by Holly Hood
Dad knocked on my door. “Five minutes, Hope, and then we need to go.”
I sighed, letting out a grunt, around the bobby pins held tightly between my lips. I shoved the bobby pin into one side securing it back, my diamond earring sparkling against the lighting in my room.
“I guess this will do,” I grumbled, getting to my feet. I snatched the yellow flower clip Karsen had left at my house. She always pulled it off so well, I wondered if I could do the same. I took a chance, sliding the clip into the hair behind my ear.
Dad opened the door. “You look beautiful, Hope. Should I change?” He stared down at his khaki shorts and dark blue bowling shirt.
I shrugged. Charlie Sheen pulled it off, why couldn’t he? “You look dashing, father.” I grinned.
“I could try to find something coral pink to throw on so we could match.” He laughed, tugging at the neck of my tank top. It was the last gift my mom had gave me before we left—a coral pink tank top with black wispy words around the bottom. At one time the shirt made me smile and think of her. But now it was only a shirt that made me a bit bitter when I looked at it. It was still one of my favorites, regardless. Now it just had an added bonus of misery attached to it.
“Shall we get this meeting over with?” Dad asked, extending his arm. I took it, laughing at his silly behavior. He was a bit tipsy. I knew it was his only way to cope with social settings, he didn’t think he had what it took to socialize with woman anymore. Mom had really crushed his ego.
Dad wrapped on Elliot and Easton’s door telling them we were heading out. Elliot cracked the door, the sound of Snoop in the background. “Have fun.”
“Have fun?” I asked Dad, snagging the keys off the counter before he had a chance to object.
“He’s a California teen now, maybe to them that’s cool,” Dad said, patting Crawford’s head as we headed out the door. I pulled the door shut, letting out a sigh.
“I’m really nervous, Dad,” I admitted, feeling like a little kid again. Dad stopped his descent down the stairs. “You’re going to be just fine, Hope. Who wouldn’t like a girl like you?” He squeezed my arm trying to will me to believe him. I nodded, following him down the stairs.
Nona and Claude were on the beach, I thought, looking at the ocean, but as soon as Nona latched eyes on us, she raced over, throwing her fancy shoes to Claude. She looked like she was hailing a New York City cab. Dad and I laughed as she hurried to catch up with us.
“I’m so glad I caught you,” she breathed.
“Hope and I are headed to the school for open house,” Dad told her, trying to cut it short.
Nona clapped her hands in delight. “And I’m on the committee. We will all ride together.”
I looked at Dad in shock. What committee would allow her in a school? Dad gave me a weak smile, following her around the house to the street where their car was parked. I crossed my arms, the feeling of dread pouring over the whole situation now. I was never going to have a chance with Nona in my presence.
The school was only five minutes away from the house. As the car came to a slow crawl into the parking lot, Claude made sure not to scrape the bottom as he gave a little gas to get over the small bump into the entrance.
I stared out my window, my forehead leaning heavily on the glass. The school was brand spankin’ new from the looks of it—nothing like my old school back home. It had a yellow and red brick pattern and big windows on each floor displaying the insides of classrooms and offices. Several smaller buildings similar in style sat off in the distance with signs on them that I couldn’t read from where I was. I figured these were more classrooms. Giant palm trees lined the parking lot, smooth sidewalks trailed up to the short set of stairs.
Nona let Claude open her door. She yanked mine open, sending me spilling out. I caught myself, making it look like I was tending to my flip-flops, not that I had just almost face planted. Nona dusted off my shoulders like I was a stage pony. “I have someone I want to show you off too.”
I groaned, pushing Dad in front of me, hiding from her. She was really making me nervous.
Several kids moseyed up to the school, their parents either in front of them or behind them. There was a steady trickle of kids heading inside. I caught a glimpse of the giant sign that said Ashwilder School of Performing Arts in giant black letters, nothing fancy.
Nona pinched my arm. “This is where your dreams begin.”
