“Huh.” I turned his way, hugging my notebook to my chest.
“Hell for me would be trying to draw landscapes while someone tries to teach me and just failing miserably.” He shoved his notebook into his backpack without even closing it first. His sketch of a large Oak leaf, which was admittedly somewhat more sophisticated than the previous day’s work, shredded as he pushed it in.
“I think you’re right.” I focused on the backpack instead of him, because every time I looked at him, it smacked me upside the head. He was soooo yummy.
“I’d better start going to church more often.” The self-deprecating smile only enhanced his looks.
I smiled with him. “Me too. I couldn’t stand more than five hours a week of this drawing torture.”
As we walked towards the Art room to enter the school, he asked, “So, do you want to eat lunch with us? Me and my friends?”
“Yeah,” I said, recovering quickly from the shock. “Sounds good.” Better than the day before. Or the three hundred and sixty-five days before that.
After I picked up a chicken salad sandwich and an apple, I found Will at the table where he and his friends sat. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had engraved their names on it. I saw an empty seat at the opposite end.
Will stood up. “Hey, Amanda. Guys, this is Amanda. That’s Jenny, Meg, Kyle, Colin, and Mark.”
“Hi.” They all sort of waved at me. I sat down, and pretended I wasn’t feeling totally awkward. Will sat too. Mom would have been so impressed with his manners.
“You’re from South Carolina, aren’t you?” asked Jenny, the meaner-looking girl, with a scowl. Her blonde hair definitely came from a salon.
“North Carolina actually. Charlotte.” Christie had decided that I could use my real name if we lied about my hometown. I unwrapped my sandwich, hoping to discourage any further questions.
“Is there a difference?” The other girl wrinkled her nose at my sandwich. Or at me. I’m not really sure.
“Actually, yeah.” I popped open my Diet Coke.
“I love Charleston,” Jenny said. “We went to that famous seafood place. What’s it called? Heyman’s or something?”
I could already see that we were not going to get along, but it was a chance to hone my diplomacy skills. “I don’t know. I’m from Charlotte, North Carolina. Not Charleston, South Carolina.” Not that I could answer any questions about Charlotte either.
“Oh,” Jenny said, wrinkling up her nose. “Too bad. They had really good Baked Schrod.”
Colin snorted and rolled his eyes, “Jenny likes to pretend she’s more worldly than the rest of us.”
“Colin,” Meg warned.
“Whatever, Colin,” Jenny snapped. “I don’t see anyone else at this table who’s traveled through Europe.” She looked pointedly at me. “Have you been anywhere interesting?”
“No,” I admitted. “We pretty much just go to Florida for vacations.”
“Oh, man,” Kyle said, gesturing excitedly. “My grandparents live in Boca. Florida rocks.”
Jenny looked peeved.
Luckily, they all sort of talked as if I wasn’t there for a while, so I listened and ate my lunch. It was a good thing I wasn’t really moving here because I didn’t think the girls liked me much. They all got along so well, I felt like a total outsider. I envied their confidence.
I wasn’t used to eating lunch with guys, especially not popular ones. I pinched off little bites of my sandwich so chicken wouldn’t get stuck in my teeth and so my mouth wouldn’t be full if someone decided to talk to me.
Kyle, Colin, and Mark must have been Will’s soccer buddies because they started talking about the game against St. Vincent’s tomorrow. The boys’ team played in the spring while the girls’ played in the fall. Just like at home. Tomorrow was a special exhibition game. Otherwise, the guys weren’t allowed to play as a school-sanctioned team until February.
Will caught me watching as he dodged Mark’s excited gestures, and he winked at me. My heart stopped. No way did a hottie like that just wink at me. Even if it was just a friendly wink and not an “I want to date you wink,” it was still totally out of my realm of experience. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I smiled for a split second before lowering my gaze to my sandwich.
At least no one was paying any attention to me. But then, Will said, “Amanda came out to the field last night.”
