by Sarah Tork
“Hey Jenna,” a soft voice called behind me. I turned around and Becky was walking to me.
“Hey, where have you been?” I asked, genuinely interested. “Did you skip yesterday?”
“Yeah.” She sighed, hiding her hands in her jean pockets. “I needed yesterday. Personal reasons though.”
“I can respect that. I should have taken a personal day yesterday too.”
She nodded. “I heard what happened between you and Latisha. That girl is crazy.”
I grunted. “You said it. She tried again this morning, but eventually ended up running away like a scared little piggy. Trust me when I say, I’m not finished with her for what she pulled yesterday.”
Becky chuckled, eyeing me amusedly. “Oh, I believe you. But the question is will that idiot with too much time on her hands take you seriously enough to not open her mouth and spill garbage like the trash compactor she is.”
I shook my head in shock. “Whoa… where did that come from?”
A long sigh of exhaustion left Becky’s mouth as we stood in front of the cafeteria entrance. “Let’s just say, that girl has her hand in many sudden confrontations. And I’m gonna leave it at that.”
“I can respect that,” I told her. “But hey, if you need a hand, or someone to have your back against Latisha or any girl like her, I’m your girl. Call me, anytime. With pleasure, my friend, I will gladly take a ho out. And yes, I slut shamed the entire ‘hot’ girl crew, and no, I’m not sorry I did it.”
Becky smirked, not taking her eyes off the entrance door window. “You won’t get any objections from me. My thoughts pretty much lie with yours.”
“Awesome,” I cheered and stepped up to enter. “Are you going inside? We’re having lunch together, right?”
She shook her head slowly. “Actually, no. Um, I’m not eating in the cafeteria today. I’ve got some library duties to attend to.”
“Oh, okay. What about food, you got food for lunch?”
“Yeah, I got a sandwich.” She smiled at me. “Thank you for caring, though. It’s been a while… you know. There are a lot of fake people at this school. I swear, if it weren’t for you and Annabelle…. I’m just happy we’re all friends.”
“Me too.” I smiled, feeling warm. Screw Dana, and screw Tina. This school had a plethora of good-quality people waiting to be scooped. I needed loyal friends, who I could be loyal back to… was that too much to ask!
“Three cheers for loyal friends! We finally have it made in life, Becky!” I hollered to Becky, making her laugh.
Becky left for the library and I entered the cafeteria, searching for Tom and Annabelle with my paper bag lunch, leftover lasagna from last night. I found my little group sitting with their usual people at the same table as yesterday. And just like yesterday, a few tables away were the “hot” girl crew. Every single part of me wanted to march to that table and smother both Latisha and Stacey Two with my lasagna, ruining their clothes for life.
Like… I really, really, really wanted to.
But then I made eye contact with Annabelle, and then Tom. They were both smiling at me, filling me with warmth that quickly discouraged thoughts of revenge. Girls like Latisha and Stacey Two, and girls who weren’t loyal—ahem Dana and Tina—did not deserve my attention… like at all.
Starting right now, my new superpower in annihilating problematic people from my life would be… the mute button. From now on, I, Jenna Sabini, with the power of silence would ignore plastic beasts with too much time on their hands.
“You’re happy,” Annabelle assessed as I took a seat next to her at the baseball team’s table.
“That’s because the warrior is back, and with new tactics. ‘Hot’ girls and disloyal people beware.” I took out my lasagna and juice box.
I felt an arm wrap around my stomach. “Hey, silly,” Tom murmured, giving my cheek a quick peck before pulling away. “Ohhhh, lasagna.”
“You like?” I asked, unsealing the plastic container.
“I like food,” he simply stated, and every single person at the table laughed like it was an inside joke. I got the joke.
“Then share half with me,” I offered, which earned me a sweet smile and another quick kiss to the cheek from my darling.
He seriously ate half my lasagna and I didn’t mind one bit; in fact, I liked feeding him. It brought a certain joy to an already weird day.
