He held my gaze and I noticed for the first time that his eyes were blue. “You don’t even know what the assignment is.”
My eyes narrowed and I felt like punching something. How could he possibly know that? “Okay, Dexter. Why don’t you tell me what it is, then we can divide it up.”
His smirk was cruel and victorious. “I’ll tell you tonight. When we work on it.”
I glanced at the big clock over the exit. I didn’t have time for this bullshit. “I told you I can’t do it tonight.”
“I told you it’s the only night I have.”
“Whatever, Troy. Be a douche. I gotta bounce.”
I grabbed my backpack and shoved my notebook into it on my way out. I took the wide stairs upwards to the exit without looking back.
What was Troy’s problem?
God, what was my problem?
He hadn’t been that out of line, but I was pressed for time. And he was being unreasonably stubborn.
I found Gina waiting for me near the café. We always met here after my English class, only I usually beat her here.
Her eyebrows were lost behind her big bangs and her expression told me she couldn’t believe I would take my time on a day like today.
I shook my head and jogged the remaining few feet.
“What took you so long?” she demanded. “Oh, my god, I can’t even believe you were almost late!”
“Shut up!” I bent over to tug at the top of my knee high black boots and then wiggled my hips to adjust my short black mini. I’d grabbed my black leather jacket from the back of my chair on my escape from English, but hadn’t put it on yet.
October was freezing this year and my black tank top did nothing to protect me from the chill. I shoved my bare arms into the jacket I’d found at a thrift shop over the summer and pulled my long hair over one shoulder.
“How do I look?” I asked Gina.
She licked her thumb and smoothed out one of my eyebrows. “You need lipstick.”
I rolled my eyes because Gina always thought I needed lipstick. Our senses of fashion couldn’t have been more different.
She was a total Betty, more punk rock than anything. Her super straight, bleached blonde hair was the exact opposite of my wild black hair. Lucky for both of us, both shades were natural.
As far as wardrobe went, I stuck to varying degrees of black, and she was all about colors. Her bright green mini and knee high orange socks were practically blinding. Throw in the streaks of pink in her hair and she looked like a flippin’ rainbow.
Gina did know her boots, though. And even I could appreciate the motorcycle blacks she rocked.
She pulled out her cotton candy lipstick but I quickly shook my head. The reason we met in this exact spot on days like today had arrived. I spotted the very top of his head as he pushed through the crowd. “I see him.” She took the cue and we both subtly turned our bodies toward the main flow of traffic.
In a shameless display of desperation, I flipped my hair again and laughed loudly like Gina had just said the funniest thing on the planet.
I felt her side eye of disapproval, but totally ignored her.
He turned the corner and his entire, smokin’ hot body came into view. I stopped laughing. I stopped moving. I stopped thinking completely.
There was nothing in my head except the image of Jake Turner in all his glory.
We made eye contact across the student center and he lifted his chin in recognition. I should have done something in return… a wave or chin bob or something. Instead I stared at him, my teeth sinking into my lower lip.
His chin length hair bounced as he strutted through the crowded area. Kids on all sides jumped out of the way for him. He had this commanding presence that sucked up all the air in a room and filled out the entire stage when he performed.
He was a rock god. Even at nineteen, everyone knew he was the next big deal.
I’d told my parents that I wanted to stay close to home and them. Which was why they didn’t bat an eye when I picked Wharing. But the real reason had been Jake.
We’d grown up next door to each other, but he’d been a year older than me and his friends had always been the cool, under the bleacher crowd. My dad hated his dad and so our families had never really interacted.
I’d spent every summer of high school lying out in the backyard, hoping he’d notice that I wasn’t a kid anymore. We would talk every once in a while, and sometimes at school we’d run into each other and catch up, but I wanted more than that.
I wanted Jake Turner to see me and notice me and make out with me. At the very least.
I had never wanted anyone more than I wanted Jake. Just looking at him made my insides all wobbly and my knees go weak. I liked to think I was too cool to write his name on my notebooks with a heart around it, but even I could admit I’d burned a few tattered pages with Mrs. Cassandra Turner scrawled in black.
It was more than a little pitiful how I swooned over this guy.
But I couldn’t help it! He was Jake Fricking Turner and I just wanted to make out with him. Once. Or twice. Or have his babies.
Whichever came first.
“Stop drooling,” Gina whispered. “You look pathetic when you drool.”
I glared at her, ripping my attention off Jake for just a millisecond. “I’m not drooling.”
She brushed at the corner of her mouth. “You’ve got a little something. Right there…” She reached forward and I swatted her hand away.
“Hey, Cass, you cool?”
I nearly choked in my effort to swallow and remain calm. When I turned to face Jake I hid my surprise behind a chill expression, but I couldn’t help but wipe at the corner of my mouth just in case Gina hadn’t been baggin’ on me.
“Hey, Jake.” I nodded toward Gina. “You know my girl, Gina?”
Jake turned to her and flashed his signature smile. I tried not to start sweating.
“I’ve seen you around,” he told her. “Your boots are bangin’.”
Gina shrugged and knocked her heel on the ground. “I know.”
