“I have an appointment after school.” That stupid meeting with a counselor. “If I come up with an idea after that—”
“Over and out.” Mavis hung up, through with all the talking.
Like I needed more stress. I pressed my foot to the brake, checked my rearview, waved to a man walking his dog who I knew was a reporter given the camera around his neck, and threw the car in reverse.
The Civic choked, sputtered, shook. And died.
“No.” I gripped the steering wheel. “No, no, no. Not today. Not now.” I twisted the key and tried to turn the engine again.
But nothing.
The car was dead.
I pressed my cheek to the cool glass window.
“Problems?” Michael appeared at my window.
I startled and glared. “Major.”
“If this is a nerd meltdown, I’m zero help. I don’t speak anime or Dr. Who.”
“My car’s dead.”
“So ride with me.”
“No.”
“Afraid of raising your cool factor?”
I tried the key again, but the car only made clicking sounds, like it was drumming its nails in absolute boredom.
“It needs a jump,” Michael said.
I opened my door. “You have cables.”
“No time, señorita. I have basketball practice in five. I’m not running bleachers for being late. Either you’re riding with me or you walk.”
My life was one big sitcom. And every time I had it together, someone added a disaster to the scene.
“It’s not that big of a deal, Harper.”
But it was. I had plans for this car today. Places to go.
“Come on, Harper. It’s either go with me or walk.”
I slammed my car door. Kicked a tire. And caught a ride with my brother.
Practice normally lifted my spirits. If I had to do mornings, I liked when it could include music and my band friends. But today nothing was clearing my bad mood. Andrew marched along beside me for a solid hour—which brightened my spirits some, but not as much as it should’ve. I guess my heart was just too heavy after last night’s soap opera. Ridley had texted me this morning, and his concern was undeniably sweet.
How are you doing? Worried about you after last night.
Minutes before first hour, I opened my locker and grabbed a textbook. I’d scoured the halls for Ridley, anxious to talk to him and see if his mom had ever shown up, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I went up on tiptoe to search for a binder.
An arm slipped around my shoulders, and I whirled around, my book falling to the floor.
“Whoa, hey!” Andrew took a step back, hands lifted in surrender. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Andrew.” My breath came in bursts as I gave a shaky laugh. “It’s fine.” But if it was fine, why was I retreating even more, until my shoulders pressed against my locker?
“Mr. Sanchez caught me after practice, and when I looked up, you were gone.”
A girl with a crush would’ve stuck around and waited on her boy, wouldn’t she? I stunk at this stuff. I just had too much on my mind. “I have a test next hour and needed a few more minutes to study.”
“You seemed quiet out there on the field.”
I replaced my frown with a smile. This was the object of my affection, and I needed to appreciate his attention. “I have a lot going on.”
“Maybe I can cheer you up.” From behind his back he produced a flower. An origami rose. “For you.”
“Thank you.” I took the offering, my heart perking a bit at the gesture. For me.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah. I think I’m just a little overwhelmed with my dad, and there’s this poor woman who needs to surrender her dog, and—”
“I totally have our newest song for Friday’s game memorized. Isn’t that awesome? I mean, the bridge on that thing is so fun to play, isn’t it?”
I blinked. Okay, so Andrew wasn’t into hearing about my sordid personal life. That was okay. I didn’t really feel like talking about it anyway. “That’s awesome.” I ran my finger over the origami petals. “The rose is great. Very artistic.”
“See you later, I hope.”
The world moved in slow motion as Andrew leaned down and pressed a kiss onto my flushed cheek. My eyes went wide, and I suspended all attempts at breathing.
Straightening, he grinned. “Oh, and take another look at that flower.”
I admired Andrew’s retreating form as he walked down the hall, my pulse slowly returning to normal. He wore his usual uniform of dark jeans and an indie band shirt. His longish hair brushed the back of his collar, and in his back pocket was a protruding phone. He’d told me his phone housed photo collections of random things that inspired him to write some of his band’s songs. Yesterday he’d put my picture in his collection.
It was all very sweet. I kept waiting for the crush feelings to intensify, but I think my system was too overloaded with everything else. A girl could only handle so many feels before she short-circuited. Or self-medicated with cookies.
Grabbing the rest of the necessities from my locker, I took off down the same hall. Dodging two couples and one janitor, I unfolded Andrew’s intricate flower creation and found it was actually a note. How adorable. Who wrote notes anymore? I loved it already.
Harper,
For you I am over the moon.
Meet me outside at the giant oak.
Preferably at straight-up noon.
Your second trumpet,
Andrew
The day crawled on turtle’s legs, and curiosity kept me on the edge ’til we had seconds left in English. When the bell finally rang, I was the first one out the door. I couldn’t remember what we’d done in class, what homework Mrs. Patton had assigned. All I knew was that my presence had been mysteriously requested by Andrew.
The sky hanging over the commons was overcast, and the chill in the air had me wishing I hadn’t left my jacket in my locker.
“Hello, Harper.” Andrew pushed off from the giant oak at the north end of the campus. He reached out and took my hand, and I stared at our joined fingers. I was holding hands with a boy. I was holding hands with a boy! And I wasn’t even sweating.
