Book of Luke (Book 2)

by Chrissy Favreau

  Dad still mulled things over. I wished he’d at least say something as he thought about it, so I could know what’s going through his head.

  “Come on! It’ll be hard to sleep with him with Burke there!” I blurted.

  My father’s eyes widened. My mother’s, too. She looked to him as he stared at me in horror, mouth slightly hung.

  “I meant…” I attempted. “You know, no one wants their boyfriend's stepdad watching over them their first time…” I bit my lip uncertainly. “And he’s not that kind of guy anyway,” I added. “We’re not even married. So there’s nothing to worry about, Dad.” I wasn’t breathing, and my face felt hot. I was probably beet-red.

  When my phone vibrated, I answered immediately, and blurted, “I can’t talk. My dad thinks I had sex, and I think I’m grounded!”

  I didn’t even know who the hell was on the other line.

  My father still stared, dumbstruck.

  I hung up the phone and fiddled with my fingers. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I rushed upstairs, in time to burst into tears.

  This terrible miscommunication between my brain and mouth wasn’t getting any better. At that point I didn’t want to go anywhere, because that would mean leaving my room.

  V

  My blood froze as I stared at the caller ID. Whom did I blurt about sex and being grounded to?

  Only the chancellor of the University of Northern British Columbia!

  You know, the president of the university? The guy who gets paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to get to know everyone? To keep the staff in the loop?

  To make unexpected calls to peoples’ cell phones?!

  Guess who’s not going to college…? At that point, I would have rather died.

  He’d left me a voice mail after I hung up on him. He said he was just calling to welcome me to his university, to see if I had any questions, and to get to know a bit about me.

  Well at least he got to know a bit about me, right?

  I spent about an hour in tears. It sounded like my parents were bickering downstairs, and I could not make out most of it. All I did hear was Mom’s,

  “You can’t keep her in a bubble, Paul!”

  After that they fell silent, and I thought they’d left home—I just couldn’t bring myself to go check.

  A while later, there was a tap on my door.

  “Yeah?” I answered quietly, setting my laptop aside.

  Dad opened it and stuck his head in. “May I come in?”

  When I didn’t answer, he entered and sat beside me on the bed. He didn’t say anything for a long minute—maybe he was waiting for me to talk. I just stared at my feet uncomfortably.

  “I just wanted to let you know that—as long as Burke really is going—you can go with Luke to ski in the Alps. I’ll even make you reservations, so you can have your own room. Just let me know where you’re staying.”

  I was still too embarrassed to look at him. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  He set a hand on my shoulder. “Just one request. I need to talk to you daily. Okay?”

  My eyes met his, uncomfortably. “Sure,” I breathed, and looked away.

  He slapped his knees and got up. “Great,” he said. “Dinner will be ready soon. We’ve ordered pizza.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Anna and I met Lilly by her locker in the morning. We asked her what happened, but she was too busy looking for her geography homework.

  We waited.

  She slammed her locker door and looked at us. “He didn’t answer his cell.” She looked over her shoulder at Gino, about twenty feet away. “I can’t believe I love that guy. Seriously, what a jerk, dumping a pregnant girl!”

  “You’re not pregnant,” we noted.

  Lilly grimaced. “What if I were?”

  Anna rolled her eyes, about to leave. Then we heard a door slam, and Luke stormed in.

  Luke’s face was dark and his eyes were wide. He moved quickly, grabbing Gino’s collar as he passed, and swiftly slammed him into the lockers.

  The hall fell silent.

  “What is this I heard about my sister?” Luke demanded. “You knock her up and dump her?”

  Gino was taken aback.

  We gasped. Lilly’s face turned white.

  Sure, Gino could fight him—and for a moment he looked like he wanted to—but his face fell. His eyes glided to Lilly.

  “Luke,” I said, taking a step toward him. Luke looked to me, but Lilly’s gasp brought me back. She shook her head no, pleading silently for me to keep quiet.

  Her eyes were scared.

