Breaking Rules

by S. B. Alexander

  Nausea shot up to settle in my throat. “We were kids with a pipe dream. Oh, and you cheated on me.”

  Her features grew dark, or maybe it was a cloud skating in front of the sun. “I’m not giving up. And I’m not letting a new girl steal what’s mine.” Her bitchiness grew with every word.

  I threw my head back, inhaled, then slowly righted my head. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

  She huffed and finally let go of me. “We’ll see about that.” Then she stomped away.

  Sucking in a much-needed breath, I checked my arm. I had red imprints. I wiped the sweat off my face then wanted to scream. Instead, I growled out, “Women.”

  I started a slow jog, pounding one foot then the other into the hot pavement. My head slowly cleared as I honed in on the game—a very important game against a tough team. And I had a scout attending tonight’s game as well. So I decided to run one last lap then hit the showers. When I came around the track alongside the bleachers, I spotted Drew, Nina’s cousin. His carrottop seemed blinding in the afternoon sun. I slowed to a walk. “Hey, Drew. How are you after that lab accident?” I liked the tenth grader. He’d always been nice to me when Nina and I were dating.

  “Good,” he said, picking at his fingers.

  “What’re you doing out here?” Drew was a nerd who was into science and building things. If anyone were looking for the kid after school, he could be found either in the science lab or the library ninety-nine percent of the time. Maybe he was finally getting over his shyness to ask a girl out. “Are you interested in one of the cheerleaders?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  I grinned. “Good luck, man. I got to run.” I blew past the cheerleaders and didn’t stop running until I was outside the locker room. I was a little calmer, although a long shower would do the trick. But when I entered the quiet room, I skidded to a stop.

  Half of the football team was crowded around Derek and Montana while Derek read a passage from Montana’s mom’s book. Man, I opened a can of worms with that book.

  I cleared my throat as I pushed two players out of the way.

  “My heart beat faster anytime she was in a room,” Derek read aloud.

  The guys were riveted, while Montana wore a happy expression or maybe a proud one since her mom was the author.

  I snatched the book from Derek. “Stay out of my locker. Now all of you get dressed.” I stuck a glare on each player then Montana. “You, out.” I didn’t want to ask what she was doing in the locker room in the first place.

  Her stunning face radiated with a menacing glow. “Still pissy, I see.” She’d changed out of her nun-style outfit and into short shorts.

  “Are you looking to practice some moves that your mom outlined in her book?” That appealed to me, especially if she wrapped her long legs around me.

  “Nah. I know those by heart. I’m here to make your life miserable. In fact, that’s my mission between now and graduation.”

  I grasped her arm. “Come with me.” It was time to settle whatever was happening between us. I knew what my body wanted, but my brain was shouting at me to stay away from her. She’s trouble. She’ll break your heart.

  She giggled. “Kidnapping won’t look good on your college applications.”

  I growled as I opened the door to the weight room, which was tucked in the back of the locker room.

  She swayed that sweet ass of hers inside.

  I bit my bottom lip. “You’re not protesting or running.” I followed her into the jock-, sweat-, and feet-scented room.

  Austin popped up from the weight bench, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Hey, man. Can you give us a minute?” I asked my best friend.

  He grabbed a towel. “The room is all yours.” Then he hurried out.

  Montana crossed her arms over her tight tank top. “So what do you want to talk about?”

  I stalked up to her. “Who said anything about talking?”

  She giggled as she inched back until her body was up against the punching bag. Her chest rose and fell as she batted her long lashes at me.

  I snaked my hand around her head, grabbed a fist full of her thick hair, and tugged gently so I had full access to her delicate face. Her sweeping mascaraed lashes fluttered as her blue eyes sucked me in. She gulped loudly, her tongue darting out to lick her lips, and within a flash of a second, my gaze dropped to her mouth. I lowered my head until my lips were barely touching hers. Her breathing increased, as did mine. I anchored my free hand on her hip to keep myself steady, but my fingers had a mind of their own, shaping the curve of her waist. I wanted to explore every part of her.

