Curveball (Barlow Sisters Book 1)

by Jordan Ford

  “Everyone’s redeemable.” Chloe nods with conviction.

  I can’t help smiling. She really does believe that there’s good in every person on this planet. In her eyes, even the nasty people can be saved. I wish she was right.

  Worry for her steals my appetite and I set my fork down, reaching for my water bottle instead.

  I don’t want my sweet sister getting hurt. Her heart is too big for her own good.

  My eyes dart to the other side of the cafeteria and I spot Holden. He flinches and jerks in his seat, turning the other way.

  Was he looking at me?

  I frown and get up from the table without finishing. “I gotta go.”

  “Already?” Chloe’s surprised. “You’ve barely eaten.”

  “I’m not that hungry. And we’ve got this Computer Sciences test tomorrow. I want to be prepared.”

  “Well, make sure you eat something before practice this afternoon.”

  I give her a droll look. “Thanks, Mom.”

  She giggles. “It’s not for your sake, it’s for mine. You turn into a grumpy witch when you’re hungry. Seriously, it’s not pretty.”

  Her wink makes me instantly forgive her. Gently swatting the back of her head, I walk away from the table and get out of the cafeteria.

  The empty hallway is a nice reprieve from the chaotic chatter. I’m still wondering where Max is. Maybe she’s fitting in extra study during lunch. Dad’s got her on a pretty tight schedule with extra fitness and baseball training. If she wants to make a college team, she’s going to have to work harder than anyone else on the team. She skipped out on the gym this morning though, which left Chloe to do hers alone. She didn’t mind. Most of the guys work out in the mornings…including Holden.

  Which is why I’ve changed up my routine and am now running home from school as my fitness training. There are only so many lunges and butt flexes I can handle. The guy works hard, which I kind of like.

  Except I don’t.

  Because I don’t like him!

  “Argh!” I look to the ceiling and stamp my foot, annoyed with myself more than anything. I thought my brain was stronger than this.

  Walking aimlessly down the corridors, I finally end up slumping to a stop against a row of lockers. Students are starting to filter out of the cafeteria. The bell will be ringing soon and we’ll head into our afternoon classes before baseball practice.

  Ugh. So not looking forward to that.

  Holden is such a good pitcher, it’s super hard not to admire him.

  With a huff, I cross my arms and look up in time to see a guy with jet-black hair and dark eyes stalking towards me.

  Vincent Mancini.

  I haven’t had any interactions with him yet.

  He’s a junior and not in any of my classes. Chloe says he’s in her geography and biology classes. He sits in the back and doesn’t say a thing…when he actually shows up.

  The guy is walking straight towards me and I can’t help stiffening just a little.

  His clunky biker boots stop right in front of my white Converse and he drills me with a look that makes me shrink just a little.

  Dammit, don’t shrink back!

  I refuse to be afraid of anyone.

  Standing up a little straighter, I look him in the eye and quietly ask, “Can I help you with something?”

  “You’re standing in front of my locker.” His voice is low and soft, but there’s a hard edge to it.

  “Oh.” I smile and move aside.

  He glares at me, reaching forward to unlock the door. For some reason I stand there gazing at him, maybe trying to work out what’s going on in that head of his. What makes a Mancini so bad? So he’s shoplifted before, but has he done drugs? Does he deal drugs like Roman? Do they work together? Is he desperate like—?

  “What are you staring at?” His eyes are so dark, they’re practically black.

  I shake my head. “Nothing.” Then I stick out my hand. “I’m Maddie.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” he mumbles, ignoring my hand and yanking open his locker.

  “Right. So, we haven’t met yet, but you must be—”

  He cuts me off, turning to stare me down. “Get lost.”

  I swallow and croak, “Yeah. Okay, so not the politest guy in the school.”

  With a harsh snicker, he gets into my space and whispers, “You want me to get suspended?”

  “For what?” I frown.

  “Giving the new girl a black eye.”

  My eyes bulge and this surprised kind of laugh pops out of my mouth. “Whoa, okay, well it was nice meeting you too, Vincent. Have a good life.”

  He scoffs like that’s an impossibility and I walk away before he can threaten me again.

  And I thought Holden was an asshole.

  Turns out this school is full of them.

  16

  A Point to Prove

  HOLDEN

  Maddie storms away from Vincent Mancini and the knot in my stomach instantly unfurls.

  When I turned the corner and saw him towering over her like that, I wanted to sprint forward and smash my fist into his mouth.

  But she walked away before I could get to them.

  It’s probably a good thing.

  Fighting with any Mancini is a bad idea. I’m guessing that family looks after their own, and retribution would be an ugly bitch coming from them.

  Dad tells me to never trust a Mancini, and I can’t imagine I ever will.

  Vincent slams his locker and spins. Our eyes connect for a brief second and I narrow my gaze at him. His eyebrows dip together in a look of warning before he stalks off in the opposite direction.

  I refuse to be intimidated by the guy, no matter what his last name is.

  My mind skitters to Maddie and her expression when Vincent got up in her space like that. I’ve seen the guy make people yelp and scatter.

  But not Maddie.