  Luke pushed on him and moved closer, glaring into his eyes. It was odd seeing a six-foot-tall guy pinning a six-six to a locker. “You’re going to man up, and you’re going to marry her, or I will make your life a living hell.” He raised his eyebrows. “Got it?”

  I questioned—from the betrayed look in Gino’s eyes as he gazed at her—if he knew she was lying.

  Luke let him go. The crowd parted for him. He glanced over at us, and walked to class.

  Anna and I turned, waiting for Lilly to say something, but she was in shock.

  “Lilly,” I breathed. “This isn’t right.”

  She bit her lip. “Why did Lukasz do that? I did not expect him to do that!”

  Anna put her hand on her hip. “Maybe because he’s your brother? What did you expect, girl, a high-five?”

  Lilly stomped her foot. “I expect him to mind his own business.”

  “Lilly, we need to tell Luke,” I urged. “And you need to tell Gino.”

  Lilly put her hand up. “Don’t tell Lukasz anything. I’ll do it when I’m ready.” She sniffled. “I’m just too scared right now.”

  “It’s better to fix it now than let it get worse,” Anna advised.

  I glanced at Gino. The soulful way he looked at her made me feel even worse for him.

  ~ ~ ~

  I never thought the day would come when I’d voluntarily go see Mr. Bias. There were no college applications to discuss, but for once, confiding in a clueless idiot was better than confiding in no one at all.

  “Miss Morrison!” He pulled his feet off the desk, put his shaver away, felt his chin and grinned at me. I’m actually starting to think Cuba Gooding, Jr. is his twin. “What a pleasant surprise!”

  “Thanks,” I said lamely. “Is this a good time?”

  “Sure!” he exclaimed. “Not many kids come see me!”

  I could see why.

  “What brings you here?” he asked with his permanent grin.

  “I’ve been having a crazy week,” I started.

  “Good, good,” he said. “I’d love to hear about it.”

  “For starters, I threw up on my boyfriend’s dad’s lunch. I ordered the same thing he had and I had a bad reaction.”

  Mr. Bias’ grin grew. “And what did he have?”

  “I forgot what it’s called. It’s an Icelandic dish, it’s rotten shark…”

  “Hákarl!” Mr. Bias said with a snap of the fingers. “That stuff’s not for beginners!” His grin widened still. Didn’t his face hurt? “It made you sick?”

  “I spewed my vomit,” I admitted.

  “Yeah, you gag immediately when you taste it. I’ve tried it once.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely! And never again!”

  I chuckled.

  He leaned back in his chair and glanced at the wall behind me; at the poster of the hula girls.

  “Anyway,” I said, kind of wanting his attention. “I don’t think his dad likes me now.”

  His attention snapped back to me. “Why not?” he asked cheerfully.

  Well,” I said, “I sort of puked everywhere.”

  Mr. Bias shrugged. “What else?”

  “I was trying to convince my dad to let me go ski in the Alps with my boyfriend, and I got nervous and blurted some stuff. When my phone rang, I answered and blurted into the phone that my dad thinks I had sex and I may be grounded.”


  Mr. Bias smiled and rubbed his chin. When I fell silent, he made a little hand gesture and said, “Proceed, I’m listening.”

  “Well,” I said. “It turns out it was the chancellor of the University of Northern British Columbia on the phone.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Awkward.”

  “Very,” I mumbled.

  “Have you applied to a new college?” He reached into his desk and pulled out what I swear was the millionth viewbook he’d given me. “How about the state university?”

  “Actually, I’m going to skip it altogether,” I said.

  His face fell. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I honestly just don’t want to fork up forty grand a year for a liberal arts degree. Mr. Tweezer says my writing’s great, I can work from home.” More time with Luke, anyway.

  He held his chin and nodded. “Good, good.” He put his feet on the desk and crossed his legs. “Sounds like you’ve got a plan, then. Although you can still change your mind; maybe the chancellor will forget.”

  Who was he kidding? If someone blurted that to me over the phone, I’d remember it till the day I die. The guy will still be talking about it in thirty years—guaranteed.

