T is for...he's a TOTAL jerk (Grover Beach Team #3)

by Piper Shelly

  “Only a few minutes,” Ryan answered. “Why are you up so early?”

  “I—er…”

  Suddenly Tony rolled around to his stomach, a scowl on his face. “Is that blood on your leg?”

  “Um…no.”

  “Of course it is.” He got to his feet and walked up the grassy slope.

  Ryan followed, and they both made me sit down in the grass, urging me to show them my leg.

  “Ah, seriously, it’s…um…” Goddammit, I needed to stop this silly stuttering, and fast.

  Ryan lifted a questioning eyebrow. “It’s nothing, you want to say?”

  “Just a scratch, no big deal.”

  He tried to shove my pant leg up, but the fabric was stuck to my skin with the dried blood and I winced. “This isn’t nothing,” he said with a scolding edge to his voice and started working the fabric gently away from the wound. “Did this happen when you fell into the brook?”

  I swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Tony snarled.

  “I didn’t want to ruin everybody’s evening.”

  Tony rolled his eyes, and the next moment a sharp pain ripped through me. Ryan had yanked the leg of my pants up. The wound had come free. I almost choked at the sight. He was right. This seriously wasn’t nothing. It looked ugly. Blood mingled with dirt, and some sort of substance seeped out of the wound.

  “Oh my freaking eew,” Tony exclaimed.

  Ryan lifted his head to him. “Is there some bottled water left?”

  Tony nodded and was gone before I could tell them I didn’t want anybody to butcher around with my leg. When he came back, I covered the injury with my hands. “Nobody’s going to touch this,” I warned in a voice gone lethal.

  Tony squatted down beside us and placed a hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right. Hunter knows what he’s doing. He’s the son of a vet.”

  I gave them both an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”

  Laughing, Ryan moved my hands away. “Don’t worry. Mitchell’s just being silly. But I’ve patched myself up more times than I can count. Trust me. I do know what I’m doing.” He unscrewed the bottle and slowly poured the water over my gushing wound.

  It burned like a thousand needles being pierced into my leg. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, especially when he wiped the sides clean with a tissue that Tony had brought, too.

  When most of the dirt was washed away, it didn’t look so bad anymore. Just a vicious red cut deep into the flesh. And from the middle protruded a splinter.

  Oh. My. God. I trembled as weakness invaded me. An eerie shiver ran down my spine.

  Both boys looked at each other, then at me. “You know this has to come out, Sam,” Ryan said in a voice that held compassion but also determination.

  Yeah, a band-aid alone wouldn’t do any longer. Moaning, I rubbed my hands over my face. “I don’t even know where the hospital or doctor is in this town.”

  “The doc’s not on duty and it’s twenty miles to the next hospital,” Tony told me wryly.

  Ryan still had his hand on my calf as he fixed Tony with a contemplative gaze. “Take her to my dad?”

  Tony glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s five fifteen.”

  “It only takes a call. I’ll wake Liza and tell her we’re going.”

  “Let the girls sleep. I can take Sam to your house.”

  “Hey, stop it, both of you,” I interrupted them. “I’m not going to have an animal doctor cut something out of my leg.”

  Ryan squeezed my calf a little tighter and gave me an encouraging look. “I promise you he won’t cut anything. But it needs some sterile tools to get this out. I would hate to peel this out with just my fingers. However,” he drawled, placed his thumbs on the outer edges of my wound, and pulled it slightly apart, “if you prefer that, I can—”

  “No-ho!” I cut him off and shoved his hands away.

  His smirk revealed that he’d never intended to get the splinter out with his bare hands anyway.

  I sighed. “All right. I’ll go see your dad.”

  “Good.” Ryan nodded and punched a button on his phone. Probably his parents on speed dial. “Hey, Dad,” he said after what seemed an eternity. “My friend hurt herself last night, and now there’s a piece of wood stuck in her shin. Can you take a look at her?” He paused a second. “No, not Liza. Her name’s Sam. Tony will be home with her in twenty minutes.” He nodded at Tony, who got to his feet and pulled me up, too.

