Book Read Free

Confessions of a Heartbreaker

Page 9

by Sucevic, Jennifer

Her lips slide upwards. "Oh please, I'm not actually worried about this date-thing happening."

  "Don't have too much faith in your tutoring abilities, do you?"

  That wipes the smile right off her face. "I'm an excellent tutor."

  "Well, we'll just have to see about that after Wednesday's test, now won't we?" I grin in response.

  Her brows lower over darkening eyes. "I guess we will. This is kind of a lose-lose situation for me, now isn't it?"

  "Most girls wouldn't see it that way." Honestly, I can't think of one single girl on the planet who would see it that way. But I'll just keep that little nugget of information to myself for the time being. She already thinks I'm a conceited jackass. No reason to hammer that fact home any further.

  "I'm not one of those girls. And I'm never going to be one of those girls."

  I suddenly realize that I don't want Jordan to be one of those girls either. I like her just the way she is. I'm starting to suspect that I like her too damn much. She's changing things inside me and I'm not really sure if I'm ready for that to happen.

  Standing up, I grab her hands and pull her up until my body is wrapped protectively around hers. Damn but it feels so right to have her there. To feel her against me. To hold her close to me. For just a moment I search her wide green gaze wondering if she feels more than she's letting on. Is she drowning in me like I am in her?

  "So how does Friday night sound to you?"

  Apparently she's not feeling nearly as conflicted about me as I am about her because she answers without missing a beat, "Like you're overly confident as usual."

  As much as I would love to close the distance separating us, which by the way, isn't much. I don't. For now, just having her in my arms is enough. Enough till Friday night that is.

  "Let's get you home. I've got a test to study for. One I plan on acing."

  She snorts and I can't help but chuckle.

  Chapter Ten

  "Parker, please stop tapping your foot. It's very distracting." She pauses before adding, "You seem more fidgety than usual."

  Sara- I mean, Ms. Fisk, hovers over my desk as I quickly scan the test she just handed out to the class. Alright, in order for me to harness all my mental capabilities, I'm going to need this woman to back up and stop crowding me. Strenuous thinking of this magnitude requires a lot of extra elbow room. FYI- if you happen to catch a whiff of something that smells suspiciously like burnt toast- don't worry, that's just me doing a little something I like to call- concentrating.

  "I've got a lot riding on this test," I mutter in response. Because this is, after all, no ordinary English Lit test on Odysseus- this here is a golden ticket to my date with Jordan. And trust me, I've left absolutely nothing to chance. I've been studying my ass off now for two days. That's two whole days more than usual.

  "Oh? Do tell."

  Skimming over the first ten questions, I'm pleasantly surprised to realize that I know a lot of this stuff. I want to laugh evilly and rub my hands together but I won't. Not yet anyway. I don't want to get too cocky, too soon. God only knows what devious tricks Ms. Fisk has waiting for us on page two. So, I'll just contain myself for the time being and play it cool. You know, like I usually do.

  "We're talking high stakes, Ms. Fisk," I reply somewhat distractedly.

  "Hmmm, why does that answer frighten me?"

  I can't resist glancing up at her with a wry grin. Damn, but this woman knows me all too well. Which is actually kind of scary now that I think about it.

  Before I can utter a word, she says, "Don't answer that- for legal reasons and ramifications, I think I'm better off not knowing."

  It's on the tip of my tongue to say- damn straight but I bite it back.

  Glancing at the clock, I realize that I have forty-five minutes to crack out a 95% or better. My eyes slide back to the first page. About five minutes into it, the smile falls abruptly from my lips because questions 15-17 are ones that I'm not sure about. I'll have to come back to those at the end.

  Rolling my head from side to side, I take a deep breath. If I could stand up and bounce on the tips of my toes as I swing my arms back and forth to loosen my muscles like I do right before a football game, I would. But somehow I think Ms. Fisk might view that behavior as physically threatening. So I don't. The last thing I need is to land my ass in the vice principal's office.

  Been there, done that. Way too many times to count.

  Okay, I am now going to harness those mental abilities I've been talking about.

  Channeling all the so called potential my mom keeps yammering on and on about.