  Dial it back, dude. You’re forgetting you don’t want to get involved.

  My hand slowly traveled around her waist to the small of her back, where I dipped my fingers underneath her top. As soon as I touched bare skin, I lost control. I jerked her to me until she was flush against my sweaty body. She moaned, a sound that made my groin react instantly. I dragged my lips along her jaw, down her neck, and settled on that sensitive spot behind her ear—the spot her mom had described in that sex scene in her book.

  As though one of the guys dumped a cold bucket of Gatorade over my head, I released her and backed away.

  She stumbled slightly before she angled her head. Her cheeks were beet red as she lasered her angry but disappointed gaze on me. “What’s wrong? Afraid? Not sure what to do?”

  I spun around so my back was to her and adjusted my boner. I conjured up images of football and ramming our opponents, but that did nothing for relief.

  She came around, glanced down at my crotch, then back up to me before she rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ve seen a hard-on before. What spooked you?”

  Oh, the fact that I was trying out one or two moves from your mother’s book made me feel weird.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “You’re not my type.” I headed for the door, itching to turn around and take her on the weight bench. But that would have been a colossal mistake for both her and me.

  She muttered expletives under her breath. “I told you you’re not my type, either.”

  She had said that on the first day of school.

  “Then we’re in agreement.” I stalked out and found Austin and Derek and a couple of other guys with different expressions that I didn’t have time to figure out. Then I noticed Drew among the players.

  “Man, that was hot,” Derek said. “You learned those moves from the scene in that book.”

  I clenched my jaw. “You ever hear of privacy?” I’d forgotten that the door to the weight room had a window. “And what are you doing in here?” I asked Drew. Again, he was a nerd into science shit, and the locker room was definitely not a science lab.

  On second thought, I didn’t want to know. I darted into a bathroom stall until Montana left. Even then, she didn’t really leave. Her coconut scent lingered in the air, and I swore it made the guys act weird. My mission after the football game was to burn that book, burn any memory of sex, girls, and especially Montana. Which would be impossible after that hot scene in the weight room. With her flush against me, my hands on her, her thick bottom lip between my teeth, all I’d wanted to do was suck the sweetness out of her.

  “Bye, Montana,” Derek said loudly.

  “Train,” Drew said.

  Fuck. This kid had hardly spoken to me in school, and in the last thirty minutes, he was in my face.

  I threw open the stall door. “Make it quick. I’ve got to suit up.” Or jack off first.

  He looked away, nervous. As Austin had said, Drew did shop at a different mall. “I need some advice. I want to ask one of the cheerleaders to the debutante ball. But I’m not sure if she’ll say yes. So maybe you can give me some pointers.”

  I almost busted out laughing—not at him, but because he thought I could help him. I was the worst person to ask for advice. “Drew, roll your shoulders back, keep your head up, and make eye contact. Then ask her.” I didn’t want to know who the chick was. It was
none of my business, and I didn’t want to get involved, considering Drew was related to Nina. “I’ve got a game.”

  He nodded his head a few times. “Thanks.” Then he rushed out.

  I scratched my head. He’d never asked me for advice before. But I traded thoughts about Drew for other important things like a big football game. After I suited up, I left the guys and headed for Coach’s office, which was two doors down from the boisterous locker room. The closer I got, the louder Montana’s voice got. I lingered in the hall, listening.

  “Did you change your mind about me being on the team?” Montana asked and then snorted.

  I held my breath as I scanned the empty and dimly lit hall.

  “No. Actually, I wanted to ask a personal favor. If you say no, I completely understand. You said your mother knows Joey Dennison. Is she still in contact with him?”

  That name sounded vaguely familiar.

  “I don’t think so,” Montana replied. “Why?”

  “I had an idea that would fire up the team. Maybe Joey would be open to joining us for a practice to show the guys some plays.”