  She stood her ground, said something in that strong way of hers, and then walked off.

  I can’t imagine that girl being afraid of anyone.

  It intrigues me.

  In spite of the fact that I think she’s bossy and opinionated, I want to get to know her. I must be a sucker for punishment.

  The bell rings right above my head and I wince, stepping away from the loud blast.

  I’m just turning to head for Stats when Chloe stops me. Her smile is bright and almost dreamy.

  Shit, I wish she wouldn’t look at me like that.

  “Hey, Chloe.” I smile at her, keeping up the charade.

  “Hey.” She tucks her hair behind her ear, looking nervous and kind of adorable. “So, I don’t want you to be late to class, but I just wanted to quickly ask what you’re wearing to the homecoming dance. I thought it’d be fun if we matched, just a little. You know, like my dress could be the same color as your tie or something.”

  “Oh.” My eyebrows rise while my insides shrivel.

  I should tell her now that I don’t want to be seen as some kind of couple at this dance. Let her down easy.

  But the look on her face right now…and just before she heads off to class…

  I can’t do it.

  “Um…” Scratching the back of my neck, I blow out some air between my lips and shrug. “I’m happy to wear whatever, so why don’t you choose your dress and then just tell me what color it is.”

  “Okay.” She bobs her head, letting out a breathy giggle. “I’ll, um…I’ll let you know.”

  “Yeah, cool.” I force a smile and throw in a wink for good measure.

  She blushes, her blue-green eyes bright with excitement.

  “Well, I don’t want you to be late to class.” I point down the hallway.

  “Yeah, of course. You too.” She starts walking backward, giving me another crushed-up smile before twirling and racing down the corridor.

  As far as Barlow sisters go, she’s the girly one.

  She’s the one I thought I’d be into.

  But she’s not.r />
  Nope. Stupid me can’t stop thinking about the sharp-tongued sister. The one who has no problem putting me in my place.

  Why the hell does someone so annoying entice me so much?

  “Because she’s different than all the other girls,” I murmur.

  I can’t win her over with my usual charm and charisma. She sees straight through it.

  The only way to get to her is to show her the truth.

  My stomach bunches with the idea.

  It’s stupid.

  Why should I care what some new girl thinks? Why should I even like her?

  Chloe Barlow is basically in the bag. We’re going to homecoming together. She could be my girlfriend in a heartbeat.

  But I don’t want a girlfriend.

  At least I don’t think I do.

  As I step into Stats, I immediately find Maddie in the front row. I can tell she’s seen me out of the corner of her eye because she tenses, a tendon in her neck straining as she refuses to look my way.

  Blinking, I walk to the back of the class, slumping into the seat beside Luke.

  “Hey, man,” he murmurs. “Where the hell have you been?”

  I open my mouth to tell him, but decide not to. He’ll hassle the hell out of me if Chloe and I go matching to homecoming. Why the hell did I go along with it?

  Because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings?

  Because I hate the idea of someone thinking less of me?

  Gritting my teeth, I stare at the front of class as Mr. Hope starts talking. I usually like Stats. My brain’s good with numbers and the work is pretty easy. It’s nice to be able to help Luke, even though I think the poor guy will never wrap his brain around this stuff. I sometimes wonder if he just chose Stats because I was doing it. Like basically everyone at this school, he looks up to me.

  But not everyone.

  Not Maddie Barlow.

  And that’s why I’m tormented.

  That’s it.

  She thinks I’m a dick, and I can’t stand that.

  There’s only one thing to do.

  I’ve got to show her.

  I’ve got to prove to her that there’s more to Holden Carter than meets the eye. That’s the only way I’m going to win her over.

  And I need to win her over.

  Because I am not spending the rest of my senior year being thought of as an asshole.

  All I need to do now is figure out how to make my case without letting the rest of the school in on my business.

  17

  It Has to be About Chloe

  MADDIE

  Holden keeps looking at me like he wants to talk to me.

  But then he doesn’t.

  It’s bizarre, and annoying.

  I really need to find a time to remind him that he shouldn’t be taking Chloe to the dance, but it’s hard. I can’t do it in public, and I don’t trust myself to do it in private either. Another heated discussion between us is the last thing we need.

  The only reason for pulling him into Mr. Johnson’s classroom last week was to set him straight on the Chloe issue, but at this stage, she still thinks she’s going to homecoming with him.

  Does he not get it?

  Every time he smiles or talks to her, she falls just a little bit more in love.

  He has to stop!

  I need him to stop.

  I ignore the niggle that maybe I have more than one reason for wanting Holden to stop flirting with my sister.

  Don’t go there! I snap my eyes shut, warning the thought away before it can develop.

  I’m simply being the protective older sister. That’s it!

  I squirm in my chair, hating that it’s not. I don’t want to like that pig. That gorgeous, blue-eyed, beautiful pig. Fighting with him on the mound, then facing off with him in Mr. Johnson’s room, was heart-thrilling. Which it totally shouldn’t be because feeling that way around him is insane.

  You know what, it’s good that he can’t talk to me.

  I don’t want to be around the guy anyway.

  I want Patrick back.