  “Come on, Summers. Let’s get you patched up,” he said while Ryan finished his call.

  We headed back to the camp, where I slipped into my boots and Tony fetched his car keys from inside his tent. Two minutes later, we were on the way out of the wood, me limping and Tony casting me worried sideways glances.

  TONY

  “Weird day, yesterday, huh?” I said in a low voice as I walked the bungee through the wood toward my car. I just had to say something. She was too silent, and it made me feel uncomfortable.

  Sam tilted her head, arching one eyebrow.

  I slowed down a little, because she was limping badly with her injured leg and I didn’t want to give her any more trouble. “First I made you cry, then I rescued you from the river…”

  At that she laughed out loud. “You didn’t rescue me! I was sitting in water that barely reached my chest.”

  “Yeah, but you’re tiny,” I taunted her, feeling strangely attracted to the sound of her laughter. “The current could have easily swept you away.”

  “Shut up, you!” She swatted my arm and pulled a face at me, but a quick smile tugged at her lips. Did that make us friends?

  I decided that I didn’t care for another Summers in the friends’ zone and tamped down at the stupid happiness in my chest that had started to grow since I had seen her first this morning.

  Three conifers farther down the path, Sam cleared her throat. “Tony, can I ask you something?”

  I liked that she called me Tony instead of Anthony, but at the same time I wondered if it had been a mistake to tell her to do so. It meant I’d already let her into the friends’ zone, and to shove her out again was going to be a hard job. “What’s up?”

  “It certainly wasn’t just the knocked over glass that pissed you off. Will you tell me why you hated me from the start?”

  I sighed and deliberated how much of the truth I could tell her and still be safe. None, I eventually decided, so the only thing she got out of me was a tight smile. “No.”

  “Must be something terrible if it made you turn me into a witch,” she muttered.

  You have no idea what else I turned you into. “Don’t look so frustrated, bungee. Too much info just gives you a headache.”

  “Bungee?”

  I stiffened. “What?”

  “You just called me bungee.” Her eyes narrowed as she stopped and folded her arms over her chest. “What is that? A new insult?”

  My breath turned to ice in my lungs. I couldn’t really have called her that. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “And here I thought we were past all that crap,” she grumbled and limped on, leaving me behind. “My bad.”

  I caught up with her and growled, “It wasn’t an insult, Summers.” Pulling the hood of my sweater—which Sam still wore and which looked annoyingly hot on her—up and over her eyes, I gave her a playful shove. Not a hard one, just a gentle push, but she stumbled anyway and whined.

  “Oh shit!” I reached out for her arm to steady her.

  Soft laugher disrupted her whining. What—she fucked with me? That little troll! Oh well, I probably deserved that for everything I’d done to her. Most of all for making her cry. But still. I pulled her closer to my side with a firm grip on her upper arm and snarled a threat in her ear. “I should dump you in that brook again, wench.”

  “Have more clothes to share?” she asked, her tone teasingly sweet.

  I couldn’t stop myself imagining her in my white muscle shirt instead of that sweater and with baggy pa
nts on. Shaking the riveting thought out of my mind by shaking my head, I let go of her arm.

  CHAPTER 9

  He was so weird.

  I climbed into Tony’s dark red Toyota, still not sure what to make of this strange morning and our even stranger conversation. Were we about to become friends? Tony could be seriously cute when he wanted to. Took him quite some time to show me what a nice smile he actually had.

  But I wasn’t sure if that was enough to make up for all the shit he’d given me this week.

  Anyway, I didn’t want to think about that now. First, I needed to get rid of that nasty little piece of wood in my shin. It hurt like hell and it looked even worse. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to extinguish one sort of pain with another. It didn’t work.

  Tony had been quiet for most of the walk through the wood and was still now while he drove us to Ryan’s place. I wished he’d say something. Talk to me, to distract me from my aching leg. He could even call me all sorts of tiny right now, if only he wouldn’t be so closed off again.

