Cipher c-1

by Cindi Madsen

  Troy’s eyebrows scrunched together, the corners of his mouth tilting down. “You think I’m a drug dealer?”

  “No. Yes. Well, I don’t know. I mean, how would I know? You’re always leaving mid-convo, in a hurry to get somewhere; you’ve managed to make friends with everyone; you carry sunglasses around—I was thinking you must carry them to hide the signs. It all kind of fits.”

  “Ouch. I thought you knew me better than that.” He studied her for a moment and let out a long exhale. “I’m friends with everyone because I’m so charming.” He grinned to prove the point. “The dark glasses are because it’s sunny here in California. And as for where I’m always running off to…” He held out his hand. “Come on then. I guess it’s time to show you what I’ve been doing in my spare time.”

  Summer slipped her hand into his, her heart fluttering when he automatically curled his fingers around it. He led her across the school grounds to the far back corner, where she’d had her crying break down a little over a week ago. He pushed open the door to the band room and walked in. Motes of dust floated in the beam of light from the doorway, the air stale because the room didn’t have near enough windows.

  “Mrs. Wilkes lets me practice during lunch and after school,” Troy said.

  Practice?

  Troy released her hand and moved to the lockers lining the wall. He retrieved a pair of drumsticks and sat down behind the drums. He sucked in a big breath, and then the sticks in his hands were moving across the surface, pounding out a rhythm. She moved closer as he played, feeling the beat vibrate across her skin. His eyes followed the quick movements, his brow wrinkled in concentration, and one corner of his mouth twitched up in an adorable half smile that changed with the beat. At the end of the song, he made a big booming finish, complete with tossing a stick in the air and catching it and an obligatory cymbal crash.

  Troy grabbed the cymbal to silence it and shot her a devastatingly cute grin. “So, there you go. I play the drums.”

  Summer ran her finger along the edge of the cymbal. “And why is this a big secret?”

  “It’s not so much a secret as…Well, you know my mom would be horrified. She already hates that I’m always going to listen to bands play all the time—that I’m as into music as my dad was. At first I was just messing around. I tried the guitar first—not for me. But then I grabbed a pair of drumsticks, and from the first time I played, I was hooked. I’m not going to leave the people I love to do it, but I can see how easy it would be to get caught up in it.”

  Summer placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a teenager in high school. You don’t have a family to take care of. It’s okay to pursue your dream.”

  “I don’t think that’s what my mom will say.” He stared across the room for a moment, a million miles away. Then his eyes focused and he turned his attention back to the drums. “Okay, tell me what you think about this one I’ve been working on…” He banged out another rhythm, glancing over at her now and then as he played. Any second she’d turn into a puddle of a girl on the floor—as if he wasn’t hard enough to resist before he got behind a set of drums.

  “Imagine it with some guitar mixed in, and you’ve got a song.”

  Summer grinned at him. “You’re making magic.”

  He titled his head. “Magic?”

  “Music can transport you to another time with a couple of notes. It makes you feel the heartbreak or the love, right along with the singer. The right song speaks to your soul in a way nothing else can. It’s magic,” she whispered. Heat crept into her cheeks. She’d always believed that about music, but even in all her gush sessions with Troy, she’d never vocalized it like that.

  Luckily, he nodded, a huge smile stretched on his perfect lips. “I couldn’t have put it better myself, Sunshine.”

  Summer held out her hands. “Okay, hand over your sticks. I’ve always thought I should dye my hair hot pink and join a band. I probably should learn an instrument because I know I’ll never be a vocalist.”

  Troy gave her the drumsticks and moved to the side.

  Summer sat down and banged on the drums, thinking anything she did would sound at least semi-awesome. Instead, it sounded like a mess. “Hmm, it’s harder than it looks. That was pretty awful.”

  “Hit it lighter. Hold the sticks loose, like this…” Troy slid behind her and put his arms around her to demonstrate how to hold the drumsticks.

