I'm So Sure (2009)

by Jenny B. Jones

  Manny chews on a toothpick. “Do you want your job back by chance?”

  Let me think about this. “No.”

  “Look, two kids just quit, and I’m in deep trouble with spring break coming on. You could just work that week for me and then see how it goes.”

  Well, gee, at one point I had plans to go to Manhattan, but . . . “I could be persuaded.”

  He smiles, his gold caps gleaming. “I’ll up your hourly wage by a dollar.”

  Not bad, but I have a car to fix now. “Can I have a two hundred– dollar advance?”

  His eyes pop. “What?”

  “I’ll mention Pancho’s in my next newspaper article.”

  “It’s a deal. But I’m hiding the refried bean shooter.”

  “It’s probably for the best.”

  When Budge pulls the car into our driveway, we’re singing three-part screamo harmony. Life is pretty good, and Robbie is back to being Robbie.

  “I’m off to watch a documentary on the Japanese dung beetle.” He skips into the yard, a red cape fluttering behind him.

  My phone vibrates in my purse, and I scrounge for it. “Hey, Luke.”

  “How fast can you get back to school?”

  “Five minutes. What’s up?”

  “Meet me in the school office. And bring Budge with you.” The line goes dead.

  “Budge, can you take me back to school?”

  He rubs a smudge on the hearse. “No way, freak job.”

  Yes, we are definitely back to normal. “Two words: Hannah. Montana.”

  “Let’s roll.”

  The twin doors leading into the high school are open, and we walk on through straight to the office.

  “Hello?” I call.

  “Back here.” Luke steps out from the secretary’s office. “We have a new development.”

  Mrs. Norwood sits behind her desk, her face illuminated by the computer screen. “Yes, the grades have definitely been altered. But just for those four.”

  Luke looks from me to Budge. “This afternoon someone got on the school server and changed some grades. Felicity, Anna, and Ruthie all suddenly had one F each.”

  “And the fourth person?” I ask.

  The secretary taps a few keys. “Let’s just say Joshua Day went from academic distress straight to the honor roll.”

  Budge nods his head. “Niiice.”

  “Does the grading program tell you what time the grades were changed?” I step over to the computer. Mrs. Norwood’s Avon perfume overrides any chances of my sniffing Luke. Plus I think it’s killing some of my brain cells.

  “Yes.” She pulls up another screen. “This person would have to have special access—like administrative codes—to change these grades. Even a teacher’s password wouldn’t allow for editing a student’s grades in all classes.”

  “What do you need from me?” Budge asks, primed to dig into high-security files.

  “All of our tech crew are at a conference.” Mrs. Norwood chews on her lip. “I guess I can let you into the grade program. Budge, I need you to tell me who was logged on between one and one thirty.”

  Luke and I take a seat on the floor. My back rests against the wall in the small office.

  “Thanks for calling me.” I twirl Budge’s car keys in my hand. “I’m glad you didn’t leave me out of the fun.”

  “I think we’re about to solve another one.” He holds up his hand, and I slap mine to it. “Bella, did I mention Taylor and I broke up?”

  A giddy thrill spirals through my body. “When?”

  “Christmas.”

  The thrill swan-dives. “As in December?”

  “We’re still friends.”

  “But we’re friends too. So why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just—”

  “We got it!” Budge yells. “Take a look. Check out this list of people who were logged on,” Budge says as we gather around him. He reads off a list of twenty names. All teachers. But two secretaries. And one student.

  I stare at the name. “Joshua Day.”

  chapter thirty-two

  On Friday morning the parking lot is crackling with spring break energy. Somehow I didn’t wake up with it. Maybe it’s because my dad dumped me for his Brazilian sugar, and I’m going to be spending every day working in a restaurant known for producing greasy tacos and deadly farts.

  Walking up the steps to the school, Mark Rogers, my friend from the Truman police department, intercepts me.

  “Hey, Bella.”

  Behind him two other men in uniform escort Joshua Day, his hands behind his back. “But I didn’t do anything! I have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m innocent!” Callie runs along behind him, crying as he’s stuffed into a squad car.

