by D'Ann Burrow
It was like he’d read my mind. His lips screwed to the side, and he almost appeared to be just a hint embarrassed. “I’m hoping to go to school to be a marine biologist.”
“Then you’d need to visit the Birch Aquarium too.” I could talk fish.
“Ah. I've heard of that place too. Have you been there?” Now he didn’t sound flirty. He looked like an over-eager puppy.
"A few times."
"Now you've made me jealous.” He grinned at me. His front tooth was just a little crooked. He might be attractive, but he was still human.
“Well isn’t this cozy?” Scarlett stood in the doorway to my room. Arms crossed in front of her chest, her body was tense, and her lips were narrowed so tightly they’d be white if she weren’t wearing so much lipstick
“I'd better get back to work.” Tanner flinched. “I need to get that grass mowed before dark.”
"You do that." She acted like Tanner was her slave. “We can’t have our star quarterback staying out too late.”
As he left, she stayed fixed in place, staring at me with the same expression she’d used when she caught me playing with her limited edition Barbies before the unexpected haircut. Her toys or Tanner—Scarlett’s message was clear. I needed to keep my hands off things that belonged to my cousin.
6
Rule # 73 – Nothing’s as bad as you think it is. Sometimes it’s worse
6:52 a.m.
Loretta’s bathroom
* * *
“Hurry. Up!” A fist pounded on the closed door.
Being from a state where water conservation is preached from infancy, I was good at fast showers. I could take one in less than five minutes. Yes, I’d had to wait for Loretta’s apparently-ancient hot water heater to decide to switch from cold to lukewarm, but I knew I hadn’t been in the bathroom for more than ten minutes. The mirror hadn’t even fogged over yet.
“Just give me a second.” I regretted the slice of coconut cream pie at dinner last night when I tried to tug my borrowed jeans closed. In the few minutes I’d left her unsupervised in my room, Sonya had managed to toss a dictionary, a thesaurus, two jackets, and a pair of boots in my suitcase—but no jeans. Since I didn’t know going to school with Scarlett was going to be on the agenda for this little trip, I hadn’t packed any either. And now I regretted it.
Standing side by side, we looked similar enough, I guess. At least close enough to be able to tell we were related. Even though Scarlett had the sexy, dark, and sultry vibe going for her while I was California-blonde, our features were still similar enough to occasionally be mistaken for siblings. We both looked like our mothers. And, just like our mothers, I was just a little curvier than Scarlett. As I tried to zip the zipper, I wished I’d inherited Loretta’s build.
Inhale.
Hold it.
Inhale more.
One hard tug.
Success. I smoothed my t-shirt down over the waistband of the jeans, and I couldn’t really tell they were tight. Considering Scarlett’s preferred wardrobe, they were probably supposed to fit a little snugly. I spun to check the view from the back.
Not bad.
I definitely wouldn’t make it past my dad in these, but they’d be manageable, at least for a few days. Gathering my things, I opened the bathroom door, and Scarlett fell inside. Literally. As in, one minute she must have been preparing yet another assault on the closed door, and in the next I tossed the offending door open in a sneak attack.
“It took you long enough.” She addressed me as if I’d been violating her civil rights. Any teen drama star would have been thrilled to achieve the level of contempt dripping from her voice.
“Sorry. I had to shower.”
“So do the rest of us.” Scarlett sniffed, already bending down and grabbing a handful of hair products and lotions from a lower cabinet. “I have to be at school an hour early today. We have a cheer meeting.”
“Look, I said I was sorry. If you’d have told me—”
“What? If I’d told you, would you have skipped your shower?”
“No, but I’d have let you go first.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She set the hairspray on the counter with more force than necessary. “We both have to get ready. The bus doesn’t come down this road, and Mom’s disappeared somewhere. She told me to drive you.”
“But I can’t enroll myself.”
“She’s going to meet us at school.” She turned to face me, and it was the Scarlett I remembered from our childhood looking back at me. Before she’d had a chance to put on any makeup, she looked at least five years younger. Her freckles stood out vividly against her pale cheeks. “But it has to be all about you, doesn’t it?”
“What?”
“I mean, you don’t care that you’re making me late.”
“I didn’t know I was making you late.”
“All you wanted to know about was how you were going to register for school. I didn’t think you wanted to go.”
“I don’t, but Loretta seemed to think it was a thing.”
“Yeah. One more thing for my mom to worry about. You.” She approached me, and I backed into the hallway out of reflex. “You think you’re so special, don’t you? That’s what they’ve always told you, right?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Forget it.”
Before I could say anything else, the door closed in my face with a thud that signaled the discussion — or whatever you wanted to call it — was over.
7
Piney Bluff High School
8:35 a.m.
* * *
My fingers closed around the test papers. I took the top copy before passing the rest over my shoulder to the rest of the row. I hadn’t really thought Ms. Shelton was an essay question kind of teacher. I’d figured her more for multiple choice. Judging from the groans around me as each booklet landed on each desk with a thud, I wasn’t the only one who’d underestimated Ms. Shelton. At this rate, she’d be out of her copy paper allotment by October.