Jake’s smile kicked up a notch and I wanted to elbow Gina. But his attention didn’t stay with her. He turned back to me and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “You heard about Battle of the Bands?”
I tugged at my skirt and nodded. Suddenly feeling shy, I stared down at my knee highs. My boots were banging, too. “I heard something about it.”
He leaned in and I inhaled his scent, leather and his spicy cologne. Looking up at him, I had to press my lips together to keep from blurting out the truth. Which was that I knew all about Battle of the Bands. That Gina and I had been counting down to tonight for months. That the second we heard Jake and his band, Fresh Suicide, were going to be playing we camped out all night so we could be first in line to buy our tickets.
“Did you hear we’re playing it?” he asked in a low rumble.
I bravely held his gaze. “I might have heard that too.”
Half his mouth kicked up in a cocky grin. “You gonna go?”
“Maybe.”
He started bobbing his head as if he could see right through me. “Yeah, you’re going to go.”
I laughed and it sounded suspiciously like a giggle. I cleared my throat and argued, “I don’t know. Gina and I have a bunch of homework.” I stared at my friend and gave her a look that demanded she agree with me.
“We do,” she piped up loyally. “So much homework.”
He made a face. “Homework’s for noids. Don’t be lame. Come to the show.”
“We’re not lame,” I assured him.
He reached down and grabbed my hand. I nearly started hyperventilating. Jake had never touched me like this. Not once. We’d obviously touched before. I wasn’t a total prude. But not like this!
“Then come,” he pleaded gently. “I’ll get you in backstage after our set.”
I made some kind of squeaky sound in the back of my throat, but words failed. Backstage? Was he kidding? Frickin’ backstage?
>
Since I couldn’t speak, Jake thought he needed more than that to convince me. “We’ll hang out, Cass. I’ll show you around. Introduce you to the guys.”
“And me,” Gina added, giving me a second to recover from my Jake Turner induced heart attack.
Jake shot Gina a look. “Of course. You too. You guys will come, yeah?”
I nodded furiously. “We’ll come. We’ll be there.”
His shoulders relaxed and he rocked back on his heels. “Sick. You girls are the bomb.”
Gina grinned and added a cool, “We know.”
I still couldn’t speak. In my head, I was screaming, We’re the bomb!!!
Jake’s gaze flickered over my shoulder and his smile flattened into a straight line. “Alright, ladies, see you later.”
His hand slid from mine, up my arm to my bicep where he squeezed gently. He leaned in closer so that his lips were just a breath away from my ear. “Don’t forget to find me after my set.”
“Okay,” I whispered, barely recognizing the breathless tone to my voice.
Then he was gone. He slipped into the crowd of students still pushing toward their next class and I was too nervous to turn around and watch him leave.
“God, you turn into such a pile of goo whenever he’s around,” Gina laughed. “I’m embarrassed for you.”
I dropped my face into my hands and felt the heat of my face. “It’s so pathetic.”
“You’re kickass, Carmichael. You can’t let him get to you.”
“Let who get to you?” That came from a deep, familiar voice behind me.
I whirled on Troy. “Are you following me now?”
His eyes narrowed. “No. I go this way to my next class.”
Forgetting about my humiliation over Jake, I cocked my hip and dropped my hand on it. “Then why aren’t you still going?”
“Yikes,” he murmured. “Are you always this uptight?” When I only glared at him, he turned to Gina. “Is she always this uptight?”
I felt Gina’s curious stare but I refused to look at her. “I’m starting to think my friend is afraid of the entire male species.”
My head snapped Gina’s direction and I stuck my tongue out at her. It seemed appropriate.
When I turned back to Troy, he was grinning at me. “I can see that. She’s definitely jumpy around me.”
“Not because I’m scared of you.”
He bent down so we were at eye level for a brief moment. “Or so you’d like me to believe.”
I rolled my eyes so hard my head moved. “What do you want, Cameron? I have things to do.”
“Like the Battle of the Bands?” The humor disappeared from his expression and he glared at me impatiently. “That’s why you can’t work on our project tonight? Lame.”
“Not lame,” I growled. “Totally dyno.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Well, you have time before, right? We can work on it then.”
“No,” I huffed impatiently. “We have to get ready.”
“And get there,” Gina added.
“How long does it take you to get ready?” Troy’s eyes were only on me. “Black, more black, paint your eyes black. Done. Five minutes tops.”
Something burned in the back of my throat and it tasted regretfully like embarrassment. Of course, to someone like Troy, my “look” would be nothing but a bunch of black slapped together. He didn’t get that it was a statement. Or that I happened to like the way I looked. All he saw was a social misfit that didn’t care about anything.
“Go away, Troy. At this point I’m willing to take the zero.”
He ran a frustrated hand through his perfectly Clydesdale hair. “Why are you being so difficult?”
“Personality flaw.” I let out a sigh, remorse niggling in the pit of my stomach. He looked so innocent compared to me. So preppy in contrast to my deadly.
Something flashed in his eyes and it erased the kicked puppy look, replacing it with something altogether different.
Something like determination.
Challenge.