  “You and Luke Sullivan did a great job investigating this case, you know.” Mark watches the car drive away. I can hardly hear him over the gathering crowd. “But next time, leave it to the professionals.”

  “Anything for a prom queen.” I scan the parking lot for Luke.

  “I’ll keep you posted.” Mark pats my shoulder and ambles away. A local news reporter follows him. As does a camera guy for Pile Driver of Dreams.

  I spy Luke talking to Anna, Ruthie, and the gang. Lindy stands awkwardly between Newton and Matt. Luke catches my eye and smiles.

  “The Sullivan-Kirkwood team do it again.” Anna hugs me to her as I join them.

  “And Budge,” I add and wave him over.

  “My prom date’s a smartie.” Ruthie high-fives my blushing stepbrother. “Like the smartest computer geek on the planet.”

  Budge shuffles his feet. “Not the smartest. That’s Newt.”

  “So my prom date is the smartest computer geek on the planet.” Lindy laughs, but sobers when she sees Newt’s face. “I meant smartest person. You’re totally not a geek.”

  Newton’s left eye twitches.

  “Ugh, thank goodness they apprehended him.” Felicity joins our circle. “That Joshua was a menace to society. But now we can all go to prom safely.”

  “Hi, Felicity.” Newt brushes the long hair out of his eyes. “You didn’t show up for physics tutoring this morning.”

  Felicity flips her blonde hair and looks at Newton like he’s a Payless clearance shoe. “I was busy. I have a lot of prom details to attend to now that it’s at my house.”

  “You could’ve called,” he says.

  “Newt, unlike you, I don’t have a lot of free time. I’m kind of dealing with some important things right now that someone like you wouldn’t have a clue about. I’m sorry if you cut your stupid gaming schedule short to meet me.”

  Newt’s face is redder than my patent leather bag.

  “Do you have a date?”

  Felicity laughs at Ruthie’s question. “Well, of course I do. My new boyfriend goes to OSU. His daddy’s the district attorney in Oklahoma City.”

  I look at Luke and cross my eyes. Seriously, I was never like Felicity. Right?

  “I must run off, but don’t forget today’s the last day the voting results for prom queen will be up on the class Web site. Cast your votes!” Felicity walks away, waving over her shoulder. “Tah-tah!”

  “That girl . . .” Anna seethes. “She’s totally bought the crown with daddy’s money. She’s so far ahead, it won’t matter how many votes I get between now and prom. Everything she does just makes her votes quadruple. Last week I gave out pencils. No change in the poll. Yesterday I passed out cookies to everyone—all for nothing.”

  Ruthie nods. “I’ve been campaigning too. Wednesday I told a girl I hated her shirt.”

  I frown. “What was that supposed to accomplish?”

  “Nothing. But it made me feel better.”

  The first bell rings, and we gradually migrate inside to the lockers. The halls buzz with the news of Joshua’s arrest.

  Luke stops at my locker. “Are you okay?”

  With the news that he’s been single for months? “Yeah, why?”

  He examines my face. “I do
n’t know. You just seem down. I mean, we just cracked another major case and you weren’t even that excited.”

  “I have to stay here for spring break. I guess I’m just bummed.” And I’ll be smelling like tacos all week.

  “I’m sorry.” He leans on the locker beside mine. “I know you were looking forward to seeing Hunter.”

  I nearly drop my book. “Hunter? No, I wanted to spend the week with my dad. We had plans.” I shut the door, absorbed in one single thought: I hadn’t even thought about not seeing Hunter. Not only was I not sad about it, but when dad cancelled, Hunter never even crossed my mind.

  “Bella?”

  “Huh?” I realize he’s been talking.

  “I asked you if you wanted to get together over break and work on our Pile Driver of Dreams articles.”

  Get together? I stare into his blue eyes. What does that mean? “Um . . . uh . . .”

  Luke pushes off with his foot. “It’s okay if you don’t want to work on break. Not everyone does.” He smiles and pats my shoulder. Like Mark Rogers did. Yet different. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Shoot! Did I just mess up? What if he was asking me out? And all I could say was uh. But no. He said it was to work. And this is Luke. The guy keeps his nose to the grindstone. Whatever that means. Why would anyone ever want to put her nose to a grindstone?