  Suddenly, she could care less about the drums. Their bodies were touching almost everywhere, his thighs pressed against the outside of hers, his chest against her back. She felt it rise and fall with his breaths, felt the exhale fall from his lips and stir her hair.

  “Now hit this like…” Troy guided her hand, using it to tap the snare. His lips brushed her cheek when he spoke, sending a pleasant chill down her spine. “See, that sounds better. Try it out.”

  Using her wrist to flick the drumstick, she repeated the hit. “Like that?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder to look at Troy. Only a few inches separated their lips. Her heart thumped once. Twice. Before she overthought and blew the moment, she decided to go for it. She closed the gap and pressed her mouth to his. Both sticks clattered to the ground as she twisted toward him. His hand slid behind her neck, pulling her closer. Heat coiled through her body as she parted her lips and deepened the kiss. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, running it across her top lip.

  Someone pushed against the door, the sound echoing off the walls.

  Summer jumped up as people burst into the room. She was so dizzy from the kiss that she had to steady herself on a nearby chair. It took a couple of seconds for her brain to kick into gear. If people are coming in for class… She looked at the clock on the wall and saw she only had a few minutes to make it all the way to the other side of the school.

  “Crap, I’ve got to get to my next class.” She glanced at Troy, who was staring up at her, a stunned look on his face. “I’ll, um, see you later.”

  She rushed down the steps, pushed past a few stunned-looking freshmen trying to get into the room, and sprinted all the way to her next class. Mrs. Crawford was closing the door as Summer slipped inside. She fell into her desk, gasping for air. She didn’t have any of her materials, but she didn’t care.

  I kissed Troy. She lifted her hand to her still-tingling lips and smiled. And he totally kissed me back.

  * * *

  All practice, the girls’ barbed remarks didn’t get to Summer. The insults simply bounced off her. Troy saturated her thoughts, blurring all her other problems. Her gut wouldn’t let her forget she needed to make things right with Ashlyn, though—she planned on calling her the second she got done with practice. Make that when she got home. Driving and talking on your cell could get you pulled over.

  As soon as practice let out, Summer walked outside, already formulating her apology to Ashlyn. When she saw Troy’s Jeep in the parking lot, her stomach got all fluttery, and her lips burned again with the memory of that kiss in the band room today. She pulled out her phone, thinking she’d call and see if he was almost done practicing his drums. Maybe even see if he’d like to give her another lesson.

  Then she saw Troy.

  And the volleyball player.

  Summer’s heart dropped as she watched them talking and flirting. I’m such an idiot. Like he’s going to give up all his other girls for me. She couldn’t watch anymore, so she hid between the buildings. There was no way she was going to walk past the two of them right now. She was the girl he was around all the time—the one who talked to him about you know. It made Summer feel like an even bigger idiot for thinking they’d shared something more than a kiss today.

  She pulled out her phone and dialed Ashlyn’s number. She swore when she got the voicemail. “Ashlyn, please pick up. I really need to talk to you. I’m sorry about everything, and I really need to hear your voice. Please call me back.”

  Summer peeked around the corner. Troy opened the passenger-side door for the amazon-volleyball-player girl. He pul
led out his phone as he walked around the Jeep. Summer’s phone rang, vibrating in her pocket. Eager to talk to Ashlyn, she dug it out.

  Ashlyn’s name didn’t show up, though. Troy’s did. He’s calling me while he’s practically on a date? Maybe he wanted to tell her today was a mistake—try to sugarcoat his we’ll-just-be-friends spiel. Or maybe he wanted to keep her on the back burner with the rest of his girls. Either way, she couldn’t talk to him now. In fact, she felt like she’d never be able to talk to him again.

  He climbed inside his Jeep and drove away, his and Cara’s outlines visible for a moment before they disappeared into the evening to do whatever they were going to do. Summer tried the text message approach with Ashlyn.

  Ash, please call me. Need to talk. Today sucked without you.