  I blow out a slow steady breath. Finished with page one. I flip over the sheet. Fifty questions in total. I scan the second side quickly. Hmmm. Number 43 appears to be a trick question. Actually it looks deceptively straightforward but I know it's a sly ploy straight from the calculating brain of an Odysseus spouting mastermind. Key word in that sentence was deceptively. And I just caught her at her own game. Ha!

  Score: Parker-1 Ms. Fisk-0

  I plow through the remaining questions and almost pump my fist in the air because- oh yeah baby, there's an extra credit question. Honestly, I don't think I've ever been this excited to see an extra credit question before.

  In my life.

  And even better than that- I know it. I know the freaking answer! I'm practically giddy at this point. Giddy, I tell you!

  After finishing the second page, I go back to questions 15-17.

  My fingers flick the collar of my shirt as I release the top button. Is it hot in here? Because I think I'm starting to sweat. Okay. I need to concentrate. I have to channel my inner nerd. Wait a minute- what the hell am I saying? I don't have an inner nerd. Just focus...

  Focus.

  Focus.

  Focus.

  I'm focusing so damn hard that I think it's entirely possible my brain is going to start leaking right out of my ears. Yep, definitely got a brain strain from that one. But I've got to finish this. The Rocky theme song is playing in my head now. I'm in the home stretch. I can do this.

  Alright, I think I got question 15. And 16- well, maybe. It's a definite, solid- maybe. Last one. I take another deep breath and read over the question for like the fiftieth time.

  17. How might the impression Odysseus and we receive of Phaeacia be significant for Odysseus' subsequent return to Ithaca?

  Seriously, what the hell does that even mean?

  Arghhhh.

  I really don't know this one. I have to guess. I'm going to have to guess. Crap! I scribble down something- anything and I'll be honest- I'm totally pulling this one out of my ass. When I finally finish, I notice that more than half the class is still working quietly. But I can't stop myself from jumping out of my seat and rushing towards Ms. Fisk's desk.

  Without a word, I slap the paper down in front of her. She just stares at me like I've totally lost my shit. And maybe I have. At this point, anything is possible. Because this, my friends, is not normal Parker Montgomery behavior. Not one bit. It occurs to me that I've been saying that fairly often of late.

  "Can I help you, Parker?" She annunciates the words slowly as if she's talking to someone who's not quite right in the head. She has no idea just how close to the truth she actually is.

  "Umm, yeah, I'm done." I slide the paper towards her hoping she'll take the hint.

  With a small frown, she eyes me silently. "Good." She points to my paper. "Now take your test," before stabbing the same finger towards my desk, "and go sit down."

  "No." I think there's probably a fevered light in my eyes at this point.

  Her brows slide upwards at my refusal. "No?"

  "You have to grade my test right now. I need to know what I scored. It's really important because I think question 17 tripped me up and now I'm worried-"

  And... I'm babbling like a complete idiot. Even worse than that? I can't seem to stop. The words just keep spewing forth. Kind of like diarrhea. Oh my God, I can still hear myself talking! I'm still talking!
Later on I'll probably be seriously embarrassed about all this. Unfortunately right now- I don't give a damn. Thankfully I run out of steam before finishing with- "Can you just look it over for me?"

  "You want me to grade your paper... right now?" She searches my eyes carefully. "Are you feeling alright, Parker? Your cheeks look flushed. Maybe you should go to the nurse's office and lay down for the rest of the hour."

  "What? No! I mean, yes, I feel fine. I just want to know what my grade is. Can you look at it," and now I've been reduced to begging, "please?"

  Finally, after what feels like an eternity of intense scrutiny, Ms. Fisk slides her black reading glasses onto the bridge of her thin nose before slowly picking up my test. "This is most unorthodox."

  "Yeah, I know." All too well...

  "I mean for you," she clarifies.

  But again, she's not telling me anything I haven't already figured out for myself. Relaxing just a bit because it seems like she's actually going to do it, I snort. All this odd behavior can squarely be laid at Jordan Witnall's dainty little feet. Like I said before- inside out and upside down. Lately I don't know if I'm coming or going. Actually, that's not completely true. There has definitely not been any coming involved at all. Another thing to lay at that girl's feet.