  “Did you tell your parents you’re not planning to attend?”

  “No,” I said. “Please don’t.”

  His smile evaporated for a moment. Then it returned. “When will you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I thought Mom would understand, but Dad’s going to be a bit tough to convince. Not even sure why I have to convince him of anything—it’s my life.

  Just then I realized I’d told this guy the worst things about my week—he listened, and offered no useful advice whatsoever.

  Not that I expected a different result.

  “Well,” he suddenly said, rocking himself in his chair. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but it’s hard to market yourself with an English degree.” He shrugged. “Sure, you develop good grammar and memorize Shakespeare; it could be used in other areas. But in general, most people teach. And you’re not planning on doing that…?”

  “No thanks!” I don’t want to end up like my teachers. “Do best-selling authors have writing degrees?”

  “You don’t need a degree to be a best-selling author, you just need to write well. I think it’s mostly talent—you either have it or you don’t. Like artists, writers don’t need college to be amazing.” He revealed his pearly whites before changing the subject. “So you say you’re going to the Alps?”

  “Yeah, Luke’s taking me,” I said, my spirits lifting.

  “Is that your boyfriend?” He made a little hand gesture. “The current one?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you want to talk about him?”

  “We’re leaving Thursday night, so we’re only missing three days of school,” I exclaimed.

  “That’s nice,” Mr. Bias said. “Do you look forward to it?”

  “That’s why I’m going.”

  “Right, right,” he said between his teeth. “Well! Sounds like you’ve made up your mind about some things! Glad I could be of help! Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

  I hesitated for a moment. “Is it right to tell a guy you’re pregnant, just to get what you want?”

  His eyes widened. “You’re pregnant? Did you want to talk about that? I can clear my schedule.”

  “No, no! I’m asking for a friend. I meant, is it right to lie and say you’re pregnant, to get a guy to move in with you?”

  “Oh, for a friend. Is it right? Who determines what’s right or wrong? Is it ethical? No. Why doesn’t he want to move in with you?” He put up a finger. “With your friend…?”

  “Well, he wants to prepare for medical school, and there are none where she wants to move. But she doesn’t know this, she thinks she’s getting shoved aside for her brother.”

  “What does her brother have to do with anything?”

  “They’re best friends, the boyfriend and the brother.”

  Mr. Bias’ smile shrank. “That must be awkward.”

  “I’m sure,” I said.

  “Well,” Mr. Bias said. “It sounds like this guy should tell your friend that he wants to go to medical school. I don’t think her fabricating a problem will solve a problem.” He shrugged. “What happens when he learns she’s not pregnant? If a woman did that to me—or even to a friend of mine—I would be furious.”

  “You would?” I asked breathlessly, beginning to sweat.

  “Absolutely! Not only that, but I’d be mad at every person who knew it was a lie and didn’t tell me. The longer the lie, the harder it would be to forgive.” He stared at me for a few moments; then his smile grew into a grin. “Does that help?”

  “Uh-huh,” I peeped, terrified.

  “Good, good! Well, have a safe trip, Miss Morrison! I’ll see you next week!”

  VI

  Our final project in writer’s workshop needs to be at least a hundred pages. It can be a novella, a novel, a play, or anything one can think of, so long as Mr. Tweezer approves it.

  The project’s due at the end of the semester, and so far I’d accumulated a book of approximately eighty pages, filled with daydreams and fantasies I would never dare publish.

  Then again, they did invent this thing called a pen name…

  My book’s about a girl who couldn’t get much, until she met this amazingly hot, smart, sweet guy who sweeps her off her feet, always knows what to say, and never wanders.

  Yeah, that should sound familiar.

  And—because it’s fitting—I should title it My Best Friend’s Brother.

  I have not yet decided whether this guy’s dad looks like a male model, or if he’s a womanizer—I’m not sure I want to ruin the book. I mean, don’t guys end up like their fathers someday, anyway?

  What a plot twist!

  I bit my nail and stared at the clock.