His chin kicked up and he asked, “How are you going to get there?”
“Where?”
He made that growly sound in the back of his throat. “Battle of the Bands.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling uncomfortable. But then I remembered his sob story from class. This kid wasn’t the rich snob I pegged him as. He could relate to public transportation.
Or at least he wouldn’t judge me for it.
“The bus.”
“I have a car. You can ride with me.”
A sarcastic response sat on the tip of my tongue, but his promise of a car held it back. I didn’t mind the bus, but it took forever. And in Troy’s car I could avoid smelling like metal and sweat. “How does that solve our project problem?”
“We can do it on the way. You take notes. I drive. Problem solved.”
I shared a hopeful look with Gina. A car basically trumped everything… all of my irritation, all of my convictions and moral integrity. Yeah, a car was nothing but boss.
“But what will you do when we get there? It’s a long drive.”
He shrugged, looking annoyed with my question. “And how will you get home?”
“We can take the bus.”
“The last bus runs at ten.”
I chewed my bottom lip and looked at Gina again. She bugged her eyes at me. Turning back to Troy, I looked him over again. He muscles were the kind that made me want to reach out and squeeze them- just to make sure they were as solid as I imagined them to be. His skin had been tanned and sculpted by hours outside on the football field. His hair lightened by the same sunlight. He was good looking, fine. I could admit that. In a total wrong-for-me-not-my-type kind of way.
It unnerved me that I found Troy Cameron attractive. On what planet would we ever make sense?
I blinked up at him and met those bright blue eyes. He was already watching me, already anticipating my next move. I hated that he seemed to see straight through me.
That my bullshit didn’t faze him at all.
“What are you going to do, though?” I couldn’t help but challenge him one last time. This felt bigger than an English project and a ride to a concert. This felt like a test… a game I was very close to losing. “The show’s sold out.”
His full lips spread into that same triumphant grin I’d seen earlier today. He’d won. I didn’t know what he won. But it was clear, this was Troy Cameron’s victory smile.
“I can get a ticket. That won’t be a problem.”
Gina snickered. “Of course it won’t, pretty boy.” She slapped his bicep, the same muscle I had been dying to touch just to see if it was real. Or if I was mental. “You know her dorm? Kristman?”
“I know it,” he told me without looking at Gina. “I’ll be out front at five.”
I nodded, gifting him a small smile. “I’ll bring a notebook.”
“And sandwiches,” he added. “We’re going to need some sustenance for the road.”
Gina laughed again and winked at me. “We wouldn’t want our driver to go faint with hunger.”
I let my gaze roam over the solid stone that was Troy Cameron, unable to imagine him faint with anything. But maybe a guy this big needed to eat more often to maintain those muscles.
I shook my head and remembered my plan for tonight: Jake Turner. I’d been waiting my entire life for this chance. I wasn’t going to let Troy and his muscles and promises of cars and free rides interfere.
“Let’s bounce, Cass. It’s going to take us a while to choose which shade of black you’re going to wear.”
Troy didn’t miss the dis. His eyebrows lifted but his eyes stayed playful and on me. “Later, Carmichael.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Just a small one. “Later, Cameron.”
Gina and I split up for an hour. She went back to her dorm to grab her clothes, purse, and wash her face and I needed a few minutes to read through the letter my mom sent.
&nb
sp; Not that Gina knew about the letter. But I told her I had some shit to do before she came over and she didn’t ask any more questions.
I climbed the four flights of stairs to the top of the Kristman women’s dorm and ignored how hard I was breathing by the time I reached my room. It was always like this. I tried to pack everything I needed in my backpack before I left for classes during the day.
But if I ever forgot anything, it was a fricking trek back up these steps to get it.
This time was worth it, though!
Only a few more hours until the bangin’ showdown at Graffiti’s. My stomach flipped with anticipation and my heart hammered unsteadily. This was the night to end all nights!
I could feel it buzzing in my blood and deep in my bones. I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be Jake Turner’s girlfriend. I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t compared every other guy to him.
He had been the one cool thing in my life since I was five years old and tonight he was actually going to be mine.
I pushed the heavy oak door to my room open and flipped on the lights. My reflection in my mirror caught my attention and I realized I was smiling.
I couldn’t remember the last time I looked like this.
My hands fell on my flushed cheeks and I moved over to get a closer look. I’d gotten so pale recently. The days of lying out by the pool had been over since my parents split and now I spent all my free hours trying pointlessly to keep up with classes that I was going to flunk out of anyway.
My hair had darkened, too. The sun-bleached highlights I’d earned over the summer had disappeared and my dark hair was now as black as ink.
Most days I could be confused with a corpse. Like something out of Night of the Living Dead. Not that I minded. The tan, cheerleading bimbette had disappeared. I rather liked the girl that had replaced her.
Remembering the letter from my mom, I watched the color drain from my face. My backpack hit the ground with a slap against the tile floor and I pulled my toe out from underneath, hardly registering the pain.
My fingers moved numbly through my books as I searched for the letter. It was now or never.
I perched on the edge of my bottom bunk and opened the familiar stationary once again.
1988: Need You Tonight Page 2