  After school Budge chauffeurs me, Robbie, and Newt. We drop his friend off first.

  “Dude, what is that?” Budge puts the hearse in park and bails out. There in front of Newt’s garage is a tricked out Honda Civic. “Check out those rims!” Budge runs his hand over the purple paint-job. “Where’d you get this?”

  Robbie and I get out and inspect the car.

  “Online.” Newt smiles with the kind of satisfaction that only comes from having some wheels. “Can’t drive it until I get it licensed.”

  Budge gets behind the wheel. “Where’d you get the Benjamins?”

  “Tutoring.” Newt points out something on the stereo.

  “Tutoring paid for this?” I ask. “That’s gotta be better than wearing a sombrero.”

  Budge snorts. “Or getting attacked by a pad machine.”

  “Nobody asked you.”

  “Or diving nose first into a wheelbarrow of horse poop.”

  “Newt, have you ever heard of Hannah Mon—”

  “I’m shutting up now.”

  On our way home, we pass Jake running on the dirt road. A camera crew rides in front of him in a truck bed.

  “Dad’s really ramped up the training lately.” Budge wheels the hearse into the yard.

  “I heard him lifting weights at three thirty this morning.” Which qualifies as crazy in my book.

  Later in my room, I lie sprawled on my bed with Moxie on my stomach. I pick up my phone for the millionth time. No call from Mia. No text. I’ve forgiven her! She should be sobbing with gratitude.

  God, I am so down. Luke’s totally thrown me for a loop. Did he not want me to know he’d broken up with Taylor so I wouldn’t pursue him? And Hunter’s . . . complicated. And Dad totally dumped me. I should be on my way to New York right now. I should be getting ready for shopping, Broadway, and guilting my dad into buying me something. Instead, I’m stuck at home all week working for Manny “Tacos Make the World Go Round” Labowskie.

  Knock. Knock.

  “Bella?” My mom pokes her head in my room. “Will you come downstairs?”

  I roll onto my back and sigh heavily. “Do I have to?”

  “I think you want to.”

  As soon as I hit the kitchen, a guy with a camera jumps out. “Oh!” I yelp. “You little—” Just a few more weeks of this. I compose myself and find a smile. “You little booger.” I wag my finger. “You scared me.” I turn around and roll my eyes all the way outside.

  Following the sound of my mom’s voice, I walk into the backyard. Where Jake sits in my Bug. My beautiful running green Bug! The engine purrs like a happy cat.

  Clapping my hands in glee, I jump into the passenger side. “Oh, car! I’ve missed you! But who fixed it?”

  “Jake did.” Mom holds out my door. “Well, he paid to have it fixed.”

  I turn to my stepdad. “You did that? For me?”

  He shrugs a meaty shoulder, making his neck almost disappear. “It was nothing.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the camera guy move to get a better angle. “Oh. You did it because of the show.” I swallow back a lump of sadness. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m grateful. Thanks.” I kiss him on the cheek and go back inside.

  “Hey.”

  I lift my head out of the fridge to see Jake. “Yeah?”

  “I wanted to ask you—” He turns on the camera guy. “Could you give us a moment?”

  The guy shakes his head. “No way. This is good stuff. Ought to get you a ton of votes.”

  “I said, please go away.” Jake draws himself up to his full height. “Now.”

  The camera guy skitters out.

  “Bella, I didn’t get your car fixed to make myself look good for the show.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No way.”

  “Then you got it fixed so I wouldn’t have to endure anymore screamo in Budge’s car, lose my mind, and possibly hurt innocent people?”

  His mouth curls into a grin. “Exactly.”

  “Thanks. Um . . . I’ll pay you back.”

  “I know you could, but this one’s on the house. I would’ve gotten it fixed sooner, but your mom wouldn’t let me.”

  “Isn’t she sweet,” I deadpan.

  “Thanks for saving Robbie—with those bullies. I should’ve been more on top of it. I never should’ve believed him when he said no one was picking on him.”