Static crackled from above. Everyone in the class held their breath. Everyone wanted the summons to be for them.
“Ms. Shelton?” An office aide’s voice filtered unevenly into the room.
“Yes?”
“Can Tanner Shields come to the office?”
Ms. Shelton shot me a look signaling she thought I’d paid off someone in the office. I shrugged, hoping to look innocent. After all, I really hadn’t done anything. At least not this time.
I grabbed the blank test booklet off the top of my desk and headed toward the front of the room, handing it to Ms. Shelton without a word.
“You’ll need to make this up after school.”
“I have practice today.”
“Then I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Sure.” By then I’d probably know everything on the test right down to the essay questions. Pens were scribbling against paper as the door closed behind me. I took one last look through the glass, catching Amberly looking at me. She raised an eyebrow but still nodded her head. I’d have to catch her in English class.
Unlike when I was called down to the office yesterday, I had a pretty good idea of why I was paying a visit today, and it wasn’t because the principal wanted to congratulate me on Friday’s game. Mr. Morrison already did that in the locker room Friday night.
By the time choir was over, Mr. Curtis had told me to leave without bothering to measure me for a tux, so was surprised it took this long to get the summons from Ms. Ross. Good timing, though. I’d read over my notes but not to pop-quiz levels.
I made my way down the hall, past the locker bank, and down the stairs. The freshman vice principal stalked down one hallway while the cop-wanna-be was on patrol just around the corner from the lockers. Someone must have tipped them off to people skipping class.
If any guys got kicked off the team because they weren’t fans of their first period class, I was going to be ticked. Well, maybe not if Alex got kicked off
. If Alex got benched, I’d at least have a couple games where he wasn’t breathing down my neck.
I almost walked past the office, but I caught myself at the last minute. I turned, ready to face Ms. Ross’ firing squad of one, even if I didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t my fault I’d never been in choir. Just like it wasn’t my fault Mr. Childress played loose with the whole scheduling thing. He was the one calling the plays last year. Time to see what Mrs. Ross’ new game plan would be.
I opened the door and stepped into the office lobby, surprised to discover I wasn’t alone. Scarlett’s aunt sat in one of the chairs, and Scarlett’s cousin sat next to her. Definitely not the way I’d thought I’d be starting my day. What was she doing here? Scarlett had been pretty specific last night when she was ranting about her cousin coming for a visit.
Scarlett must be so pissed off. Judging by the look on her face, so was her cousin. Reagan? Taylor? Her name sounded like a president. Was Taylor a president?
“Mrs. Ross will be right with you Loretta,” the secretary came out of a back office, nodding to the visitors, “Kennedy, it shouldn’t take too much longer.”
Kennedy. That’s right.
Last night, she’d looked blurry. Like someone who’d been at one of the Saturday night barn parties who tried to work the morning shift at the doughnut shop. Today she looked mad. Every bit the ticked-off-California-rich-girl Scarlett described yesterday.
It wasn’t hard to tell she was from California. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Skin so tan, she could be on a commercial for sunscreen. The tips of her hair were such a white-blonde, the color looked fake. Maybe she was a little short for my taste, but it didn’t matter. Even through her jeans, I could see a hint of her calf muscles. I guessed she was one of those rich girls who spent every spare minute at the working out. She probably did yoga and drank kale smoothies. Right now, she seemed to be doing her best not to look at me, and that was good, because I was still looking at her.
“Tanner!” Mrs. Ross’ voice had the sharp edge like she’d been calling me for a while. When I turned, her lips curled like she wanted to laugh, but she also didn’t want to seem too happy to see me.
“Oh, hello, Tanner.” Loretta noticed me for the first time. Her mom really was spaced out half the time. Glad my mom wasn’t an artist. Being an aide at the nursing home didn’t pay well, but at least she lived here on earth. I was never too sure about Loretta.
“Mornin’ Ms. Loretta.” I nodded as I walked past.
“Today, Tanner.” Ms. Ross prompted. Her mood seemed to be deteriorating every second she stood staring at me in the short hallway.
“Yes, ma’am.” I inclined my head to the side, pointing at Loretta and Scarlett’s cousin without actually pointing. “Just being polite.”
“Be polite on your own time.” She shooed me into the door and pointed at the same chair I sat in yesterday. “I’m hearing choir didn’t go so well.”
While I wanted to tell her that may have been the understatement of the century, I just nodded in agreement. “So that means your choices are art or band. Based upon your experience yesterday, I don’t think band is really the best fit for you. So we’ll make it art, then. That’s last period. I’ll have to speak with the coaches again.”
“No. I can’t drop athletics.”
“But you need to graduate.”
“If I drop the class, then I won’t be a starter on the team. If I’m not a starter, I can kiss a scholarship goodbye.” Even I could tell everything she wore was probably made by a designer I couldn’t pronounce. The framed diploma on the wall read Southern Methodist University. I’ll bet she wasn’t a scholarship-student either. She didn’t understand my world.
No scholarship meant no college. No college meant I’d probably be stuck here working at the feed store the rest of my life.
That wasn’t going to happen.
My pulse churned in my ears like I’d just finished running five miles. “Is there another class that would count?”