  She slowly made her way to the Civic, hoping it’d give Ashlyn time to reply. She glanced in the direction the Jeep had disappeared. What was I thinking, kissing Troy? Of course he kissed her back. He was a guy. That was what they cared about. It didn’t mean they wanted a girlfriend or wouldn’t get what else they “needed” somewhere else. Now, she’d ruined things between them for good.

  And on top of that mess, Ashlyn wouldn’t even answer the phone or text her back.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  As sick as Summer had gotten of hearing about the pep rally all week and how important it was, nailing the dance routine in front of the school had given her that rush that made it worth the fight to keep performing. Bonus, Kendall had gotten permission for them to skip first period to practice the routine and help the cheerleaders set up, which had saved her from an awkward Troy encounter. That drama was going to have to wait. Today was about getting her friendship with Ashlyn back on track.

  As the students spilled out of the bleachers, Summer searched for Ashlyn’s face among the crowd.

  “You looked good out there,” Summer heard. She turned and saw Cody. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped closer. “Look, Summer, I’m sorry about how messed up everything’s gotten with us. I feel like an ass.”

  “Well, you’ve been an ass, so that seems appropriate,” she said. His face dropped, and she decided she should try to say something nice. After all, she’d had her jerk moments, too. “I guess we both made some mistakes.”

  He stood there, nodding, looking like he wanted to say more.

  Summer felt obligated to fill in the awkward silence. “So….good luck on the game tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. It’s gonna be a tough one, but don’t worry; we’ll come out on top. By the way, you guys looked great out there, getting your dance on. I’m sure you’ll do awesome at the State Competition.”

  For all the times she thought he was simply ignoring her when she talked about dancing, it appeared he actually knew how important it was to her. Maybe eventually, they could even be sorta friends. “Thanks, Cody.”

  Jenna walked up, snaked her arm around Cody’s waist, and glared at Summer. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to throw yourself at Cody.”

  Summer blinked, the accusation taking a moment to register. “We were just talking, so you can go ahead and take it down about twenty notches.”

  “It was no big deal,” Cody said. “Really.”

  Jenna stepped forward, shoving her face in Summer’s. “I don’t buy that innocent act. I’m not going to stand by and watch you try to steal my boyfriend.”

  “Oh, like you didn’t hit on him when I was out of town, back when he was still my boyfriend.”

  “Don’t blame me that you don’t know how to keep your man. You’re just jealous because it’s obvious how much more satisfied he is with me.”

  Summer clenched her teeth. “If you thought he was so satisfied, you wouldn’t feel the need to come over and go crazy on me for just talking to him.” Heat was rising through her body and her muscles were tensing. She shook her head. “You know what, you’re not worth it.”

  Jenna shoved her, sending her stumbling backward. Summer barely managed to keep her balance. Her mouth dropped and the thin strand of control she had on her temper started to fray. Cody was tugging at Jenna, obviously trying to get her to walk away, but she was yelling and pushing him, acting like she was going to come at Summer again. “Don’t defend her,” she yelled at Cody, fighting to get around him. “I want to settle this right here, right now.”

  “If I were you, I wouldn’t touch her again.” Ashlyn stepped up next to Summer and glared at Jenna.

  And just like that, Summer didn’t care about Jenna or the fact that she’d shoved her anymore. Ashlyn cared enough to defend her, and that was all that mattered. “It’s okay, Ash. Let’s just go.”

  “You think I’m scared of you because you’re twice my size.” Jenna pulled away from Cody. “Bring it on, fatty!”

  Thoughts fled; the thread snapped. Summer lunged at Jenna, planning on doing a lot more than shoving. Cody cut her off just before she could get her hands around the girl’s neck, keeping himself between them.

  “You think I’m scared of you?” Jenna shrieked. “You’re lucky Cody’s holding me back.”

  Ashlyn yelled something at Jenna that Summer couldn’t make out because she was trying to break away from Cody, Jenna yelled back, and Cody repeatedly suggested everyone calm down.

