by Amity Hope
Francesca was the only person I’d ever told about my late-night obsession.
She obviously didn’t approve.
I couldn’t blame her. If she knew the murals were in honor of Sydney, she’d probably be more understanding. But it hurt too much to talk about, so I’d never explained it, not even to her.
“I mean, the school? It’s one thing to paint an abandoned building that no one is going to notice. It’s another thing entirely to paint the freaking school.” She jammed her fists onto her hips.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I know.”
“What if someone had seen you? Do you know how much trouble—”
Her gaze zeroed in on something past my shoulder. I twisted around to see what had her so bewildered and found myself facing Luke. I couldn’t remember if he was normally in this hallway in the morning.
He grinned at me like we were old pals.
“Hey, Meg. How’s it going?”
I stuffed down a groan and fought the urge to give him the bird.
He continued to smile.
I glared back.
I felt Francesca’s gaze swing between us.
He said, “Did you get home safely last night?”
“I obviously did,” I replied through gritted teeth.
“So I stopped by the office this morning. I had to hand in some paperwork for a class I dropped. Principal Prichard is not a happy man right now. He’s mad, Meg, real mad.” Luke shook his head, attempting to look forlorn.
“Why would Meg care?” Francesca asked in a careful tone.
He looked at me and winked.
“What do you want, Luke?” I grumbled.
He shrugged. “Just wanted to say hi.”
“Hi. Now go.”
“So feisty.” He chuckled as if this had become a joke between us.
“We have to get to class.” Francesca grabbed my arm and tugged me away again.
I glanced back at him and made a face as if to say, What can I do?
His lips twitched in amusement.
“Last night?” Francesca’s fingers dug into me as she towed me through the crowd.
“I ran into him. Last night.”
We skidded to a stop as we reached my locker. She wedged her fists onto her hips again. It was a stance I knew well.
“Ah, hell no,” she said. “He knows?”
I made an apologetic face and nodded.
“He knows?” she whisper-yelled this time.
“Yes.”
“Meg. How did he find out?” Only a few beats passed before she grimaced. “He caught you?”
“Literally red-handed,” I mumbled.
She narrowed her eyes at me and tossed her ebony mane of ringlets over her shoulder. Her silence was a testament to how angry she was.
“It’s fine,” I said emphatically. “I have it under control. He’s not going to tell anyone.”
“You’d better hope not.” She spun on her heel and marched off to her locker without a backward glance.
…
“Okay. So, news flash.” Kylie Jenkins dropped into the seat across from me. “Jaclyn Winters was talking about you in second hour. Bethany Hanson and Meredith Cooper are both in the class with us. Obviously she doesn’t have a clue who I am so I was able to listen in on the whole conversation.”
She looked at Francesca and me, vibrating with excitement.
I poked at the limp salad I’d assembled.
“What did she say?” Francesca momentarily set her cell phone down on the table. Typically she spent all of her lunch hour texting Nate, her boyfriend. He was off at college two hours away, but he came back to Laurel every weekend. During the week they texted, FaceTimed, and chatted on the phone every chance they got.
“She was super pissed because she said she’s heard Luke’s been asking around about Meg.” Kylie turned to me as if I hadn’t just heard her explanation. “Jaclyn wants to know why Luke is asking about you.”
I wilted in my seat.
Kylie stared at me with blatant curiosity, her green eyes silently assessing. She leaned forward on her elbow, waiting for me to say something.
I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea what Luke was up to.
Was he trying to see if I had a criminal past?
Maybe he was looking into me. Maybe he was curious about whether or not this was a one-time thing or if I had a history of unlawful behavior. Would he not keep my secret if he thought I was a repeat offender? I’d never been caught before. He wouldn’t find out anything that way. But that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be able to find my other murals himself. I rubbed my temples.
“So why,” Kylie wondered as she began to peel her orange, “is Luke asking about you?”
“How should I know?” I stabbed a cucumber. This was getting more complicated by the second.
“Well, are you interested in him?” Kylie pressed as Francesca simultaneously chewed her food and mentally scolded me.
“Why would you ask that?” I demanded.
She leaned back in her seat. “Why do you think? It seems like he’s interested in you. I wondered if—”
Francesca interjected, “No, Meg isn’t interested in him.”
“What she said,” I agreed.
“But—”
“No, Kylie,” I interrupted. “I have no interest in Luke Prescott. Nor do I have any interest in facing the wrath of Jaclyn Winters.”
“They broke up.”
“Who? Luke and Jaclyn?” I glanced around at my friends. Francesca nodded. I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“They broke up over summer break. How do you not know that?” Kylie asked.
“I think the question is why would I care?”
Kylie looked stumped. “I don’t know. Maybe because he’s the star pitcher for the Laurel Wildcats? They say he’s so good he could possibly go pro if he wanted to. Or maybe because his dad practically owns this town? Or maybe—”
“Maybe you should drop it,” Francesca ordered.
Kylie frowned. “What’s with you two?”
“Nothing. Just tired,” I said as I tried to smooth things over.
“Things not going well at home?” she asked.