  “It’s okay. That’s what big sisters are for, right?”

  “I have something else for you.” Jake reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out an envelope. “I know you’re upset that you’re not going to be spending time with your dad and doing all your usual Broadway stops.”

  I put on a brave face. “Oh, who needs to see Wicked again? After thirty-seven times, I guess I’ve got the plot by now.”

  He hands me the envelope. “Open it.”

  I peel it open. “Two tickets for the Tulsa Performing Arts Center?” I read the print. “Wicked?”

  “I was hoping for time number thirty-eight, you’d see it with me. Just you and me—no cameras, I promise.”

  Tears prick the back of my eyes.

  “I know it’s not New York. And we won’t eat anywhere fancy. Probably just grab a burger at—oomph!”

  I wrap my arms around this giant of a man. “Thank you! Thank you!”

  I blink back the wetness. I do not cry. Ever.

  Sniff.

  Well.

  Maybe for Wicked.

  chapter thirty-three

  The alarm on my phone chirps right into my dream just as I’m diving into a sea of Versace dresses. I struggle to stay there as lifeguard Zac Efron waves to me from the shore, but the incessant beeping won’t go away. I’m forced to open my eyes.

  Monday morning. How is it a school week is so much longer than a vacation week? Though the play in Tulsa with Jake was amazing, the rest of the break was just one burrito after another.

  Moxie mewls and covers her eyes with a paw. At least somebody gets to sleep in.

  Sitting up, I flick on my lamp and grab my Bible. I pull the ribbon bookmark and open to where I left off yesterday. When I finish, I get out my prayer journal and write a quick letter to God.

  “Bella?” My mom taps on my door twenty minutes later. “You awake?”

  I put the cap on my pen. “Barely.”

  “I’m taking Jake to the airport, so you need to make sure Robbie gets ready for school. Don’t let him pick out his own socks.”

  I slide off the bed, grab my robe, and follow her downstairs. Everyone is gathered at the kitchen table.

  Last week Jake received word that he had an appearance on Regis an
d Kelly in New York City. I wish I could go with him. I lived there all my life and never went to the show.

  Jake cuts a banana for his youngest. “Now Robbie, if anyone gives you a second’s worth of trouble, you go straight to the office and have them call me or Jillian. No more secrets, got it?”

  Robbie nods his head, his eyes all for the Cheerios in his bowl.

  “I’ll see you guys in Vegas Thursday.” Jake kisses his son on his head, then fist bumps Budge. “This house better still be standing when I get back.” He pats my back then heads for the Tahoe with my mom.

  At school everyone is just as lethargic as I am.

  “Hey, Bella.” Lindy intercepts me after English class. “Any word on Joshua Day?”

  “Not yet. I’m hoping Luke’s heard something,” I say. “Is Matt still giving you the cold shoulder?”

  She frowns. “He didn’t call me once on spring break.”

  “Maybe his raging jealousy has rendered him mute.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Nice try.”

  I hustle down the hallway and into journalism. The class is empty except for one. Luke sits in the chair next to my workstation. A smile crawls up my cheeks, and I’m helpless to stop it. His expression says he’s happy to see me, and my stomach wobbles like Nickelodeon slime.

  “Mr. Holman wants us to cowrite an article about what led us to Joshua Day.”

  I set my stuff down. “Good morning to you too.”

  “If it’s good enough, the Tulsa World is interested.”

  I raise my head. “Seriously?”

  He nods his dark head. “For real.”

  I squeal and launch myself into his arms. “Omigosh! That’s amazing!” His arms wrap around me just as I realize what I’ve done. I step back as if I’ve touched lightning. “Sorry.” I clear my throat. “Um . . . you can let go of my hand now.”

  But he keeps it. “Do you realize what a big deal this could be?”

  “You holding my hand?”

  His grin is slow. “The paper.” He brushes his thumb over my skin then releases me.

  I struggle to remain neutral. Unaffected.

  “We have to make sure we have every fact straight, so we need to put our heads together and map out the story.” He pulls out my chair and motions for me to sit.

  “So what’s the latest on Joshua?”