  “All of you, get to the office now!” Mrs. Crawford bellowed. She and another teacher pushed their way through the crowd that had gathered.

  Summer turned to Mrs. Crawford. “But she’s the one who—”

  “Not another word!” Mrs. Crawford jabbed a finger toward the exit. “To the office. Now!”

  Mrs. Crawford marched Summer, Ashlyn, and Jenna down the hall into the office. She pointed to one side of the room. “Jenna, you sit over there.” She turned to Ashlyn and Summer. “You two over there.” She told the secretary to make sure they stayed on their opposing sides before disappearing into the principal’s office.

  The anger that’d been pumping through Summer cooled a few notches. Okay, so maybe lunging at Jenna wasn’t the smartest move. She swore she’d never be one of those ghetto chicks who got into a fight at school, yet here she was, awaiting punishment.

  She glanced at Ashlyn. “Thanks for coming to my defense,” she whispered. “I know it’s only been a few days, but it seems like forever. I really missed you.”

  Ashlyn put her hands over her heart. “I missed you, too. I’m sorry I’ve been so dumb.”

  “I was dumb, too. You can make your own decisions. I just care about you.”

  “I know,” Ashlyn said, sounding like she might cry. “Let’s never fight again.” Her gaze flicked to Jenna. “With each other.”

  Jenna’s eyes widened, and Summer threw her hand to her mouth to cover her laughter.

  “I wonder how much trouble we’re in,” Summer said, trying to see through the office window—Mrs. Crawford had never liked her. Right now, the woman was probably painting Summer as the troublemaker, even though this was the first time she’d been at trouble in school. Besides the ripped pants thing.

  Ashlyn shrugged. “My mother will probably consider a fight exercise. Maybe she’ll come in and talk Mr. Strider out of punishing us.”

  Summer laughed again, and Ashlyn joined in.

  Mr. Strider walked out of his office, flanked by Mrs. Crawford. The intense glare the principal shot them put an abrupt stop to their laughter.

  * * *

  Dad paced back and forth in front of the couch. “What’s gotten into you lately? I thought you were getting better, then you lie to me, and now you’re fighting at school. It keeps getting worse and worse.”

  “She shoved me first, though,” Summer said. “And I would have let it go, but then she said something horrible to Ashlyn. I couldn’t walk away after that.”

  “While I understand that made you mad, it’s more than what happened today that has me worried. I know…” He ran a hand over his face and sighed. “I know you’ve got some unresolved issues with your mom’s death still. I thought you’d
pulled out of it, but now…Maybe you need to talk to someone. A professional who’d know how to help you better than I can.”

  Summer imagined how that would go. Yeah, I have issues because I see the Angel of Death on a regular basis. Oh, and I see people dying before they actually die. It’s also my fault that my mom’s dead. Basically, I’m obsessed with death. So what do you think about that?

  “Please, Dad, don’t make me talk to anyone. I just have a lot of stress right now.”

  Dad sat next to her. “You can tell me about it, you know. Give me something, because, honestly, I don’t know what to do with you anymore.”

  Summer shook her head, blinking back tears. Where would she even start? Gabriella? Her failure to make peace with Ashlyn and her mom? The recent revelation that she’d delayed Mom enough to get her killed?

  Dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head. “If your mom was here, she’d know what to do.”

  Her breath quickened, and then she just blurted it out. “It’s my fault. It’s my fault that Mom’s not here.”

  He slowly raised his head and looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Summer, don’t talk like that. You couldn’t have done anything about your mom.”

  “I could have, though! I knew something bad was going to happen, and I begged her to stay, but she went anyway. If I would’ve kept her home or let her go, everything would’ve happened differently.” Tears lodged in her throat. “Instead, I kept her just long enough to be in the store with that man. It’s my fault she’s dead.”

  Summer winced, waiting for him to storm out, or for him to yell and ask her why she did that. She deserved it.