  Picking up my pen with a thick swallow, I frown at the lack of emotion pulsing through me when I think about my ex-boyfriend with his calm gray eyes and perfectly styled hair. He likes to look good, but not in the way Holden does. Patrick is a perfectionist; therefore everything he does needs to be neat and orderly. He never puts on a show or cares what other people think about him. I like that.

  It may not be heart-thrilling but at least it’s honest.

  Chewing the inside of my cheek, I try to focus on my study notes. It’s really hard when Holden’s face keeps floating through my mind, teasing and annoying me. He’s probably in the gym right now, working out with my sister. A sharp image of his cut body doing push-ups makes my insides bubble with desire.

  Stop it!

  Rubbing my forehead, I try to work the stress from my mind.

  Just focus on this novel analysis!

  Focus!

  “Come on, brain,” I mutter. “Sharpen up already.”

  I lean forward over the book we’re supposed to be dissecting for English and nearly jump out of my skin when a novel smacks down on the table in front of me.

  After a little yelp, I quickly compose myself, my eyes narrowing as I glance up at Holden and then back down at the book.

  What is he doing here? My heart starts thrumming before I can stop it.

  Reaching for the book, I distract myself by murmuring the title. “Catch Me If You Can?” I flip through the pages.

  “My favorite book.” He takes a seat beside me.

  It’s too much of an effort to hide my smile, so I let it show. “O-kay.”

  With a sharp huff, he leans his elbows on the table. “Frank Abagnale was—”

  “A criminal.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “He was an intelligent guy who knew how to play a role in order to survive.”

  I lean back in my chair and study him. What’s he trying to tell me right now?

  Running a hand through his hair, he looks around us to make sure no one’s listening. No one is. We’re the only ones in here because people at this school seem to be allergic to the library.

  Well, for study purposes anyway.

  Resting his elbows on the table, he pins me with the most serious look I’ve ever seen. “You think you know me, but you don’t. I’m not some cardboard cutout.”

  Wow, okay. What I said obviously got to him. Is he sitting here trying to tell me that he’s got some deep and meaningful side?

  I hold the spine of the book and run my thumb along the pages. “So how is anyone supposed to know that? I bet your friends don’t know what your favorite book is.”

  He snatches it out of my hands and slaps it onto the table. A muscle in his jaw works overtime as he wrestles with something I’m curious to understand.

  “I like biographies, okay? True stories about people who have overcome the odds. The power of the human spirit. It inspires me. Truth is, I love to read.”

  My eyebrows pop high with surprise.

  “See…” He points at me. “That look on your face. That’s why I don’t tell people about this side of myself. They don’t understand it, because it’s not fun or cool to be into books and serious shit.”

  Leaning forward, I rest my chin on my hand. “Okay, so you have a serious side. A side that likes reading and being inspired. Why don’t you show that part of yourself to anyone?”

  “I just told you.”

  I tip my head and give him a skeptical smile. “Come on, you’re one of the most popular guys in this place. You could start a reading trend if you wanted to. You could wear striped pants and a polka dot shirt to school and I guarantee within a day people would be copying you.”

  He scoffs and shakes his head. “You might think that, but it’s not true.” He closes his eyes with a heavy sigh. “There are expectations. People see me as Holden Carter, the son of the mayor, the cool guy who wins games for the Pitbulls, the good-looking guy wh
o makes the girls swoon. My friends look up to me, people at this school want to be me, because they like the image I present to them. They want it that way.”

  My eyes narrow. “Not everybody.”

  “Exactly.” He points at me. “You don’t. You think I’m an idiot, and I can’t stand it.”

  It’s impossible to hide my surprise. “Why should you care what I think about you?”

  “I don’t…know. I don’t know.” He winces and looks down at the table.

  “Yes, you do.” I stare at him until his eyes flick back up to mine. “You wouldn’t be sitting here sharing this with me if it wasn’t for a good reason. So figure it out. Why does my opinion matter?”

  His face crumples with a look of confused agony before he softly mutters, “That look on your face when you called me out on my bullshit…it ruined me. I’m used to people adoring me and telling me I’m amazing. But you…you just tore me to shreds.”

  I swallow, my gaze darting away from his. I can’t help a touch of guilt for some reason. Maybe I was a little harsh, but I can’t bring myself to apologize. What I said was true…wasn’t it?

  Licking my lips, I softly respond, “How can I call you amazing when you act like a shallow asshole?”

  He snickers and swipes his thumb across the tip of his nose. “For some freaked-out reason, I can’t stand that you see me that way. It’s been eating me alive, and I hate it. I need to prove you wrong about me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not a shallow asshole,” he whispers, the look on his face making my heart expand in ways it shouldn’t. His deep blue gaze begs me to understand.

  Those eyes are raw with honesty and they’ve never been more beautiful.

  “You gotta let me show you that I’m not a total dick. Give me one date.”

  The word date shocks me out of my surprised daze. I shake my head. “A date? I’m not… I can’t go on a date with you.”

  “Why not?”

  Seriously? All that stuff about not being a shallow asshole and he doesn’t understand why I’m saying no?

  His dark eyebrows lift, waiting for my answer.