hands in the sink and then dries them on a towel. She walks up and touches my chin. “I don’t know everything, Dean Turner, but I know that girl is a keeper. Don’t screw it up.”
I nod, knowing for certain she’s right. Whatever is going on between me and Lucy, I need to make sure I don’t mess it up.
27
Lucy
The four little girls sit in a semi-circle around me. I spent the last hour showing them how to take care of their skin, hair, and nails. One girl holds out a fistful of makeup but I shake my head. “Less is more. I know it seems exciting but trust me, it looks like you’re trying too hard when you over-apply and usually you’re just hiding your natural beauty.”
“But I hate my freckles,” she says.
I touch her nose, where they’re the thickest. “No way. Freckles are a sign of uniqueness. Definitely don’t hide those.”
Dean appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets. I glance up and smile.
He smiles back.
“Em,” he says, “Mom wants you guys to come eat cake.”
The girls hop up, excited about sugar. Emily stops and gives her brother a big hug. My heart aches a little at how sweet they are with one another.
Once they leave the room, I stand and wade through the sleeping bags and pillows to meet him.
“That was pretty impressive,” he says. “I didn’t know you knew how to charm fourteen-year-olds.”
“I lived in a house with twenty girls at one point. Figuring out how to navigate that is a survival skill.”
His eyes hold mine and there’s an energy coursing through him, something just under the surface.
“You want some cake?” he asks.
“No thanks,” I reply. “Not that your mom didn’t do an amazing job. It looks good.”
“I’ll snag you a piece later.”
“She’s a fun kid. I like that her tastes are so versatile. Fashion. Graphic novels. Rom-coms. She’s going to be a force to be reckoned with one day.”
“I guess I need to get used to having so many strong women in my life.” Without warning, he reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, causing a tremor to ripple down my limbs. He seems to realize what he’s just done and shoves his hand back in his pocket. The singing of "Happy Birthday" carries from the other room and he grimaces. “Want to take a walk?”
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
He waves to his mom as we slip out the back door. She mouths, “thank you” to me and I smile in return. Dean leads us down the driveway, then a short street. In the dark, he finds his way to a sandy path that leads down to the beach.
“You really didn’t have to do that, you know,” he says as we come to a clearing in the trees. The Pacific lies ahead. He nudges me toward a bench, really a plank with no back, that overlooks the beach. He sits next to me, his shoulder brushin
g mine.
“I didn’t mind,” I say. “I’ve never had a sibling like that. It was kind of fun.”
“Well, it made her year. I’m going to get brother brownie points for bringing you over.”
The waves crash below us and there’s a current of energy rolling between us. I feel close to Dean in a way I haven’t felt with someone in a long time, but I feel like there are things I’m holding back that I should tell him. I take a deep breath and say, “I feel like I need to confess something to you.”
He turns to face me and I see his expression in the pale moonlight. It only makes his features more intense. His hands run nervously along his thighs. “Okay.”
“The other night at the concert…that was my first kiss.”
He freezes next to me.
“Which is fine. It was a good first kiss. A surprise and obviously by someone I like and trust. I just…” I kick the sand. “It just feels like I should explain why it wasn’t that great or why it seemed so awkward.”
“That was your first kiss?” he asks so quietly I almost miss it over the sound of the waves.
“Yeah. I mean, thank goodness you’re an actor, right, or no one would have bought it.”
He runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back. “If it makes you feel better, my first kiss was on stage during a middle school production of Romeo and Juliet. We’d faked it up until that day. Kind of skipping over the actual moment, but we both knew we’d have to follow through the night of the performance. It was so awkward. My mom was in the audience.”
The whole story is beyond adorable and I can’t help but laugh.
“Actually, that does make me feel a little better.” But he said first, which means there have been more. I know Dean said he doesn’t date, but there’s no way he’s totally inexperienced with girls.
His hand reaches for mine and he threads our fingers together, resting them on the bench. “Is it wrong that I want a do-over?”
“A what?” I ask, not understanding.
Lucy and The Love Pact: Young Adult Fake Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 2) Page 11