  From the rearview mirror hung a short chain and on it dangled a picture in a plastic frame. I reached out to hold it still and take a closer look. It was of a happy couple with a much younger edition of Tony Mitchell in their middle.

  “You must be quite the family guy to have this in your car,” I said, just fishing for a conversation starter.

  “It’s not my car, it’s my mom’s,” he answered as I let go of the small frame. “I hope to get my own car before Christmas. That’s why I’m bussing tables at Charlie’s.” There was a cold note to his voice as he cut a quick glance at me.

  I wondered if he expected me to slag off his job. Cloey would probably do it. I wasn’t going to. “That’s really cool of you to work for your car. Not many students would do that.” Definitely not my cousin.

  “I don’t have a choice in it. My parents won’t give me presents as huge as a vehicle.” He snorted, and there was a small hint of frustration in it. Then a grin followed. “But they will double whatever I make, so I guess I could be much worse off.”

  “Yeah, you could be,” I seconded, giving him a wry smile when he looked at me briefly before he took a left turn into a very familiar road. “For instance, if you had to rely on your weird cousin to lend you hers.”

  Tony chuckled at that. I was sure if one person in the world knew what I meant, it was him. “You don’t get along with her?” he wanted to know as he drove up the road that led to Cloey’s house.

  “We used to get along really well in the past. But something seems to have changed. And it’s not me.” I shifted in the seat, a little uncomfortable. “Anyways, why are you driving me home? I thought we were going to see Ryan’s dad.” Scaring Pamela out of her bed at six in the morning didn’t seem like a good idea to me.

  “We are. Hunter lives not far from your family. Just a few streets up.”

  Oh.

  When we passed my aunt’s house, I felt the urge to scoot lower in the seat while throwing a tentative glance out the window and up to the second floor where Cloey’s room was.

  “Whatever are you doing down there?”

  I lifted my head to Tony’s confused voice and only then realized just how deep into the seat I’d moved. I straightened, clearing my throat. “Um, nothing.”

  He laughed at me. “Bullshit. You’re hiding! Why?”

  I cut one last glance over my shoulder. When we were well out of sight of Cloey’s window, I relaxed. “That’s too weird to tell.”

  “Random guess…she doesn’t like you hanging out with us guys,” he said, then added as an afterthought, “Or with me in particular.”

  I gaped at him because I didn’t know what to read in his amused voice.

  “So, she’s been nicer in the past?” Tony asked me after a few seconds of silence. “I would have liked to get to know that personality of hers.”

  “That ship has sailed,” I grunted. And then I was wondering if they would still be together if they had met sooner, when Cloey had still been Cloey and not the Barbie Clone.

  Tony surprised me when he asked, “What’s so funny?”

  “Hmm? What?”

  “You’re suddenly grinning. Why?”

  Oh. I hadn’t realized I was. “Just something that Simone—or Liza—recently called my cousin.”

  Tony turned his head to me and lifted one eyebrow together with the corners of his mouth. “Barbie Clone?”

  “You know about that?”

  “Of course. Liza gave me shit because of her a little while ago. It was her favorite term when she spoke about Cloey.”

  Since Tony seemed open for conversation right now, I thought it was a good moment to test my luck some more. “You were a couple…you and Cloey?”

  His face immediately hardened. But he granted me an answer…after an uncomfortably long minute of thinking. “Not a couple. But we’ve dated.”

  “It must have been some intense dating. My aunt still remembers you.” I rolled my eyes. “She said you were such a sweet boy.” Shit, could I never stop my damn mouth from getting me into trouble? And of course I would get the bill for it just a moment later.

  “You talked to your aunt about me?”

  At his surprised tone, I lowered my chin and gazed at my knotted fingers. “Um, yeah. I told her what a jerk you actually were.”

  Heartfelt laughter filled the inside of the car. “All right. I can see that.” Tony stopped the car in front of an impressive mansion and cut the engine. “Get out. We’re here.”