How funny was it that with an attitude change, the cafeteria stayed peaceful instead of turning into a war zone. A quick glance around only further proved my point. Potential enemies were making themselves obvious with scowls pointed my way. They expected retaliation, acknowledgement, a loud scene that ended horrifically for one and victorious for the other.
But not today.
Hell, maybe not ever.
“Who you looking at, Jenna?” Tom asked, pulling me close to him.
“Nobody special.” I smirked and picked up my juice box. I poked my straw through and brought the sweet taste of apple juice to my boyfriend’s smiling mouth.
He could have the first sip.
I was nice like that.
Hey, when Jenna Sabini liked… she liked hard.
I loved hard too, but we weren’t there… not yet anyway.
“Want a sip?” I grinned. He narrowed his pretty blue eyes and opened his pretty mouth over the straw, taking a quick sip. His gaze locked on mine as his mouth released the straw, and as his fingers intertwined with mine, my body grew warmer in a slightly uncomfortable way. His expression made sense now.
Heated.
Wild.
Tempted.
These casual touches and simple gestures meant more.
“Look at the lovebirds ripping each other’s clothes off mentally,” Peter announced, pointing at Tom and me, making everyone at our table laugh loudly, including Tom and me.
It was kind of true, but not quite. It was still too soon for things like that. But as laughter died down and Tom’s eyes met mine, sending my body through a heat wave, I couldn’t help but question what I was and wasn’t willing to do with him… this soon.
“Bro, where have you been?” Peter said, shifting for space as Roy took a seat next to him on the bench.
Frustration oozed from Roy as he pulled a large submarine wrapped in plastic from his black backpack. His eyes met mine as he slowly unwrapped his lunch. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m mentally exhausted.”
Peter bro-hugged Roy with a look of commiseration. “You’re preaching to the choir, bro. Women are nothing but trouble.” He grunted before eyeing Annabelle and me with a shrug. “Sorry, ladies. But Peter the Great has spoken the truth.”
CHAPTER 16
*JENNA*
“Dana, he won’t answer my phone calls.” Tina rushed behind Dana en route to the baseball diamond after school. The entire baseball team huddled around their coach for important team business. I assumed it was about their game next week before Thanksgiving. I could be wrong though.
“Anna, check out the show.” I nudged Miss Annabelle Simms, interrupting serious cell phone business.
She glanced up with a creased forehead and scowled down the bleachers where Dana had just arrived. “Who cares about those girls, they’re totally not worth the time or the effort.”
I snorted. “Oh, I can’t help but watch, it’s about to be a disaster scene down there. I know I said I’d stay out of the drama, but I never said anything about spectating. Three cheers for innocent bystanders enjoying the chaos that is our high school life, mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“Whoop, whoop, whoop!” Annabelle semi cheered with a half-assed fist pump. Her attention went back to her cell phone screen, her body position keeping me from peeking. Which was totally rude of her. But whatever.
My attention returned to Tina, who’d been missing since practice this morning. She paced the small plot of green by the diamond, frantically texting and dialing. My guess? What Coach told Gabe and her this morning, some home truths, really brought Gabe back down to E
arth.
Tina, not so much.
“Baby, I love you so much. Don’t listen to Coach, she’s just trying to ruin what we have. She’s old and alone. She’s jealous too, I’m sure of it. Gabey, please. Couples don’t have what we have! Please, answer my phone calls. You’ve been avoiding me all day. I need you! Nobody loves you like I do. Your priority should be me… ME!”
“Wow… Tina’s lost her damn mind,” I muttered, in awe at her performance. “Dear God, if I ever, ever… EVER act like that, please throw me off a cliff somewhere… amen.”
Light chuckles came from Annabelle. “Ditto.”
I switched back to Dana, who stood behind that huge metal fence thing behind the catcher’s mound… is that what you called it?