“There’s drama. But it takes a great deal of commitment to be in the senior-level class” She said it dismissively, her tone hinting I wouldn’t be able to cut it. “There’s a great deal of memorization required.”
Where did she get off acting like I couldn’t handle a class like drama? I looked at the diploma again. Bachelor of Fine Arts in Theater. I should have guessed. She didn’t tell me about it because she thought I couldn’t do it.
“So does football.” I didn’t blink. “Sign me up.”
Her eyes told me she wasn’t convinced, but the creases at the corners of her lips said she didn’t really have much of a choice. I needed a class, and dropping football wasn’t an option. Her shoulders rose and fell as she took a long breath. She probably took yoga too. After today, she’d be needing to center herself. “Go wait in the office while I get your new schedule printed up.” She sounded like Mom when she’d given up trying to negotiate with Christian about something. “And, Tanner, you need to make this one work. Whatever it takes. I won’t change the course again. You understand?”
“I understand.”
8
Rule # 83 – Always travel with hand sanitizer
8:45 a.m.
Piney Bluff High School
* * *
The school office would have been Ellie’s idea of hell. Stuck somewhere between 70s-retro and 80s-sitcom, the décor was questionable at best. I could deal with the not-quite-cream walls and the ancient rattlesnake painting on the wall. I was even adapting to the leather chairs that may have been purchased when a pirate-themed seafood restaurant went out of business. It was my present company that had me uneasy.
I ran my hand over the arm of the chair. Bad decision. It was sticky. I cringed, balling my hands into fists, forgetting for the moment that Tanner seemed to be studying my every move. Being careful not to get whatever was on my hand onto my bag, I quickly dug for my container of hand sanitizer. I squirted more than just a dollop and rubbed away at my palm.
“They don’t let you have that stuff here, you know.”
“Hand sanitizer?”
“A group of the parents said kids could use it to get drunk last year. Mr. Morrison isn’t a fan of his students being drunk at school.”
“But it’s just hand sanitizer.”
“Try telling a teacher that. You’ll end up with Saturday school.”
Saturday school…because I used hand sanitizer? What kind of god-forsaken-hell did Aunt Loretta live in? For a second, I almost felt sorry for my cousin. Then I remembered her driving off without me this morning.
Scarlett could stay here.
“But I guess it won’t matter too much to you. I mean, you’re not going to be here too long, right?” He was baiting me. I could tell by the way his grin only covered half his face. He looked like Grant when he was training the newbies by having them run a little too close to a jellyfish warning. He wanted to see who actually used their brains and wasn’t just following orders, but I couldn’t figure out where this guy was getting off.
“I’m not. Loretta just didn’t understand my dad’s phone call. Why does it matter to you anyway?” I wasn’t that desperate for companionship. In two weeks, I’d be home, helping to happily guide the new freshman around Holy Cross.
“Just making conversation.” Sure. He probably had every single female here praying that he’d just turn their way. But I wasn’t just any girl.
He’d distracted me so much that I almost put my hands back on the hand rests. I didn’t want a repeat of whatever that was a minute ago. I folded my hands onto my lap and noticed a pull in the denim of Scarlett’s jeans. Of course she couldn’t give me a decent pair to wear. I’d be lucky if these didn’t end up falling apart by the end of the day.
Maybe I would be that lucky.
If sanitizer was a detention-earning expense, if I ended up pant-less, surely I’d get expelled. Then Aunt Loretta would have to understand. She’d have to just let me stay home until Dad was back from his trip. Perhaps th
e pull just needed a little help. Using my thumbnail, I started worrying at the thread. Scarlett wouldn’t be pleased if I destroyed her jeans, but it served her right for giving me a defective pair.
He was still watching me. I refused to play his game. I wasn’t going to look back at him.
I tugged at the tiny string, watching the fabric pucker around it. A soft laugh came from the chair across from me.
He could stare all he wanted. I didn’t have to pay attention to him.
“Have a problem there?” Obviously, he had an issue with someone ignoring him.
“It’s just a string.” It would have been rude not to answer. But I still didn’t have to look at him.
I glanced up at him. That was a mistake. Those green eyes were shining at me. He was enjoying this. “You’re going to make a hole.”
“What if that’s the point?”
“You want to wear duct tape?”
“What?” How did duct tape have anything to do with the currently non-existent hole in my shorts?
He nodded toward a closed office door. “He’ll make you put duct tape over the hole. And not just a little piece. Big enough that everyone will notice. Because that’s the whole point.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
“You think it’s funny?”
“No. Not really. It’s just, that’s the whole point—whole, hole. Sorry, I guess I’m just easily amused right now.”
Tanner shook his head, staring down at his well-worn cowboy boots. Back home, those boots would be a fashion statement, but judging by the scuffed toes and hole in the sole, they really were just that old. Funny. Football players were supposed to be the most important guys in the school. This one had holes in his boots?
“Kennedy?” Aunt Loretta was using too soft a voice, just like a voice someone would use calling a stray dog out of a busy street. I’d heard that voice when other lifeguards were trying to console freaked-out parents. Why was she using it on me?