Charming the Firefighter

by Beth Andrews

  Why didn’t it ever upset him when he let her down? When he disappointed her? What was she doing wrong?

  Someone knocked on the door, then it opened, and an elderly man with thick, bushy eyebrows poked his head in. “Everything okay in here?”

  “Not really,” Leo said. He stood. “Could you take Drew and have him clean out his locker?”

  The older man looked surprised, but just nodded at Andrew. “Come on, son.”

  Andrew went, head down, feet dragging.

  “Meet me out front as soon as you’re done,” Penelope told him.

  The older man clapped Andrew on the shoulder and walked him out. Through the window, she could see the man talking to him, his head close to her son’s.

  She rose, clutching her purse to her chest. What did one say after having a meltdown—and what could most certainly be construed as a temper tantrum—in front of fifty teenagers?

  “I can talk to the superintendent,” Leo said, obviously one of those annoying people who was never at a loss for words, “see if there’s some way we can work this out.”

  “There’s nothing to work out. Andrew is coming home with me and he won’t be back.”

  “What he did was wrong. And he needs to face the consequences of those actions, but there might be a way for him to stay on the team. With your permission this time, of course.”

  “You have plenty of other boys out there willing to sacrifice their health and well-being for the satisfaction of your ego,” she said stiffly. “You don’t need my son.”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up but his eyes were cool. “My ego is just fine. I don’t need a bunch of teenagers running around to build it up.”

  She believed him. From what she could tell, he had the looks, the charm and the confidence to handle any situation. Plus, he was obviously very comfortable with himself. Still, her pride wouldn’t let her take back her words.

  Her pride had always been her downfall.

  “I refuse to allow my son to play a sport that’s so dangerous,” she told him.

  He held his hands out and she bristled. She wasn’t a wild beast needing to be tamed. “I understand you’re upset he lied—”

  “I’m upset because he could have been hurt.” Leo didn’t understand anything. How could he? As far as she knew, he’d never been married, didn’t have any children. “Was already hurt.”

  “Football is a rough sport, but it’s getting better—better training, better equipment. If possible, I’d like to keep Drew on the team.”

  “His name,” she said slowly and carefully, her words coming out from between her teeth, “is Andrew. And he is not playing, and never will play, football.”

  “That’s your call, of course, but I think you should know he’s a valuable member of the team. His teammates, the other coaches, they all like him. I like him. He’s athletic and a hard worker. He made a mistake, but it’s obvious he did it because he really loves the game and wants to play.”

  “He’s a child. He doesn’t know what he wants. That’s what I’m here for.” To help him. Guide him. Stop him from making a mistake.

  Keep him safe.

  “You only want him to continue playing,” she said, turning toward the doorway, “so I don’t report your neglect to the school board.”

  Leo’s eyes flashed and narrowed, his expression darkened, and she got a very quick, very real glimpse of what he would be like if he was angry. “I want him to keep playing because I think it could be good for him. Because he enjoys it and the team loves having him. He’s made friends and works harder than any other kid out there.” He sent her a dismissive glance, his upper lip curled. “But then, you were right the other day at your office. You don’t know me at all.”

  Shaken, feeling unsure when initially she’d been positive of her position, that she was right, she walked away, her legs unsteady. She kept going even though part of her, a big part, wanted to turn around and apologize for assuming the worst of him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  HIS MOM WAS such a bitch.

  Fuming, Andrew glared out the car window, the houses they passed a blur. He hated her. Couldn’t even stand being in the car with her, breathing the same air. She’d ruined everything. Everything.

  Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

  When he’d seen her at the field, he’d about shit his pants knowing she’d found out his secret. But then she had to go and rip into Coach, humiliating Andrew in front of his team.

  His ex-team, he thought bitterly, his hands fisting. He was done playing football and now all the guys knew he’d had to lie and trick his way onto the team because his mom treated him like a goddamn baby.