I smiled dryly, Claude opened up the door to the fresh smell of new paint and a boat load of lemon scented cleaning products. The school was shiny and smooth, all of it. I guessed the school colors were green and gold right away from the lockers that lined the walls.
I stopped at the picture of the school mascot.
Nona poked her finger at the picture. “Ashwilder Panthers,” she told me, doing a really bad panther impression. She even flapped her hand at me lazily for more effect.
Dad took his time taking in the trophy case right before the gymnasium doors. I headed into the gym, looking around at the yellow bleachers and all the students and faculty. Everyone appeared to either be in a conversation or busy grabbing up brochures and pamphlets for the year’s activities. There were several tables lining the walls with staff awaiting any question anyone had.
Nona grabbed me by the arm, hurrying across the waxed floor of the gym, her high heels clicking magically as she dragged me along.
“I really would prefer to just look around.” I tried pulling away from her but she was not having it.
Nona poked a woman on the back. The lady spun around, her face lighting up at the sight of her. It was hard to tell if she was happy to see her or if Nona just amused her.
“Nice to see you, Julia. I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, eyeing me as she held tight to Nona’s hand. Nona kissed her cheek, pulling me in to their greeting. I forced a smile.
“This has to be Hope. You’re right, she’s a beauty,” the woman said. “I’m Lana Steadmore, parent and faculty here.” She extended a hand.
I stared at her red nails. “And I’m Hope. This is my dad.”
Dad moved into view, giving a faint wave. Lana dropped my hand the instant she laid eyes on Dad. This made me smirk.
She pushed past me. “Lana Steadmore, parent and faculty. And you are?”
Dad rubbed at the back of his neck, really uncomfortable. Lana was abrasive and nearly gyrating on Dad’s leg. “Neil… Neil Zigler…. Uh, parent and very bad at social situations. I’m sorry.” He backed off. This didn’t stop Lana.
“Are you sure you’re her father? You’re so young. And so handsome. Tell me you’re single, darling.” She rubbed her hands over Dad’s chest, her nails like claws.
I imagined her attacking Dad and tearing his shirt to shreds in seconds. Now I knew what a cougar was, I thought to myself.
Several other women slowly gravitated to us, all of them eager to check out the new man in town. I couldn’t contain my smiles as Dad was picked apart like a carcass on the beach by seagulls.
“He is Hope’s father and my son. Now back off ladies, there will be plenty of time to get his number. Did I mention he is single and ready to mingle?” Nona tossed in, like she was selling a piece of real estate.
One lady in the group stayed subtle, a warm smile on her face. She watched Dad try to fight the beasts with a sympathetic look on her face.
Once the swarm cleared, she approached. “Hi, I’m Lynette Sinclair.”
I gave a smile and my hand. She was so pretty. “Hope Zigler.”
“You’re the new girl, right?” she asked.
Nona joined the conversation. “She came all the way here from Georgia. Hope, this is Mrs. Sinclair, the ballet teacher. And not only the ballet teacher, but also the vocal coach and parent of whom I would like you to meet,” Nona explained. I shot her a confused look. This was a set up if I ever saw one.
“I promise you won’t regret this,” Lynette whispered in my ear to reassure me. “You’ll be fine.”
My hear
t slowed, finally returning to regular beats.
I caught sight of Lydia and Campbell walking into the gym. Campbell jumped up and down, waving me over. Nona warned me to stay put. I shot her a pathetic smile. She gave me a wave, going up to one of the information booth with her parents.
“Hope, Mrs. Sinclair’s son attends Ashwilder. And we would like to introduce the two of you,” Nona said, steering me in another direction. I searched the group of guys. “The handsome one in the blue polo.”
I contained my shock. She wasn’t kidding when she said he was handsome. He was a good three inches taller than the other guys standing around him, his body fit and trim with long arms and well-proportioned legs. It was obvious when you looked at him that his shirt housed a fit body, maybe a swimmer’s body.
Lynette gained his attention by waving her hands above her head. He stopped his buddies from chatting him up and raised an eyebrow, jerking his head in our direction, his eyes landing on me as he surveyed the situation before deciding to approach as if he was trying to make up his mind whether he should come over or not.