  Another sixty minutes of class; of smelling Luke’s cologne besides me. Another three days until our plane leaves, carrying us to five days of freedom. Another two sleepless nights alone, missing him.

  Another episode of now-who’s-calling-Adonia’s-boyfriend that I’ve got to worry about.

  Seriously, he’s constantly checking his phone!

  “Adonia, care to share your thoughts?” Tweezer called, pulling me back to reality.

  “I hate man whores!” I blurted in a sudden panic.

  The class exploded in laughter.

  My blood turned cold. My face grew hot as I turned my head and looked at Luke. So cool and so hot all at once; his hair slick, his mouth seductive, his eyes twinkling, his mind wondering,

  What the hell is wrong with this girl?

  He looked amused, with that crooked grin and those brilliant eyes and that awesome chest—

  “Adonia!” Tweezer snapped his fingers at me. “Can you drool over Luke later? Right now I would like your thoughts.”

  I turned to Tweezer, breathless. My ears began to buzz. “My thoughts on what?”

  Tweezer crossed his arms. “William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet…?”

  “Oh,” I blurted, “I think Leo DiCaprio is way hotter!”

  Tweezer frowned. “Hotter? Than whom?”

  “The Romeo in this book,” I said, holding up the cover. “This guy is gross! I wouldn’t die for him!”

  I bit my tongue so I can stop before Tweezer’s stares get any weirder. People couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Like, oh my God I totally agree!” Jenna exclaimed, chatting to her slutty new redheaded, green-eyed friend, Karma. “Leo DiCaprio is like, almost as hot as Adonia’s boyfriend!”

  Tweezer sighed and pointed to Jake, who had his hand up in the back.

  “Juliet’s got a nice rack, though,” Jake announced, pointing to her boobs on the cover. All the guys closed their books and started evaluating.

  After a brief glance at the cover himself, Tweezer’s head fell into his hands. “How about we just… move on?” He went
and wrote a writing prompt on the board.

  I looked around awkwardly. Then I looked at Luke. He blew me a kiss and winked. After a moment he sat up in his seat, wrapped an arm around me and whispered,

  “You’re perfect.”

  ~ ~ ~

  I didn’t expect to see Gino by my locker after class. He wore cool, baggy blue jeans, a navy tee shirt and his black leather jacket. I tried not to check him out. Not only because he was my best friend’s—boyfriend?—but because I’m taken, and my boyfriend was watching.

  Luke stopped in his tracks about ten feet away, clearly not wanting to confront him. He actually looked like he wanted to beat his ass.

  I looked at Luke reassuringly before leaving his side. I stopped short of Gino and looked up at him. “Hey,” I said softly. “What’s going on?”

  Like I didn’t know.

  “If I ask you something,” he said in a low, sexy voice, “will you give me an honest answer?” He looked at Luke warily.

  “That depends on the question,” I wanted to say.

  My breath caught in my throat. “What kind of question?” I didn’t want to say yes, because I didn’t want to completely lie to him.

  He’s way too cute.

  He leaned on the locker and our eyes locked. Seriously, just seeing that look in his eyes made me want to break down and spill. “Did she cheat on me?”

  “What?!” I shrieked.

  “Did she cheat on me? Tell me the truth.”

  “Why in the world would she cheat on you?”

  “The last time I slept with her was just before Thanksgiving. She just found out she’s pregnant in mid-February? That’s like, three months. It takes three weeks to skip a menstrual cycle, right? Something ain’t right.”

  “She didn’t sleep with you since November?!”

  He looked around, as a few people were staring. “We don’t get much privacy.” He glanced at Luke. “That’s why I dumped her. Not ‘cause I’m an irresponsible prick, but ‘cause I’m ninety-nine percent sure she’s cheatin’ on me.” He knitted his eyebrows. “So?”

  “Gino,” I breathed, so tempted to just tell him. I bit my tongue for a moment, choosing my words carefully, because my heart was racing. “Lilly loves you. I can assure you with no uncertainty that she did not cheat on you.”