  “We need to discuss this,” she said, her voice calm as she pulled to a stop at a red light.

  That was her. Always wanting to talk every damned thing to death.

  “I know you’re upset,” she continued.

  He snorted. No shit he was upset.

  “What you did was wrong.”

  “I wasn’t robbing stores,” he muttered. “I was playing football.”

  Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the knuckles going white. Good. He hated when he was upset and she remained so calm and cool as if it didn’t even matter. “You lied. To me. And to your coaches.”

  “I had to.”

  “There’s never a good reason for lying,” she insisted, like some nun or something.

  Even though she’d lied to him plenty. Had told him that everything would be fine between her and his dad, that they would work things out.

  “Would you have let me play if I’d asked?”

  She glanced at him, horrified. “Of course not.”

  “Exactly. That’s why I lied. I knew you wouldn’t let me play. You don’t understand me or how important playing football is to me.”

  “It’s just a game.”

  “It’s not just a game. It’s something I really want to do.” It was something he was good at. Finally, something he excelled at that wasn’t schoolwork, where the other kids didn’t look down on him or call him a dork because he liked to read and usually got good grades. “I’m tired of you treating me like a baby. I’m not sick anymore and I need to make my own decisions. Stop trying to run my life.”

  His mom pulled to a stop in their driveway. Since they’d been so late for his appointment, she’d had to reschedule. Fine by him. The last thing he wanted was to drive into Pittsburgh and be poked and prodded so a doctor could tell his mom he was still healthy. He just wanted to get away. His skin was hot and itchy, his chest tight, like if he took too deep of a breath he’d crack. Like if he opened his mouth to say something, he’d never stop yelling and his brain would explode, just boom all over the car.

  He jumped out before she’d even fully shut off the ignition and stalked down the driveway.

  “Andrew,” she said, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. “Where are you going?”

  “For a walk,” he snarled, not even looking back.

  “No, you’re not. You get back here and go to your room. We’ll discuss this later when you’ve had a chance to calm down.”

  He kept walking. Refrained, barely, from giving her the middle finger. But he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to let her know how tired he was of her. How done he was with her endless rules and her constant questions. Of her hovering and that stick up her ass, which made it impossible for him to have any fun because she was too uptight to do so herself.

  “Andrew,” she called again sharply, her tone high and unsteady. “Andrew!”

  He ignored her. Let her come after him. He snorted, shoved his hands into his pockets. He’d like to see that. Prim and prissy Penelope chasing her son down the sidewalk. Not going to happen.

  He flipped his head to get the hair out of his eyes. Slowed his pace now that he’d put some distance between them. Anger simmered in his blood, heated his veins until it seemed to burn through his skin. He was pissed all the time, even more so than when he was sick. Then
all he’d wanted was to be better. To be healthy. Normal.

  Now he didn’t know what the hell he wanted except to get away from his mom.

  He kicked at a rock, but missed, his toe skimming the surface of it. He kept going, head down, the wind chilling his bare arms. Yeah, that was what he needed to do. Get away from her. For good.

  Hopefully forever.

  He pulled out his phone, dialed his dad’s number.

  Voice mail.

  Shit.

  It beeped. “Dad.” He cleared his throat because he sounded like a whiny baby. Tried again. “Dad. It’s me. Call me.”

  He wasn’t going to stay here. Not with her. He’d move back to California, move in with his dad. His steps slowed. Sure, his old man worked all the time, but so what? It wasn’t like Andrew needed to be babysat constantly. He’d just have to make sure not to be any trouble. Keep to himself, get himself to school, get a job so he wouldn’t need any spending money and help out around the house without being asked. That sort of stuff. As long as he wasn’t some pain in the ass, his new stepmom probably wouldn’t care.

  His throat tightening, he shoved his hands into his pockets again. Except they hadn’t invited him to stay with them over the summer. When he’d brought it up, his dad had claimed he and Lorraine were still getting to know each other or some bullshit like that.