“I swear he has manners,” Lynette reassured me, waiting for him to obey and come over to us. I laughed at her spastic hand commands. “Tucker, I swear you better get your butt over here now.”
My ears perked up at the name. How fitting.
Tucker sauntered over, a big grin chasing away his serious expression. He threw an arm around his mom, her head barely making it to the top of his shoulder. He pushed up the sleeve of his plaid dress shirt, the sleeves of which were loosely rolled to the elbow. His jeans held that worn, tattered impression, but really they were brand new and very expensive—the kind you paid the company to purposely rip and tear holes into.
I moved back up to his shaggy hair, enjoying how it fell right before his eyebrows. He had the kind of hair that, with just a small shrug of the head, would move into place, or a simple brush of his fingertips it would return to its precise location.
“Tucker, this is Hope,” Lynette told him, pointing at me.
Tucker’s eyes were dark brown like chocolate candies with a stunning pair of thick eyelashes that snared your mind and had you begging for more of his soft, calming gaze.
“Hope,” he mouthed, taking my hand in his. He gave a crooked grin. His lips were a faint shade of pink, a subtle contrast against his fair skin, a flush of color that gained your attention and drew you to his mouth time and time again. I liked how full his lips were, his bottom lip winning, proving to be just a tad fuller than his top lip was. And this made him that much more handsome.
He ran a hand across his chiseled chin, a small dimple barely visible beneath the five o clock shadow. And as he smiled, he showcased a beautiful set of pearly whites, the teeth most kids only could wish they had with years of braces. I wondered if he had braces, or if they were natural.
Nona slapped my back as if I was choking. “Say something to Tucker, Hope,” she coached.
I blinked, coming back to reality. “Nice to meet you.” I robotically shook his hand, staring into his welcoming eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Hope,” Tucker said back.
Nona and Tucker’s mom watched closely at our meeting. I forced myself to act at least half normal. But it was proving hard with such a stunning boy in front of me. There was never anything like him in all the years I lived in Georgia. Some boys were cute, but Tucker was way beyond cute.
I felt warm suddenly.
Dad cleared his throat, cutting into the moment. “Tucker, it’s nice to meet you. I swear most days Hope here is a chatter box.”
Tucker nodded his head, finally releasing my hand. He watched me make a fool of myself as I backed away. Nona’s gaze stayed glued to me, the corners of her red lips were pulled up into a mischievous grin. She was happy with my awkward behavior.
“Tucker, why don’t you tell Hope a little about yourself,” Nona pressed.
Tucker gave a nod. “I don’t like to brag. I’d much rather hear about your granddaughter instead.”
Dad let out a shocked laugh at how polite this kid was. Dad wasn’t used to polite. Everyone we knew was practically family and used to being around us.
Nona pushed me forward, bringing her hands up as if saying unite. “Why don’t we let Tucker give Hope a tour of Ashwilder while us parents do what we do best.” Everyone stared at Nona for an answer to what that was. Nona let out a long annoyed sigh. “Drink and smoke cigarettes, of course. Now, I’m not sure about the drinks, but I have a purse filled with cigarettes.”
Tucker smiled, amused with Nona’s antics. He swept his hand forward, allowing me to go first. “After you.”
I gave Dad a wave, leaving him to fend off the single moms. Lynette shot me another smile and thumbs up.
“Well, if this isn’t a set up I don’t know what is,” Tucker said, walking super slow toward the gymnasium doors.
One of Tuckers friends called out to him, ending our walk.
He stopped. “Give me, like, two minutes. Brandon and I were in the middle of something. I promise I’ll be right back.” I gave a nod, and he headed off.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Campbell grabbed my arm, pulling me over to one of the tables. “Do you know who that is?”
I scanned her eyes for a clue. “That’s Lynette’s son, Tucker Sinclair.” Well, that was who they were saying he was. Besides that, I had no clue who he was. I just knew he was breathtakingly gorgeous.