“Roy!” she yelled, clasping her hands over the metal rings, pressing herself against the fence. “Roy, please!”
Roy stepped away from the huddle, his face the definition of annoyed. “Stop it, Dana. Go home.”
Stepping out of the huddle, their coach marched angrily to Dana, who wisely unclasped her hands from the fence and took timid steps back.
Dana, what are you doing?
“Young lady, you’re disturbing baseball practice. What is it?” he roared.
“I need to speak with Roy Davidson, it’s really, really, really important,” Dana vowed with all her might, like it was a matter of life or death.
I shifted in my seat and glanced at Annabelle. “Totally not getting involved.”
“No, we ain’t,” Annabelle piped in, still obsessed with her cell phone.
“What are you doing with your phone, girl?” I tried peering over her shoulder again, but she huddled over it… again.
“Nothing you’d be interested in,”
“Not cool, Anna.” I groaned in annoyance. “Fine, whatever. Totally minding my business.”
I glanced back at the field and the baseball team’s coach marched to Roy. “You need to do this now, Davidson?”
“No, Coach Michaels, it’s not important. Just some girlfriend drama,” Roy stated, eyeing Dana angrily. She was making him look bad. No bueno.
Coach Michaels faced Dana. “You heard him, now off my field. You’ve disrupted my practice enough.”
“Roy!” Dana screeched, sidestepping slowly away from the field. “Roy, why won’t you talk to me? You’re cheating again, aren’t you? That’s why you won’t talk to me. Why won’t you tell me who you were texting this morning? Fine, don’t. See if I care. But I’m never talking to you again!”
“Kill me, please,” I muttered, watching Hurricane Dana combust in a fit of tears and tantrums, moving like a turtle away from baseball practice, and thus stalling practice from proceeding in all its ball-throwing, bases-stealing, home-run-hitting potential.
This time Annabelle was looking too. “Was that me… last month?”
Exhaling deeply, I had to think about that one. “Not really… kind of… like 20 percent similar… but your fight was for important reasons. Dude, I told you before, this is like Dana and Roy’s fiftieth breakup fight. I mean, come on, take a hint, the universe doesn’t want you together. Ugh… totally moving past spectator into somewhat involvement. Stopping now.”
“Only 20 percent drama, 80 percent legitimate. I’ll take it.” Annabelle grinned, satisfied as evident by her tone.
“Jenna Sabini, your one-stop shop for awesome advice.” Sighing, feeling content, I leaned back and made eye contact with Tom as the huddle dispersed. The smile he sent my way stirred butterflies in my stomach. I smiled back, hoping he felt butterflies too.
*~*~*
*JENNA*
“I don’t care what you say, spicy mustard sauce is disgusting.”
Pitiful.
Embarrassing.
Disgraceful?
Maybe.
My boyfriend had so much to learn about life, so much so, the sigh that left me was at least a minute long. Tom was making some ridiculous statements concerning my beloved.
“Bro, you don’t know what you’re talking about. This stuff is liquid gold.” I scooped a nugget in my yummy-in-my-tummy delectable condiment and stuffed the entire 10 percent chicken, 90 percent mysterious substance concoction in my mouth. “Too good. You don’t know what you’re missing, bro.”
“Thanks, but I’ll stick with the clear crowd favorite… barbeque sauce,” Tom declared a bit too loudly, gathering the attention of our fellow dinner patrons at Brucey’s.
“Darling, sweetie, just don’t, okay?” I picked up a still sealed barbeque sauce cup and shook it at him. “This isn’t groundbreaking, nor is it a culinary diamond. It’s a regular sauce, and you saying it’s anything but a regular… sauce, kind of makes me fear for your sanity. Sacrilege, bro. Make it stop. Stat!”