  He clenched his fingers around his phone and considered throwing it, but he wasn’t that stupid. He kicked an empty recycling container in front of a one-story brick house but it didn’t help him feel better. So he kicked it again. And again.

  “You might be better off finding a more constructive use of your time and a way to deal with your frustrations than abusing a helpless piece of plastic.”

  He whirled, breathing hard, and saw Gracie Weaver walking toward him, a huge black dog by her side.

  His face flamed, warmth suffused his neck. “Mind your own business,” he snapped, giving her a sneer.

  She lifted a shoulder. “You’re beating up a recycling container in the middle of a public street. Seems to me that is my business. But if you’d rather continue acting like a gorilla, be my guest.”

  She walked on, but her dog stopped and shoved his nose into Andrew’s crotch. Andrew froze. He’d never been around dogs much. Especially not ones big enough to eat his face off with one bite. He considered shoving the dog’s head away, but didn’t want to get his hand that close to the animal’s mouth and all those sharp teeth.

  Gracie sighed, tugged on the leash, but the dog was so huge, it didn’t budge. “Seriously, Sauron? That is so disgusting and rude.”

  The dog lifted his shaggy head, glanced at Gracie, then shoved his nose right back into Andrew’s balls. Finally, the dog sat on his haunches and stared up at him, his head tipped to the side as if asking if he could sniff Andrew’s crotch some more.

  “Sorry about that,” Gracie said. “He has no manners.”

  Andrew couldn’t answer, didn’t want to take his eyes off the dog. But hadn’t he read somewhere you weren’t to make eye contact with them? That they took that as a sign of aggression?

  Frowning, Gracie stepped closer. “You okay?”

  He nodded.

  She looked from him to her dog, then to him again. “Are you afraid of dogs?”

  He whipped his head up. “No.”

  He sounded like a complete wuss. Maybe that was why she didn’t look convinced. She set her hand on the dog’s head and he noticed her nails were short and unpainted, her fingers slender. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt you.”

  Yeah, right. That was the same thing the nurses used to say right before poking him with a needle. They’d used that same stupid, soft tone, too, as if he’d believe their lies if they said it nicely enough.

  “Really,” Gracie went on, stepping closer to Andrew. “Sauron’s big and dumb but really sweet and harmless.” She cupped the dog’s face in both hands, gave it a vigorous rub. “Aren’t you, baby?”

  People and their pets were so freaking weird.

  Andrew’s face was hot and probably red. He ducked it, hoped she didn’t notice. Not that he cared what some dweeb like Gracie thought, but he didn’t want it getting around that he was afraid of dogs.

  He edged to the side, then froze when the dog shifted as well. “I just...I don’t like dogs all that much.”

  She looked at him as if he was abnormal, which he hated. People had looked at him that way for half his life, and he never wanted to feel abnormal again. “So you’re a cat person?”

  “Like, am I part cat?” he asked before he could think of it. He held his breath and hoped she didn’t give him a hard time for a lame joke.

  She smiled. His stomach did a weird flip. Nerves because of the dog, he assured himself. Not because some wannabe hippie chick looked almost cute with her mouth curved up, her eyes sparkling.

  “Ha. No. I mean do you prefer cats over dogs?”

  Shrugging, his eyes on the dog, he moved to the left. “I’ve never thought about it. I’ve never had a pet.”

  His mother said they were too much work. See? This was all her fault. If she’d let him have a dog or a cat or even that parakeet he’d wanted when he was ten, he’d know how to act around animals. Not be stuck here waiting for this dumb dog to bite him.

  Not forced to have this stupid conversation with Gracie.

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Gracie murmured, sympathy in her big eyes.

  Great. Now Gracie Weaver felt sorry for him. Jesus.

  “Whatever.” He started walking. He hoped no one had seen them together. He’d busted his ass to make the right kind of friends in Shady Grove and the last thing he needed was to be caught socializing with someone like Gracie. She was too big of a dork with her weird clothes and misfit friends.