“Take a seat.” Andrew gestured toward the blanket covering the sparse grass.
“What is this?”
“Lunch.”
I laughed as giddy butterflies flitted in my chest. “For me?”
He released my hand and smiled. “For us.”
For us. It had a nice sound to it. I had envisioned it. I’d wanted it for so long. He was exactly what I’d been looking for.
He unzipped his backpack. “I hope you like PB&J. It’s the special today.”
I rested my phone on the ground beside me. “It’s exactly what I would’ve ordered.”
“And a side dish, too, of course.” He opened a bag of ranch-flavored chips. “I hope they’re seasoned to your liking.”
I reached in the bag and took a bite. “A hundred artificial ingredients crammed onto one tiny tortilla. You’re totally speaking my love language here.”
“And something to drink.” He handed me a Dasani, uncapping the lid.
I smiled. “A bottle of your finest.”
“Actually it’s from the vending machine.” Andrew’s brow furrowed. “It’s just water.”
So sometimes the boy’s humor failed him, but maybe it was just nerves.
“Let’s eat.” Andrew toasted my drink to his.
We ate in silence for a full minute, and my every bite was fraught with anxiety. Should I be talking? Did he want me to initiate a conversation? Was he not into talking? Should I have spent more time on my hair?
Rule one of conversation is to ask the person about themselves.
“So . . . what do you think of Washington High so far?”
He finished chewing hit bite, his lips curved in a beautiful grin. “So far I’ve made some good friends, joined a killer b
and, and now I’m hanging out with you.” He scooted closer to me and rested his hand on my shoe. “Things are definitely looking up.”
Every girl instinct in me said if I just inclined my head, if I simply leaned forward ever-so-slightly, Andrew would press his lips to mine.
So why wasn’t I doing it?
Andrew’s green eyes studied my face, and he slipped his fingers through a tendril of hair blowing in the breeze, tucking it behind my ear. “You could become the best part of this school,” he whispered.
He leaned in.
I leaned in.
Close your eyes. Open your mouth. Lean into—
“O’Malley!”
I jerked away from Andrew, only to find Ridley walking toward our picnic.
“Impeccable timing,” Andrew said, his hand resting on my knee like he was staking a claim.
“What is it?” I jumped up a little too quickly and brushed some crumbs from my shirt.
“Am I interrupting?” Ridley surveyed the scene before turning his attention back to me, a mocking grin telling me he knew perfectly well he was.
My voice was about as sweet as vinegar. “Did you want something?”
His expression sobered. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’m busy,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Gonna borrow your little lady here for just a minute. Very sorry.” He grabbed me by my arm and pulled me out of earshot of my date.
“Let go of me.” Bossy, impudent jerk. Where did he get the idea he could just drag me off, that I was there to jump at his every bidding? I put the brakes on and crossed my arms. “I’m not going any further. Tell me what’s going on, or I’m going back to Andrew. He doesn’t shove me around.”
Hurt slashed across Ridley’s stricken face. “I’ve never shoved you.”
“I . . . wrong choice of words. I . . . just tell me what the problem is. And where have you been?”
“With the USK athletic director. I had my meeting with him. Took the morning off, waited in his lobby over an hour, and he barely gave me five minutes.”
Moncrief had promised me thirty. “What did he say?”
“He has no interest in having me on his team.”
“You’re working on your grades. You’re going to graduate with all your credits. Surely that counts for something.”
“He says the team has to continue working on cultivating its image, raising the bar for the Eagle reputation.” His eyes flashed temper. “And I don’t have what it takes to uphold that reputation.”
“He doesn’t understand. Did you tell him about your mom?”
“No.” Clearly that was the dumbest idea ever. “I can’t tell anyone about her. And neither can you.”
“This could be so easy to straighten out.”
“Harper, if the police find out the way that night really went down, it makes my mom look very bad. As in bad enough to attract the attention of child services. And it wouldn’t be the first time. I can’t let that happen.”
“Well, did you mention you made a B on your last test in comp?”
“I didn’t get that far. He spent the entire time telling me what he was looking for, and how I wasn’t it. Said he’d advised your dad to steer clear of me.”
“But I saw your stats. You’re nationally ranked. You’re one of the best wide receivers in the state.”
“Moncrief plans to sign his number one pick in the spring. Apparently I was his second choice, so with your dad out of the way, plus my rap sheet, I’ve been replaced.”
“Maybe if you—”
“He’s done, Harper. Chevy Moncrief looks at me and all he sees is a punk kid with a barely passing GPA and a white trash discipline record.”
“But that’s not you.” I looked down and realized I was clutching his hand. “You’re so much more than that. You’re an incredible football player, you’re surprisingly smart—”
“Gee, thanks.”
“And you’re all but raising your sisters by yourself.”
Storm clouds loomed behind those eyes. Ridley was running out of options, running thin on hope. “I can’t lose my sisters. Everything I do, it’s for them.”