“Are things ever good at home?”
“Good point. So maybe you should let him take your mind off things.” She peeled another wedge from her orange.
“You’re wrong. It’s not like that.”
“Tell him that.”
Reflexively I followed her line of sight. It led to the most coveted table, the one closest to the door. The inhabitants never had to trudge their way through the maze that was the cafeteria. My gaze collided with Luke’s. He grinned at me and had the nerve to wave.
“See what I mean?” Kylie asked.
“I’ll be right back.” I shoved away from the table and swerved my way through the crowded room. The closer I drew to Luke, the bigger—no, cockier—his grin got.
“Well, hello there, Meg Matthews,” he said.
My gaze bounced around the table. His friends had stopped talking and were now eyeing me with curiosity. I forced a smile as I returned my attention to Luke. “We need to talk.”
His chair slid across the gritty linoleum with a squeal. I headed toward the cafeteria doors, staying a few steps ahead of him. I didn’t glance around, but anxiety danced up and down my spine as I imagined every eye in the room drilling into our backs. It was much quieter out in the hallway.
“What’s up?” He leaned against a locker and cocked his head to the side, pale blue eyes sparkling with amusement. He looked harmless in his cozy cream-colored Henley. His deceptively charming dimples sprang to life as a smug smile crept onto his face.
“Stop asking around about me.” I channeled Francesca and armed myself with some attitude. I slammed my fists onto my hips as I glared at him, eye to eye.
“That bothers you?”
“I didn’t say it bothers me. I just don’t like it.”
“Well, you better get u
sed to it.”
“Why is that?”
“Meet me at Maebelle’s Diner after school.”
“Maebelle’s?” It was a small diner on the edge of town. I knew it well. “No.”
“I think you mean yes,” he said calmly. “You did hear this morning’s announcements, right? Mr. Prichard made it perfectly clear he wants the vandal caught.”
My heart rate kicked up several notches. I had heard the morning announcements.
“I even heard rumors,” Luke casually stated, “that the PTA is trying to scrounge up a rather substantial reward.”
Students were loitering at the vending machines. Did he have to talk so loud?
“I’ll be at Maebelle’s. If you don’t show by four o’clock, I’ll be giving Mr. Prichard a visit.”
“Can’t you say whatever it is you’re going to say? Save us both some time?” I fell back against the lockers and stared at the ceiling, the inevitability of the situation settling upon me.
“You owe me.”
“So you’ve said.”
He leaned in close, keeping his voice low. His nearness made my heart stutter. “You’re going to pay me back by being my girlfriend.”
I whipped my head toward him. What the hell? Surely I had heard him wrong. I waited for him to laugh. To tell me he was joking. When he didn’t, I laughed instead.
“Um, no.” I frantically glanced around, grateful our friends were still in the cafeteria. No one out here was paying attention to us. The students at the vending machine were more concerned with their junk food options.
A feeling of dread pooled in my stomach. I hadn’t allowed myself to give much thought to what Luke would expect from me. But this? This was the last thing I would’ve dreamed of.
“Fake girlfriend,” he amended. “It’ll be for show.”
“You are insane.” I started backing away from him on wobbly legs. “There is no way I’m going to live that kind of lie.”
“Why? Because you’re so honorable?” He scoffed. “I caught you vandalizing school property. Don’t take this the wrong way, but to me that says you’re at least a little bit morally pliable.” He winked at me. “Maebelle’s. See you there.”
With that, he pushed off from the locker and sauntered away.
I stared after him. I would not be anyone’s fake girlfriend.
Chapter Three
Luke
Gorgeous was the first word that came to mind when I thought of Meg. Uptight came in at a close second. She strode into Maebelle’s, hips swaying, scowling as if she was angry at the world. More than likely she was just angry with me.
“You’re late. And your malt is melting.” I slid my paperback into my backpack but not before she caught a glimpse of the title.
“The Handmaid’s Tale? Sounds scintillating. Or more like the sort of book a guy who creeps around in the bushes would read.” She smirked down at me, refusing to take a seat.
“Or,” I said, smirking back, “it’s the sort of book one is forced to read for AP English. Given your lack of knowledge on the matter, I’m guessing you aren’t cut out for AP classes.”
Her mouth slammed into a frown, and I felt a stab of guilt. Had I offended her? She didn’t seem like the sort of girl to take offense to much of anything. In fact, she seemed like the sort of girl who could hold her own in just about any situation.
I wasn’t sure what was up with the all black, all the time. But she wore it well. Every inch of her, from her amazing red hair, the creamy shoulder peeking out from her sweater, the tight fit of her leather pants, to the sexy boots on her feet.
“What?” she snapped. She finally flopped into the seat across from me.
I pulled my eyes back up to her face. I hadn’t meant to so blatantly check her out.
“I’m just trying to figure you out. You going for an emo look or something?”
She wrinkled her face at me.
“Ninja?”
She gave me an Are you crazy? look.
“Late-night graffiti artist.”
She huffed, “You are really obnoxious.”
“I’ve got it. Hot biker babe?”
Not even a smile, though she did roll her eyes.