  Too different.

  She wasn’t exactly a complete loser. She just wasn’t in the same league as Luke and Kennedy and their friends.

  Andrew’s friends now.

  Heavy panting sounded behind him. A moment later, her dog nudged his thigh. Andrew jumped, then coughed to cover what had sounded too much like a squeak of surprise. No matter how fast Andrew walked, the dog kept pace. He glared at Gracie. “You following me?”

  “Seeing as how I was heading this way when I interrupted your little temper tantrum,” she said, not sounding upset by his bitchy tone, “I’d say the answer to that is no. Besides, in case it’s skipped your attention, I live next to you. I’m heading home. If it’ll make you feel better, safer, Sauron and I can walk on the other side of the street.”

  And have her telling everyone he was afraid of her dumb dog? No thanks.

  Though, in truth, he wouldn’t mind if the animal were on the other side of the street. The other side of town would be even better. Andrew stopped, his hands fisted. “I told you,” he ground out the words from between his teeth, “I’m not scared of him.”

  She kept walking as if she didn’t care whether he was next to her or not.

  Like she was the one who didn’t want to be seen with him.

  Fine with him, he thought, moving again. He’d wanted to be alone. Not be bothered by his chatty next-door neighbor. Or worse, listen to her lecture him on the proper way to handle his frustration, on how to deal with his anger.

  He snorted. What did she know? She’d never had cancer. She hadn’t been forced to move across the country. She didn’t have to live with his mother.

  He had real problems. Ones Gracie could never understand.

  The dog paused to sniff a street sign. Andrew kept walking, his long legs closing the distance between them. Gracie didn’t even glance his way. Good. He didn’t want her attention. He’d just keep going. Pass her and not look back.

  He would have, too, except when he got close, he heard her humming “Rivers and Roads” by The Head and the Heart.

  One of his favorite bands.

  That surprise caused him to sort of stop and stare at her until she raised her eyebrows. Only then did he realize he was acting lik
e an idiot.

  “Your dog’s name is Sauron?” he asked.

  At the sound of it, the dog looked at Andrew. Wagged his tail.

  “Yes,” Gracie said, her curly hair lifting in the breeze. “It’s from Lord of the Rings.”

  “I know.” He wasn’t a moron. “Sauron’s the villain,” he pointed out.

  Her lips twitched as if holding back a smile. Or a secret. “He’s too big to be named after a Hobbit. Even one as cool as Frodo. Plus, my mom gave him to me so it seemed only fitting to name him after the bad guy.” She tugged the leash and she and the dog started walking again. Andrew went with them. “There were books before the movies.”

  His mouth tightened at her condescending tone. “I know that, too. I read them.”

  He’d read a lot when he was sick. It was his escape.

  “What was your favorite one?” she asked.

  “I guess The Fellowship of the Ring.”

  She nodded. “That was a good one, but my fave is The Return of the King.”

  He wanted to ask why but she might think it a dumb question. They walked in silence for another block, but it wasn’t as weird or awkward as he would have thought. He glanced at her. She wasn’t ugly—though the brown-and-orange dress she wore qualified—it was more that she didn’t seem to care what she looked like. Each morning she must close her eyes, reach into her closet and put on the first thing she happened to grab.

  Today’s outfit was a perfect example. Brown tights, fur-topped boots that made an annoying clopping sound on the sidewalk, and that dress with its long, billowy sleeves. Plus, it ballooned around her stomach.

  Like she wanted to look fat.

  Her light brown hair reached her waist. There was so much of it, all these tight curls, one on top of the other, it was a wonder she could even hold her head up. But, he supposed, she could qualify as cute. If you weren’t too picky.

  They were in a couple classes together—AP history and trig. Even though he didn’t put in much effort in his schoolwork any longer, he still managed to get good grades. But so did Luke and Kennedy, so he didn’t feel like a dork about being smart.