  I ogled the front of Hunter’s house through the windshield. Wow. And I had thought my uncle’s house was huge. But this…one could only hope to get a map for the inside when entering.

  The car door opened and tore me out of my stunned gazing.

  “Need an extra invitation, Summers?”

  I looked up at Tony’s face, grinned, and climbed out. As I put weight on my injured leg, I was reminded of the biting pain and I limped after Tony. We didn’t have to ring the bell because the door opened as we walked up the steps.

  A woman with warm brown eyes just like Ryan’s smiled at us. Her hair was fair like that of an angel, but she was unmistakably his mother. “Tony, dear, where have you been all this time? I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she exclaimed and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I have a job now, Jessie.” He beamed at her, squaring his shoulders like a confident preschooler. It made me giggle.

  “I heard of that. Ryan told me, and I met your mother the other day. She’s very proud of you.” Mrs. Hunter cupped Tony’s cheek briefly with her hand, then she released him and turned to me, extending both her hands to grab mine. “And you must be Samantha. I’m Jezebel. Come in, dear. My husband is already in his practice, awaiting you.”

  I hardly had time to say hello before she dragged me inside, into a warm and cozy home that I would have never expected from the outside. Tony led the way past a long set of winding stairs, farther into the back of the house. I hurried—limping—after him, so as not to lose him in a place as big as a funfair.

  Through a wide door we entered a different part of the house that smelled strongly of cat food and disinfectant. It was painted in clean white, the floor tiles were off white, too, and the many spots on the ceiling cast a way-too-bright light for six o’clock in the morning. We walked through two more rooms, one lined with all sizes of boxes and carriers, where cats and dogs slept the morning away, and another room resembling a sterile kitchen. Bandages, syringes, and tubes filled many cabinets and chests.

  Behind the next door, we were greeted by a tall man whose black hair had already started to gray at the temples but who otherwise was a perfect Ryan Hunter replica—give or take a few wrinkles around his eyes and glasses.

  “Tony,” he said, shaking Tony’s hand.

  “Good morning, James. This is my friend, Sam.” Tony nodded at me. “She was a little clumsy last night.”

  I knew this was the wrong moment to dwell on it, but did he really just
call me a friend? At my puzzled look, Tony narrowed his eyes at me as though he knew exactly what was on my mind right now and tested the term for himself. Eventually, he shrugged it off and let Mr. Hunter step forward to shake my hand.

  “Hello, Sam, I’m James Hunter. Ryan said there’s a piece of wood in your wound. Come over here and let me take a look.” He ushered me over to make myself comfortable on some sort of cold metal table in the middle of the room that was clearly for animals and not for people.

  I guessed it was fine to just sit and not lay back.

  Taking off my boot and rolling up my pant leg, I was getting really uneasy. Not because of the fact that a vet was inspecting my leg, but because of the nasty silver scalpel in his hand as he did.

  “Do you think I need stitches, sir?” I asked him, frowning at my leg.

  “Hmm.” He grabbed a pair of latex gloves from his coffee-brown desk, which dominated one half of the room, put them on, and tested the little splinter with his index finger.

  I scrunched up my face, biting my bottom lip to strangle a whine in my throat at the immediate pain.

  “Probably no stitches, Sam, but it’s going to hurt a little when I work this fragment out.” Mr. Hunter quirked his brows at me. “I’m not authorized to give you a local anesthesia. So if you’d rather have this done by a specialist, I can give Doctor Decker a call and send Tony over to Pismo Beach with you.”

  I didn’t know where that place was and I’d rather not wait any longer to get the splinter out. It already hurt like hell; it couldn’t hurt much worse to have it removed. “No, please do it.”

  He nodded and moved to get a few things: a big plastic syringe filled with clear liquid, some pads, a pair of tweezers, and a bandage. While he was placing all these things next to me on the metal cot, Tony bent forward to inspect my weeping wound.

  “Wicked…” His face screwed up with disgusted awe, but when he looked up and found me watching him with growing horror, he quickly put on an encouraging—however faked—grin. “It sure it isn’t that bad.”