Suddenly six pairs of eyes stared at me. I figured I was supposed to say something, so I tried to smile. “I needed a soccer fix.” It came out more like a question than a statement, but hey, I was holding my own, wasn’t I?
“Too bad you didn’t think of that, Jenny,” Meg said. Jenny hit her and gave her a dirty look.
I think the guys were impressed. Colin said, “We don’t get many girls out there.”
“I played a lot of coed in Geo-Carolina.”
“Carolina,” the African-American guy, Mark, said mimicking my accent. I wanted to throw my drink at him, but I restrained myself. I’d never heard an African-American with a New Jersey accent either, but I wasn’t mocking him.
“I like her accent,” Kyle said.
“Actually, I don’t have much of a Southern accent. My parents aren’t from the South.”
They stared at me like they didn’t believe me. But some people in Atlanta assumed I came from up North, so I knew my accent wasn’t really strong.
“We had soccer practice last night,” Mark said.
Colin reached over to pat his head. “That’s right Markie-pooh. We did.”
“Stop it, man,” Mark shrugged him off.
“You went out after practice? Are you trying to make us look bad?” Kyle asked. He punched Will in the arm.
Will slugged him back. “No. Not that I even have to try to make you look bad.”
“Dude, he told you,” Mark said.
“He meant all of us, jerk,” Colin said.
Even Jenny had to laugh.
English went much better that day. Knowing Will suffered along with me helped somehow. Of course, I couldn’t see him because he sat in the back of the room. I had to strain to see the teacher because she kept the blinds drawn like some kind of mortuary or something. Ms. Brown wore another ugly ensemble. Tan sweater, khaki skirt, dark brown jacket, and those really ugly loafer shoes with the leather fringe on them. No wonder they said she was depressed. She’d have to be looking like that.
Then, she took time out from her monotonous lecture to tell me that I could make up Friday’s test on Monday. Thank God I’d be long gone by then.
Not talking to Lexi about Will and all the spy stuff was killing me. I’d left Lexi a message on her cell telling her I couldn’t send or receive emails due to Christie’s archaic computer system and that I couldn’t text her because of my cheapskate dad. I sat there, listening to Ms. Brown drone on and experienced serious friend withdrawal. I just wanted to call her and say, “You won’t believe what happened.”
My non-existent love life hadn’t really bothered me. Too much. I mean, I had soccer, and school, and my language tutoring. I had friends.
But deep down, I’d wanted a boyfriend. Who didn’t?
I knew what Lexi and Alicia would say. They’d tell me to go for it.
In what I hoped was a subtle move, I snuck a peek over at Will. God, he was hot.
He wasn’t half bad in French class either. The teacher spoke like a native of France. She’d apparently studied there for several years. I hated teachers who couldn’t pronounce the language correctly, so I was relieved. Otherwise, it would have been like fingernails on a chalkboard.
Will read a paragraph he’d written, and he did pretty well. Suddenly, I got the whole thing about French being a romantic language.
Chapter Five
I waited out front after school for Christie, but Nic showed up instead.
He waved to me while I walked around to the passenger side.
“Hey, Nic.” I was actually glad to see him. I wanted to know more about my a
unt, and he seemed like the person to ask.
“How’d it go? Any progress?” He reached over and opened the door from the inside.
How cool did I look with this guy?
I climbed into the jeep and slammed the door. “Some.”
He drove better than Christie so I relaxed. “So when I make friends, do I introduce you as my aunt’s partner at GASI?”
He shook his head woefully. “I guess I’ll have to be her, God forbid, boyfriend.”
“I guess. So, do you have a girlfriend? I mean, wouldn’t that make her mad?” I knew I was prying, but I didn’t care.
He stopped for the red light. “It’s not easy to date with this job.”
“Does Christie date?” I shifted in my seat so I didn’t have to meet his eyes and chicken out.
“Not that I know of.” The light turned green and he pressed on the gas, but fortunately without the enthusiasm Christie showed.
“Wouldn’t you notice if she dated?” Was there any way I could arrange for him to drive me for the rest of the week?