“I guess I’m wondering what’s with all the black.”
“And I’m wondering why you think it’s any of your business,” she said coolly.
I’m not gonna lie. Her refusal to warm up to me kind of dented my ego.
“So, this is a joke, right?” Her brown eyes held no amusement.
“Not a joke.” Unfortunately.
“Why would you need someone to pretend to be your girlfriend? Luke Prescott, spoiled rich kid can’t get a girlfriend for real?” Her tone was harsh.
Luke Prescott, spoiled rich kid. She clearly had no idea how offensive that was. But I wasn’t about to tell her. It wasn’t as if I was a Prescott by choice. Very few people knew how much I hated living under the dark shadow cast by my father. My family’s reputation was severely—and deservedly—tarnished because of him. I couldn’t wait for college. Couldn’t wait to get away from him.
“I don’t want a real girlfriend.”
“What if I don’t like boys?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Seriously?” I hadn’t considered that complication. When I’d asked around about her, I hadn’t been able to come up with much. No one seemed to know a thing about her past relationships. “Doesn’t matter,” I decided. “You just have to pretend to like me.”
“Pretend. Right.”
“So you’ll do it?”
She met my gaze. “Hell. No.” And she began to slide out of the booth.
“You’re lucky you’re not eighteen. A pretty girl like you, I don’t think you’d do well in jail.”
She froze at the edge of her seat. The word “jail” had nailed her in place. Her tough act slipped. I saw real fear in her eyes.
“I’ll be seventeen for a while longer,” she said quietly.
“I’ve heard juvie’s not much better.” The statement sounded harsh, but I couldn’t let this girl slip away. She might think I was just messing with her, but the truth was I needed her. And if she couldn’t deal with the consequences, she shouldn’t have been painting the graffiti in the first place.
“You would seriously turn me in?” She looked at me with such disgust I felt my gut twist into a knot.
“Meg, if you would give me a chance, you’ll see I’m not such a bad guy.” It’s not like I wanted to do this. Not really. Lately, almost everything in my life had me feeling like I was backed into a corner. Meg could be my way out.
“Really? ’Cause if that’s the case, you can prove it to me right now. You could say, ‘Hey, Meg. Remember that thing I saw you doing? Let’s forget I tried to blackmail you and let’s both go on our merry ways.’ Because that,” she said, “would definitely make me believe you’re a nice guy. This blackmailing? Not so much. So can we forget this happened?”
Her pleading tone made me cringe. “I can’t let this go.”
“Not can’t…won’t.”
I leaned across the table, and she pushed back in her seat, as if she couldn’t stand to be any closer to me. “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?” I growled.
She stared at me in disbelief. “I’m sorry. Should I thank you for blackmailing me?”
“You could thank me for not turning you in. Not only would Mr. Prichard like to know, but while I was in his office I heard mention of cooperating with the police.” I took a sip of my malt, giving her time to think it over.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it.”
“Good.” I tamped down a sigh of relief. I didn’t want her to know that this actually meant a lot to me.
“Are you at least going to tell me why?”
I couldn’t blame her for asking. Didn’t mean I had to answer. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business.”
“I’d make a better pretend girlfriend if I knew why I was pretending. Are you tryin
g to make Jaclyn jealous?”
The thought made me cringe. “No. I want the opposite, actually. I broke up with her. She’s having a hard time accepting it.”
Meg motioned for me to go on. I chose my words carefully.
“Her dad works for my dad. Our moms have been friends forever. They’ve practically been grooming us for marriage since we were in diapers,” I explained. “I wouldn’t be surprised if those two have started planning our wedding.”
“That’s kind of disturbing. You’re not even out of high school yet.” She shrugged. “So date someone else. I’m sure you could find someone who is actually interested in you.”
“I don’t want someone who is interested in me. I want you.”
“Why?”
“No one in my circle would dare go out with me right now. Jaclyn would make them miserable. Also, I don’t want to deal with something as time intensive as a real girlfriend. I have too much going on with baseball and school. Plus, I don’t want to lead anyone on. You know?” It was a partial truth, so I didn’t feel too bad.
“So it’s okay for her to make my life hell?”
“She won’t. You know why? Because you don’t care what she thinks. The other girls do. But that’s not really the point of this. What I want is a girl I don’t have to get emotionally involved with.”
“So don’t date anyone.”
It sounded like a rational suggestion. But Meg didn’t know the whole story. And I wasn’t about to tell her.
“As long as Jaclyn thinks I’m single, she won’t let up.”
“Poor baby.”
“Look, she cries to her mommy, who in turn lays it on thick to my mom, who in turn tears me a new one every time I walk into the room. She can’t understand why I won’t get back together with her. Especially since I’m not seeing anyone else.”
The fragment of truth I gave finally looked like it clicked into place. “But if you were seeing someone else, you’d have an excuse. Jaclyn wouldn’t come on so strong. And your mom wouldn’t press you as hard.”
“Exactly.” I waited, clenching my fists at my sides, wondering if the explanation I gave would be enough for her. It would have to be. There was no way I could tell her everything. She would never understand.