  She picks up her red pen and poises it carefully over my paper. I almost wince. I hate that damn red pen of hers. Some of the papers she's handed back to me this quarter have looked as if they were bleeding profusely. I actually buried a few of them in the backyard to put them out of their misery. Yep, there was that much blood- I mean, red ink.

  Every time the pen moves in her fingers, my breath hitches. But so far she's halfway through the first page and she hasn't marked one single answer! Not one. I can't believe this. I can't-

  Wait- that pen is lowering- it's lowering and she's making a slash through number 17. Damn! I knew I was going to get that one wrong. I knew it. Okay. It's still okay, I reassure myself. Fifty questions- one wrong. That's still above a 95%.

  She flips over the page and eyes me speculatively for just a moment as if she can't quite believe I've done this well on one of her exams. Well, she's not alone in that feeling. Without comment she refocuses on my paper. Her fingers are sliding across each question as she looks at the corresponding answer before moving on. And then her red pen makes another slash through number 35 and- what! Not number 46!

  "What!" Shaking my head, I point to the question. "That's not wrong. I know the answer to that question! It can't be wrong!"

  She glances up at me in surprise. "Read the question carefully, Parker, and then look at your answer."

  I read through the question, then my answer. My brows draw together in confusion. Wait a minute... why did I... Crap. She's right. Another trick question! I circled the wrong damn answer.

  Feeling completely aggravated, I slide my fingers through my hair wanting to tear it out. I'm just about to drop the F-bomb, probably more than once if I'm being truthful, before I compress my lips together in an angry thin line. All I can do is stare sightlessly up at the ceiling as I blow out a long slow breath. Man, I studied so hard for that test.

  Three wrong answers. Three. That's a... that's a 94%. Crap.

  "I can't believe I'm saying this, but- well done, Parker, well done."

  I shrug, not bothering to even glance at her.

  Yeah, it's certainly the best grade I've ever earned on a test, especially in this class, but still, I wanted that date. I wanted to take Jordan out this Friday night. I had it all planned out in my head, too. I've never actually taken a girl out on a real date before. I mean sure, I've hooked up at parties and after games and had girls come over to study (wink-wink). As I'm sure you can imagine, there wasn't a whole lot of studying going on either. Unless studying anatomy counts. If it does, then we studied our asses off. But I've never actually picked a girl up at her house, taken her somewhere legit, engaged in an activity that did not involve some level of nakedness or groping, and then dropped her back off at her house. And I kind of wanted to do that with Jordan.

  "96%. You should be very proud of yourself."

  "What?" My eyes slam back down to the paper. There's a huge red 96% circled at the top of my exam. "But I got three wrong- that's a 94%." I may not be the sharpest knife in the place where they keep the knives, but I know that a- 47 out of 50 equals 94%. Not 96%.

  She flips the paper over and points to the bottom of the test. "Extra credit. You got it right. Two extra points brings your grade to a 96%. Congratulations."

  I actually pump my fist in the air. Twice. I also yell a bit too loudly- "Yes!" I'm wondering if doing a little victory dance would be overkill. Oh, what the hell- I do a little touchdown dance. Because I just scored!

  "Parker!" Ms. Fisk's lips twitch at the corners just a bit before she says rather sternly, "I don't know what's gotten into you today, but go sit down before you get yourself in trouble."

  "Sorry," I announce to the class in general, "Go back to your tests- even though most of you won't do as well as I just did." A few of them stare at me like I'm a total tool. But I'm fine with that. Oh, I am so fine with it!

  96%! Ha! I can't believe I actually pulled that off! Okay, so I guess I can rub my hands together now and laugh evilly because Friday night just got a whole lot more interesting. Look out Jordan baby, because you are mine, all mine.

  At least for Friday night, that is.

  I can't resist one more- "Yes!" Of course there's a little fist pump action to accompany it. Although this time I really do try to keep it on the down low. With a smug smile curving my lips upward, I slouch in my seat as I fold my arms behind my head. Alright, one more tiny- "Yes!"

  Okay, now I'm done.