“Ridley, you can’t keep living like this. You can’t go to college, play football, and be a full-time caregiver to Emmie and Faith.”
“But that’s what I have to do.”
“They need a parent.”
“I’m eighteen. I can be their parent.”
“This isn’t over yet,” I said. “The season is still young, and there are months until spring signings.”
He pushed a hand through his hair, his anguished eyes holding mine. “I feel it slipping out of my hands, Harper.”
My heart ached to help him, but what could I do? The Eagles’ athletic director was so wrong about this boy. Just like I had been.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” Ridley said. “Clear my head.”
“And go where?”
“I don’t know. Anywhere but here.”
I thought about the counseling appointment I was desperate to escape. “I think I’ve got just the place.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Another puppy abduction?” Ridley turned the Jeep a little too sharply onto the highway. “This is your big getaway? Your moment of busting loose?”
“Excuse me for combining my truancy with a noble deed.” I consulted my text from Mavis one more time. “I was going to suggest holding up a liquor store and sexy wild sex, but that seemed entirely too unoriginal.”
“Sexy wild sex?” Ridley held those full lips together but his laugh escaped anyway. “Please expand on that one.”
“Just drive. There’s a dog’s life at stake here. Her neighbors say she forgets to feed him sometimes and is one accident away from burning down her house around them.”
“Do you ever think your dognapping is crossing a line?”
“I don’t cross lines. It’s always on the up and up. I only take dogs who are severely abused.”
“Will you need my muscles?” Ridley gave a sniff of feigned arrogance. “I could apply a little brute force.”
“Henrietta Tucker is eighty-five, mostly blind, and partially deaf. Pretty sure I can handle her. Besides, she isn’t intentionally hurting her dog, so it’s not like I’m going to break in there, knock her down, and steal her precious schnauzer.”
“That’s a little disappointing. I was in the mood for more duck-and-cover like last time. But I should warn you—old ladies dig me.”
“This one can’t see, so she’ll be immune to your hypnotic eyes.”
“Hypnotic, huh?” He watched me a little too closely.
“I was teasing.” My cheeks burned warm as a Kentucky sun in June. “It’s not like I’ve studied your eyes.” My laugh sounded a tad bit forced. “I don’t even know what color they are.” A deep brown like coffee with a teaspoon of cream, highlighted by flecks of olive green or mahogany, depending on the color of shirt Ridley was wearing.
“And what’s my role in this dog extraction?”
“To sit pretty in your Jeep. I’ll handle this one.”
“And miss out on all the fun?”
“Despite our previous escapade, I work solo.”
He turned down the radio then returned his arm to the console between us. “You normally conduct your dog espionage after hours. How about you tell me why you’re really ditching school.”
“I’m protesting the lack of meatless choices in the cafeteria.”
“Try again.”
My phone vibrated with a text from Andrew. I’d left him standing in the courtyard with a scowl, as he hadn’t known what to say to my excuse of an urgent job for the shelter. But with an apology promise to call him later, I’d thanked him for the sweet picnic, then made a quick departure.
“I’m not skipping,” I said to Ridley. “I’m merely exercising my right to experience new educational opportunities in the real world.”
Ridley sighed. “I bet it’s a long walk to this lady�
��s house.”
“Fine. My mom made me a counseling appointment, and I don’t want to go.”
He flicked on his turn signal and frowned. “That’s it? You’re skipping so you don’t have to sit and talk to someone about your feelings for an hour?”
“Some things aren’t worth talking about.”
“Such as?”
“My bio-mom. The great Coach O’Malley.”
“So you talk about it, make your parents happy, and you’re done. What’s the harm?”
Because when I thought about Becky Dallas, something black and dark unfurled in my stomach, and I wanted to keep the bad years where they belonged—in the past, under tight lock and key. “Make a left at this stoplight.”
“Prison’s pretty serious,” Ridley continued. “What happened that was so bad your mom—”
“Andrew’s going to kiss me.” That shut him up.
Ridley reached for the radio. Switched it off. “You really need to work on your conversation transitions.”
“I think he’s going to kiss me, maybe at the dance.”
“Congratulations.”
I was sixteen. I was a firm believer in not giving up the goods, and going at your own pace. But still. The pressure to be like the other girls. To hear one of Molly’s makeout stories and be able to do more than just listen. To put that flair on my girl-club sash that said, I have been well and truly kissed. I wanted that. I read five billboards and two exit signs before finally spitting out, “I don’t have much kissing experience.”
His voice sounded painfully careful. “How much do you have?”
“Danny Jacobson. Sixth grade on a class field trip to a carnival. I told him if he’d win me a teddy bear at the ring toss, I’d kiss him. I never thought the nearsighted idiot would make it.” Ridley’s lips quivered, and I continued. “The point is that kissing should be included in your tutorial.”
He went the kind of still that usually required checking for a pulse.
I dared a closer look, and his face was completely void of expression. “Ridley?”
“I’m processing.”
“You’ve made out with every girl on the Washington High campus.” Yet he had to stop and consider whether he could make himself kiss me? Didn’t that sting just a tiny bit. “What’s one more?”
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