“Probably.” He shrugged.
I looked at him closely. “Do you like her?”
“Who? Christie?” He glanced sideways at me. “You mean as a person?”
“No. I know you don’t like her as a person.” I was comfortable enough to release the roll bar completely. “I picked up on that already. I mean, do you like her like her. As a girlfriend.”
He let out a peal of laughter. “No. I don’t need a Girl-Fiend.”
I giggled. “Ooh, you’re bad.” I couldn’t believe he said that.
He made a right turn. “You don’t need to tell her I called her a fiend.”
“Like I would.” He couldn’t drive us around if she killed him.
“Seriously.” He glanced over at me and then back to the road. “She’s enough of a pain as it is. And the three of us are going out to dinner tonight.”
“We are?” Surely she wasn’t going to let me relax for a few hours.
“She thought you deserved a treat.”
I spotted the condo complex ahead. “Don’t you have to be at work?”
He guided the car through the gate. “Not until later. I’ve got the closing shift, so I don’t have to show up until seven. It’s frustrating though, because I’m only there to watch this guy, and he never talks to anyone.”
Having a real job and a second fake job must stink.
I pulled on my favorite jeans and big Carolina Soccer T-shirt and trudged into Christie’s room. Oversized things were more my style. I wasn’t really comfortable with emphasizing my breasts. “Hey Christie, where are we going to eat?”
I liked her room better than the rest of the condo. She had a bright fuchsia Indian sari hung on one wall.
“Rocky’s Pizza, Brick Oven. To die for.” She flipped through the clothes in her closet.
“Yum, I love pizza.” I plopped down on the bed.
Flip. Flip. “How’s this?” She pulled out a little black dress.
“Is the pizza place that dressy?” I looked down at my T-shirt.
A smile broke out across her face. “No. It isn’t. Nic really likes women in dresses.”
What? “I don’t get it. I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I don’t.” Her smile turned to an evil grin. “But I like to mess with his mind.” She held the dress up to examine herself in the mirror.
“Well, that should do it. Aren’t you already messing with someone’s mind?”
“Pulease! Don’t remind me.” She shuddered. “That’s work. Hard, repulsive, irritating work.” Motioning to the dress, she said, “This is just for fun.”
“So, it’s fun because Nic is attractive?”
“Actually, I’d rather go with it’s fun because Nic’s not a criminal.”
“He is hot. Admit it.”
“Who Nic?” She turned and wrinkled her nose. Maybe she’d seen Jenny and Meg because she did a pretty good impression.
“Nice try.”
“Oh, I meant to tell you that you’re welcome to borrow any of my clothes anytime you want.” Christie didn’t look at me as she said it. She checked herself out in the mirror.
Did she want me to wear them? “I’m really more into baggy and comfortable than fitted and flattering.” I moved aside so she could lay the dress on the bed.
“Was that a compliment?” She turned back to me.
“I don’t know. But I do like the way you dress.” I gestured to the jacket she was wearing. The new Christie was growing on me. “You’re very beautiful. I didn’t realize it before.”
Christie’s wide smile could have graced a magazine cover. “Thanks.”
I would have thought Christie was too self-assured to want compliments. I guess everyone needed one once in a while.
I ended up wearing my comfy jeans with one of Christie’s tops. The neckline dipped a little and drew attention to my breasts, but if I ignored that, I had to admit it looked pretty darn good on me. The padded bra didn’t hurt.
Christie was right about the dress. We walked through the aroma of garlic and fresh bread to the table to meet Nic. He almost tripped over his tongue when he saw her.
“What’s with the dress?” Nic asked, standing up from his seat at the table.
“A woman likes to look nice sometimes.” Christie quipped and sat down at the table. She pulled her water glass toward her.
“Maybe, but why are you wearing a dress.” He waited for me to sit down and then seated himself.
“Do I need to demonstrate my sixth-degree black belt?” Christie crossed her legs.
Nic grinned. “Maybe.”
“Really, a black belt?” I asked.