Campbell nodded her head, agreeing. Then Lydia shoved Campbell out of the way, her face coming a little too close to mine. “Tucker is the epitome of a player. And he was born with a silver spoon so far shoved down his throat he shits jewelry. His mom may be divorced, but she married into money and she got a huge settlement.”
Campbell shook her head, clearly irritated with Lydia. As was I. I ignored her words, looking at Campbell for a more sensible bit of information.
Campbell looked over her shoulder making sure Tucker wasn’t returning. He busily chatted it up with Brandon. “Tuck has a thing for the ladies, that part is correct. He’s been known to break a few too many hearts,” Campbell explained.
Lydia snatched her by the arm as Tucker fast approached. I gave a quick smile, trying to act as if nothing was said.
“So you’ve seen the gym. Now let’s see the rest of this place,” he said, heading out into the hallway. Tucker slid a hand over the trophy case. “If you look inside, you will be proud to know many of these have my name on them.”
I stared into the case, not seeing anything close to the name Tucker, and then I thought I possibly spotted one in the back, but it was blocked by others, so I wasn’t sure. I looked back up to a satisfied grin.
“It was a joke.”
I sighed, feeling like an idiot, and followed him down the hallway, my flip-flops suddenly a lot louder than I liked.
“So, tell me why you attend Ashwilder,” I told him. We rounded the corner. Several classrooms were on either side of the walls. I silently counted six in all.
“Choir and piano,” he informed me. “You’re a ballerina and a singer. My mom was filling me in the other night. I got to say, ballerinas are pretty hot.”
I bit my tongue. He was not afraid to say what he thought at all. Too bad I wasn’t so witty or I would have had a great comeback, I thought in agony. “I do more than just ballet. I just like to dance, it doesn’t matter the style.”
“That’s even better. I bet you liked going out to clubs back home, am I right?”
He was wrong. I had never stepped foot inside a club because I was too afraid of using a fake id. Karsen many times tried to convince me to just live a little, but I never would. I debated telling a lie, just saying that I did to seem cool. But then I wondered if it would bite me in the butt later. I settled on a silent smile instead.
“You can tell me, I won’t run back and tell that dad of yours. He’s probably too busy flirting with all the ladies anyway. They all got their eyes on him, you know that right?”
He opened up the door to one of the classrooms. It clearly was science class of some kind, the desks wooden with the usual black tops with microscopes on top of each desk. I came in, looking around at everything, taking my time to take it all in. It was a tour after all.
Tucker hopped up on one of the desks at the back of the class.
“I’m not a wild girl, so don’t get your hopes up. I’m kind of focused on college right now.”
“So maybe we can study some time. College is good.” He nodded.
“Where do you plan on going?” I lifted myself onto the desk across from his.
Tucker licked his lips. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about it. But I tell my mom and pops UCLA all the time. So let’s just say UCLA.” He laughed.
“Obviously the reason Nona was so happy to introduce us. They have you pegged as the studious, hardworking guy.” I laughed to myself. Boy did it seem he had them all fooled.
“I think Nona introduced us because she thought you would think I was cute. So was she right?” He slid down from the desk and took a seat next to me. He stared straight ahead, waiting for me to say something. I didn’t bother; I was too busy being intoxicated by his musky cologne.
“I hear you’re a player, Tucker. Or should I call you Tuck?” I wasn’t going to confess my physical attraction to him so easily. He would have to work for it. Slade was good looking as well, and probably could be just as attractive if not for his rotten attitude, and I wasn’t out shouting his hotness from the rooftops, either.
“You can call me whatever—”
“You like,” I finished for him. I hated to think he was so predictable.
Tucker smiled, running a hand through his hair. “Those girls, they just want something I haven’t been willing to give them. So it’s to be expected they would call me names. I swear I’m a sweetheart. Let me prove it to you?” He extended his hand. I placed mine in it and his fingers closed around them.
“I swear I’m harmless. Don’t believe all the hype. Is it wrong to turn someone down? Because that’s what I did. And now some of them are out for blood.”