  Chapter Eleven

  "Dude, are you like... humming?"

  "What?" I choke out the word in a very unfortunate, not to mention embarrassing, high pitched squeak as if I haven't quite hit puberty yet before clearing my throat and saying in a much deeper, manlier voice, "No- of course not!"

  But apparently, yeah... I was. I was totally humming. Jeez! Can you believe that?

  Humming...

  What's next- am I suddenly going to break out into a song and dance number? Maybe get my jazz hands on? Christ. I'll tell you, this kind of BS has got to stop. But here's the problem- I'm not exactly sure how to stop being so into Jordan. Ever since that girl slammed into my life, I've been acting like a love sick little puppy dog. The kind with big dreamy eyes. Yeah, it's actually a little pathetic now that I think about it.

  Okay, so maybe it's a lot pathetic.

  And humming in the dude's locker room, that's so uncool it's scary. Right now, I'm actually scaring myself. Apparently I'm scaring Max as well because he's eyeing me like he doesn't even know who I am anymore.

  After a moment, he mutters under his breath so that only I can hear, "You don't hum in the locker room unless you're looking to get your ass kicked. And seriously, after listening to that totally sad rendition of Say Something...damn, I'd probably let them do it." He shakes his head as if I'm too pitiful for actual words. Which only adds insult to injury. "Humming..."

  He's right though.

  And contrary to what Max is thinking- I am not looking to get my ass kicked. Not tonight anyway. Because tonight is my big date with Jordan. The one I've been obsessing about. My reward, if you want to call it that and I do, for going head to head on that test with Ms. Fisk and not only living to tell the tale- but acing the damn thing. Yep, still can't get over that one. It'll probably go down in the history books as one of my greatest achievements.

  Okay- so back to this whole date thing. I've decided to kick it a little old school tonight with Jordan. I'm going the whole nine yards. I've got it all planned out. That girl is definitely not going to know what hit her. Unless, of course, it's me hitting on her. Because when I hit on a chick, trust me, they know it. Oh yeah, baby...

  And tonight I'm going to have her all to myself and I'm not even going to tell you what-

>   "Earth to Montgomery, come in Montgomery!"

  That voice has me snapping out of the sexy little fantasy that was just about to start rolling through my head. "Yeah?"

  You see what I'm talking about? That girl is seriously more dangerous than drugs. It's like someone scooped out my frontal cortex.

  "We're hanging at Will's after this, you in?"

  "Nah," freshly showered, I swipe on some pit sauce, "got me some plans." It's seriously taking everything I have inside me to not hum like a complete idiot- that's how stoked I am about tonight. I just want to get her in my arms and-

  "Well change them because some of the ladies from the cheerleading team will be making a cameo appearance this evening. And Natalie will definitely be one of them. She specifically asked if you were gonna be there tonight." Adam makes a few lewd gestures and noises to accompany this information. That guy can be such an immature tool sometimes.

  "Still can't make it." Searching through my locker, I find my t-shirt before pulling it over my head.

  "Wait a minute- you're actually going to say no to a little heavy breathing action with Natalie Cosgrove?" Adam swaggers over before trying to lay a hand across my forehead as if he's checking for a temperature. Impatiently I bat it away.

  "What- you sick or something? No one turns down a chance to bang that hot little body unless they're getting it somewhere else." Then he smirks. "So who you doing tonight, Montgomery? Anyone I've already done? Are you in the mood for some sloppy seconds?"

  "Get the hell out of here, Birkmen!" The mere thought of Adam touching one blond hair on Jordan's head has me seeing red.

  A little surprised by my sudden outburst of anger, he shrugs carelessly before narrowing his eyes. Okay, so maybe I need to cage the rage where Jordan's concerned. It's just that I really can't stand to hear anyone, especially this douche bag, talk about her like that. Even if he doesn't exactly know that he's talking about her... like, um, that...

  Oh for God's sake, you know what I mean.

  "Whatever, dude, it's your loss." Then he grins. "Poor little Natalie will be so lonely without you. Guess I'll just have to comfort her. She probably won't know what to do with all those extra inches."

 

‹ Prev