“Yeah. You should try martial arts.” Christie squeezed a lemon into her water. “I think you’d be a natural.”
“Okay.” I glanced over at Nic and caught him checking out Christie’s legs. I giggled.
He looked over and gave me a guilty face. He gestured for me to keep it to myself. Since Christie could hold her own, I would.
“Amanda, you are going to love the pizza here,” Nic said.
I inhaled a big whiff of Italy. “I think you’re right.”
“Hey, Amanda,” a voice said from right next to me. I looked up to find Will standing there. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I thought I’d say, ‘hi.’”
Had Christie done this on purpose to see how I’d interact? I hated tests. Be cool. “Hi! Umm. This is my aunt, Christie, and her boyfriend, Nic. This is Will from school.”
“Well, hello,” Nic boomed in a voice several octaves deeper than he normally used.
“Nice to meet you, Will.” Christie offered her hand, and he shook it.
Nic stood and offered his hand as well. Will paled a little as the tall, muscular agent gripped his hand.
“Well.” Will swiped a strand of hair out of his eyes. “I should get back to my mom. I just wanted to say hi.” He glanced at me. “You look really nice tonight.” Then, he looked away quickly and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Umm. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye. Thanks for coming over,” I called but he walked so quickly I doubted he even heard me.
Nic waited until Will was across the room before sitting back down.
“You didn’t have to intimidate him,” Christie scolded.
Nic grimaced. “He was looking at Amanda like she was a piece of chocolate cake. I thought she was just nosing around, not dating the kid.”
“She isn’t dating him. She’s just being friendly and trying to find out some information.” Christie turned back to me. “So,” she said with a teasing tone, “someone’s made a conquest.”
I shrugged, trying not to blush. “He was just being nice.”
Christie eyed me for just a little too long while I studied my fork. “I’d hate to use the chocolate cake analogy, but he was definitely interested in more than being polite. You didn’t even see him over there. He could have just left without you knowing.”
“L
ook Amanda,” Nic said. “Be careful. He may be dangerous. All teenage boys are dangerous to some extent.”
Christie opened her mouth but instead of telling Nic he was nuts, she said, “Maybe you shouldn’t wear my clothes anymore, Amanda.”
I peered down at my shirt. Maybe I should wear Christie’s clothes more often.
“Nic, stop it,” Christie said.
I eyed Nic, but I couldn’t tell what he was doing wrong this time.
“I’m not doing anything.” Nic said, with exaggerated innocence.
“You’re glaring at him across the room,” Christie scolded. “Leave him alone.”
“I just want to make sure he knows that I’m onto him.”
“He’s a suspect, you idiot. Not Amanda’s prospective husband. You’re going to spook him.”
“Oh, speaking of spooking,” I said, and I gotta tell you, it wasn’t that easy to say. “How’s your investigation going?”
“You mean Operation Rat Bait,” Nic asked.
“I said not to call it that,” Christie said. “I’m not bait.”
“Too bad,” he said, wiggling his brows. “You are a tasty little morsel in that dress.”
“You sure are a rat. No, a pig.” Christie turned my way, dismissing Nic. “It’s progressing. The man never contacts anyone, so we’re going to up the pressure. Today, I slipped a few phony late registrants into the mix. One of the names definitely got a reaction. Tomorrow, I’ll flirt with him all day, and then demand he take me to dinner.”
“We’ve got his office, home, and car tapped. It’s only a matter of time.” Nic smiled at Christie. “And today, I found some chemicals in his house that prove he’s the guy with the truth serum formula.”
“Why don’t you just arrest him?” I asked.
“We want his accomplice, too,” Christie explained. “Otherwise, he could just sell the formula himself.”
“So, don’t you have to watch him all the time?”
“We are. We’ve got a tracking device on him.” Christie pulled a compact from her purse and handed it to me. “Open it.”
I did. It looked like that squiggly multicolored blush/base/powder stuff that turned to a normal color when you brushed it on.
Investigating the Hottie Page 5