Instead of conceding like a smart boyfriend would have—because hello, I was clearly right—Tom decided to do something else. “Attention Brucey’s, attention Brucey’s. Jenna Sabini hates your barbeque sauce and has threatened my life if I keep requesting your condiment. But I don’t care, I like what I like, gosh darn it!” he sang that last part.
Since we happened to be seated side by side, I used it to my advantage and hastily covered his mouth with my hand. “You’re crazy, you know that?” I whispered, hoping we weren’t tonight’s entertainment for everyone in the restaurant.
His lips brushed against my palm, sending shivers down my spine. I slowly dropped my hand off his face.
“I know I am,” he murmured. His blue eyes blazed, sending messages that I’d have to wait till later to decipher… preferably under my bedcovers.
I straightened in my seat and grabbed another nugget, dipping it in spicy mustard sauce. “You like what you like, huh?”
He grabbed the last nugget and dipped it in barbeque sauce. “You’re what I like.”
Breathe, Jenna!
We dumped our trash and headed out of the restaurant. We stood under the awning as it rained hard outside. Tom wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to his body.
“I want to tell you something.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“About what happened last Saturday, why I ran out.” He exhaled and continued. “Before my dad left, he promised to teach me how to swim like him. In an Olympic-sized pool too. He was so fast, and I wanted to be like him so bad, that when he disappeared, afterwards I couldn’t step foot in a pool. I swim at the beach and only at the beach. The reminder of what could have been… it scarred me from going anywhere near a pool. I know it makes me sound like a wussy boy, and trust me it bothers me that I just can’t get over it. Ugh… I don’t know. I’m a joke.”
“No, you’re not. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to learn from your dad,” I said, finally understanding. “To be honest, I thought it was something I did. You left so quickly, we didn’t even get a chance to eat the bacon.”
“Oh, yeah, the bacon!” Tom’s eyes widened.
“I was so angry that I threw it all out.” I chuckled. “My dad got mad though.”
“I’d be mad too, it’s bacon.” Tom smirked, pulling me closer to his body. My arms went around him and we hugged for a minute as I rested my face against his chest.
“Don’t worry about the pool thing,” I mumbled against his white shirt that smelt like fresh linen.
His hands sandwiched my face, tilting it up to face him. “But that’s the thing, I don’t want be like that anymore. I want to swim with you, and in a pool. That’s why I bought those suits with you last Saturday.”
I suppressed my happy smile. “You wanna train with me?”
He nodded sweetly. “Yeah.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I need a new training partner.” I sighed, feeling all kinds of emotion. Stretching on my tippy toes, I leaned up and pressed my lips softly against his. It was a short kiss because we were at a family restaurant and hello, kids and easily disturbed parents were walking in and out. We separated and I looped my arm through his as we crossed the parking lot in a rush. Rain drenched u
s from head to toe, but this was Florida and in five minutes the storm would pass and the heat would dry us in a flash.
Tom started his car and drove us out of the parking lot. We arrived at my house a few minutes later, and this time, he parked by my driveway instead of by my neighbor’s. I unbuckled and got out of the car. Tom joined me on the driveway.
He grinned nervously, smoothing his light brown hair in place and straightening his shirt. “So, what are you going to tell your parents when we meet them in five seconds?”
There was a huge chance that what I was about to do could go very wrong. But it was the right decision, no matter what. So I took his hand in my own and squeezed it, hoping our pulses drummed along the same beat. “That the unthinkable happened. I met someone special.”
Thank you for reading this book!
The next book in the Young Annabelle Series is…. DON’T STOP HOLDING ME (Y.A Series Book 5), where the drama between Annabelle and James continues….
About the Author
Sarah Tork.
I live in Toronto, Canada with my husband. I’m a 1985 baby and have been writing stories ever since I could hold a pen. I love pens. I love notebooks. I love books. The preferred reaction to my work would be happiness. Here’s hoping I can pull it off.
You can contact me on Facebook and Twitter if you have any questions.
https://www.facebook.com/authorsarahtork
@Sarah_TO1