  “I could talk to my mom.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I just thought I would ask.” Coach sounded like a little boy who wanted desperately to meet his idol.

  I heard rustling.

  I inched closer until I was standing in the doorway. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll get back to you, Coach.” She shoved me out of the way, or more like I let her, then she vanished.

  Coach snagged his ball cap from his desk. “Lover’s quarrel? I don’t want to know. Let’s talk about the game.”

  I sat down on the warm seat, and despite Montana’s lingering scent, football dominated the conversation and my thoughts. Coach and I dove into the details of plays for that night’s game and talked about the USC scout. Before long, we were on the field, playing among a packed house of parents, students, cheerleaders, the band, and a few from the media. I played the game, thought about the game, and refused to look in the stands for the scout, my old man, or even Montana.

  After a grueling win by the skin of our pants, we marched to the locker room, slapping high fives and talking shit about the game. Our opponents had a fucking tight defense. I’d even gotten sacked twice. I was certain my old man would have something to say about that. Regardless, a win was a win. Besides, Coach would work us hard during the next practice to make sure we closed the gap on our offense.

  Austin and I trailed behind the team, discussing our plans for the weekend, then we both stopped short. The team parted, opening up a chasm, as though Austin and I were some prominent leaders.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Derek’s big physique blocked the door. “You’re not going to like this, man.”

  Please tell me Montana is not behind that door. I was riding my high from our win, and I might do something drastic like ask her out.

  Derek slid to one side, revealing a huge heart. Inside the heart were the words “Train sucks.”

  Austin touched the letters. “It’s dry. Someone had to do this right after we left for the second half.”

  The door had been clean when we came in for halftime.

  “Maybe Montana did this because of the weight room scene,” Derek said.

  Highly possible, considering her feistiness. She’d shoved me out of the way when she left Coach’s office. Then a loud ding, ding, ding went off in my head. She was an artist, a “tagger” as she called herself. But I didn’t see her cool signature of “Spunk” that she’d drawn in computer class earlier that day. Maybe she didn’t want me to know what she’d done. Either way, she’d given me another reason to rattle her nerves.

  Chapter Thirteen

  MONTANA

  I ventured into the kitchen, expecting an empty room since it was Monday morning. Mom sat at the island with her laptop opened and her fingers tapping the keys. The click, click, click, sounded like a soft drumbeat.

  I gathered a bowl, spoon, the box of Cheerios, and the milk then sat across from her. “Did some crazy idea pop into your head in the middle of the night?”

  One whole week had passed since I started at my new school, and in that time, I had enough drama in my life for my mom to use in ten books.

  She barely regarded me as she flicked a strand of her messy hair out of her face. “Since we’ve been here, the story I’d been struggling with is pouring out.”

  I filled my bowl with cereal. “You’ve been at it all weekend.”

  She even canceled the Saturday night dinner we were supposed to have as part of us spending time together. I’d been looking forward to us wandering around the city, window-shopping, and eating at a cool restaurant. But at the last minute, she’d dumped me. I’d felt as though we were back in New York, where all of her weekends consisted of writing or dating. Normally, I would have huffed and puffed then tagged. But not this time.

  She took a sip of her coffee, and then she bent over, lifted her computer bag, and set it on the counter. Disappointment washed over her face as she removed a paint can… my paint can. It was the one I’d had in my schoolbag, the one I used for tagging. I was waiting for her to show me the other can, but she only set the one down.

  My heart stopped beating for a long second.

  “Are you tagging again?” she asked.

  I swallowed the fear ball that was lodged in my throat. “Where did you get that?” My schoolbag was in my room, or so I thought. “Did you go into my room?”

  “That’s not an answer.” Her voice matched the anger swimming in her eyes.

  “It’s not what you think.” I’d had every intention of tagging something on Friday night. Train had had me so flipping frustrated. And during halftime, I’d wanted to tag his locker, but I didn’t know which one it was. I’d almost settled for the locker room door, but then I thought about what could happen to me. And Train wasn’t worth me getting expelled. I’d also heard voices. So I’d torn out of the school like white lightning. “I carry them in my bag. That’s it.”

  Mom stared at me over her coffee mug. “So you didn’t tag anything?”

  “I promise. I didn’t. Besides, I’ve been here all weekend. Remember? You dumped me.” So I’d locked myself in my room. Otherwise, I probably would’ve colored the city with my artwork, which was one of the reasons I hadn’t accepted Elvira’s offer to go out with her to the Music Farm. I’d also declined since Train would be there. I wasn’t ready to deal with him—not that I was afraid of him. I was more afraid that I would either kick him in the balls or throw myself at him in a desperate need to lock lips with him.

  I shoved a spoonful of cereal in my mouth. After I swallowed, I hopped off the stool and deposited my half-eaten bowl of cereal into the sink. I wasn’t hungry anymore.

  My mom caught my arm. “Montana, you better not be lying to me.”

  “I’m not. You should write, Mom.”

  The lines around her face softened. “Hey, I’m sorry about canceling on you this weekend. I’m trying to meet my deadline. But something tells me you’re bothered by something else as well. It’s that boy, Train. You like him but don’t want to admit it.”

  Busted on that count. “I need to get to school.”

  She set down her cup and swiveled on the barstool. “Honey, talk to me. I might be absorbed in the story I’m writing, but I’m not dead. I get that you’re upset with me, but you could’ve gone out with your new friends this weekend.”

  I hated that she knew me so well, although I wasn’t sure she believed me when I said I hadn’t tagged. “Okay, here’s the deal. I like Train. But he’s an asshat. He gets under my skin and stays there.”

  She rubbed my arms. “Which is the reason you want to tag? But didn’t, right?”

  I huffed. “I didn’t tag, Mom.”

  She mashed her lips. “What does he do that makes you mad?”

  “He says things like I’m not his type, yet he gets in my face like he’s going to kiss me then stor
ms off. I’m also afraid that if he does kiss me, that I’ll fall for him like I did Nikko.” Train had barely nibbled on my lips in the weight room. I was talking tongue action.

  She frowned. “You shouldn’t be afraid of feeling for someone. Yes, the breakup with Nikko hurt. All first loves do. It’s your senior year, honey. Train is a good-looking boy. Have a little fun. Maybe go to the ball with him.”

  “It takes two, Mom.”

  She placed her hands in her lap. “Give it time. He’ll come around.”

  I shrugged. “So how do I have fun without letting my heart get in the way? How did you date so many men without feeling for them?” Then it dawned on me that I had to ask her about Joey Dennison.

  She gave me a weak smile as she swept my hair from my shoulder. “I did have feelings for a couple of them, but their values weren’t my values. Honey, we’ve been through a lot in the last month. You’ve got a new school, we haven’t completely unpacked, and I have my book deadline looming. So things around here will be a little tense for both of us. So please bear with me. Okay?”

  I understood that her books were what kept food on the table for us. However, it still hurt that she’d blown me off. It also didn’t help that all the drama at school had me in a funky mood. “I’ll try.”

  She wrapped my arms around me. “I love you.”

  I hugged her back. “Same here, Mom.”

  She grabbed her coffee cup and went over to the counter to fill it.

  “Speaking of old boyfriends,” I said, “Coach Holmes seems to be in awe that we know Joey Dennison. He wanted to ask if you still had contact with him. He mentioned that he would love to see if Joey would be interested in giving the football team some pointers.”

  She poured milk in her coffee. “He emails me every now and then. I could ask. I wouldn’t mind seeing him.”

  “Thank you. Also I have my tutoring session this afternoon. Oh, and I’m supposed to hear back from one or two of the art galleries.”

  She set down her cup then kissed me on the forehead. “Speaking of the job, I decided you should concentrate on school and your grades. I’d rather you not work. But that’s entirely up to you.”