The Tomboy & The Movie Star: A Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 3)

by M. L. Collins

  How’s that? Distracting.

  “Mmm hmm.” I’d been working with Grant for a week now, but never this close. I was plastered up against his tall body and his deep brown eyes and his one-dimpled smile and that dryer sheet and fresh breeze scent and I almost forgot what we were doing. Almost. Flicking my gaze at him and away, I held the tool ready as I peered down to look. “Um, can you narrow the beam?”

  “Sure. Has anyone told you that you have very pretty eyes?” he said, adjusting the light.

  My hands froze. Because no one—well, no guy—had ever told me that. No guy who wasn’t related to me had ever given me a compliment about my looks. Ever. So obviously, I had no idea how to react. “Yeah, well, has anyone told you that you smell good?”

  “What?” Grant laughed.

  “Nothing. I mean, I don’t know. Whatever.” I jerked my gaze back down to the emergency at hand before I made an even bigger idiot of myself.

  “Bernie, look at me,” he said, his deep voice vibrated through me all the way down to my toes.

  “I’m kind of busy here,” I said, having a very hard time keeping my hands steady, thanks to Grant and his pretty eyes comment. Geez, what was his problem?

  “Bernadette, please look at me.”

  “Fine.” I huffed out a breath and lifted my head to look. Our faces were a foot apart. “What?”

  “I have no idea what’s wrong with the guys around here, but that wasn’t me being sarcastic. I was being totally sincere.” His lips tilted up at the corners the smallest bit. “The brown in your eyes is rich and warm but up close you’ve got hidden facets of emerald green streaking through shining like jewels in the sun.”

  “Hazel,” I whispered. “They’re just hazel.”

  “They’re not just hazel. They’re beautiful,” he repeated, his own eyes warm and friendly. “Do you really think I smell good?”

  “Oh, man. I’ll pay you five dollars to pretend I never said that.” Fire spread through my cheeks so hot that Grant could probably get a sunburn if he stood too close. Like he was.

  “I don’t think so. I’m keeping that compliment.” He grinned. “But I’ll shut up now so you can save us from my mistake.”

  “O-okay. That’d be good.” I leaned back over the engine, using all my concentration to refocus on the lost bolt. “Can you move the flashlight to the left?”

  “Better?” His deep voice sounded in my ear and his clean laundry scent wrapped around me.

  Focus, Bernie. Shut out the cute nerd and focus.

  “A little more left. There. Hold it there.” I peeked down inside the cylinder. “I don’t see it, but hopefully it didn’t roll too far.”

  Lowering the magnet, I eased up when it hit the bottom so it could gently bend into the curve hoping I didn’t push the bolt further in. When I heard a slight click, I carefully raised the magnet back out, smiling wide to see the bolt along for the ride.

  “Nice work,” Grant said, lifting his hand in the air for a high five as we both straightened up.

  “This wasn’t my first lost bolt rodeo.” I might not know what to do with a compliment, but I knew high fives. I’d been high-fiving guys since I was six. This was a language I could speak. So I slapped his hand in response.

  Only he changed the rules. Before I could pull my hand away, his fingers intertwined with mine and held on. It was an extra connection I wasn’t ready for. His hand was strong and warm around mine.

  He held on until I looked into his eyes and we stood there, hands clasped, eye to eye, and it felt like the world around us came to a screeching halt.

  “You doing anything this weekend?” he asked, finally letting go of my hand.

  “W-why?”

  “I thought maybe we could see each other.”

  “Me and you?” I cleared my throat. “I’m pretty busy this weekend. I’ve got the thing at school—”

  “The showcase?” he asked.

  “Yes, my friend and I are going. And I, um, promised my grandma I’d do stuff, and then I’ve got, you know, other stuff.” I couldn’t sound more ridiculous if I tried. But I was sure if I didn’t end this convo soon—I’d manage it. “Glad we got this fixed. I’ve got to go…um…”

  “Do stuff?” Grant asked, a gentle smile on his face.

  “Right. Exactly right, and I’m late.” I shoved the magnet and flashlight into his hands and left as fast as I could, ducking into the nearest girl’s bathroom. I washed my hands at a sink while I pulled myself together. The thing was…no boy had asked me out before. Not like that. And I was totally, completely freaking out.

  The sound of multiple toilets flushing and stall doors opening caught my attention.

  “Jewell, what do I keep telling you?” Breanna Smith moved to the sink next to me and proceeded to do a seriously bad job at washing her hands while she stared at my reflection in the mirror with mocking eyes. “You don’t belong in here. The boy’s bathroom is down the hall.”

  “Yeah,” one of Breanna’s friends joined in. “Notice the lack of urinals in here, freak.”

  Right. I’d forgotten why I usually used the bathroom on the other side of school. I left without saying a word.

  Well, that run-in with Breanna and her friends brought me clarity and the end to my freak out. To be honest, deep down I knew the whole time. Grant hadn’t really asked me out. Not on a date. Whatever. I had stuff to go do.

  5

  Just a Regular Teenager

  Grant

  “So, how do you like being a regular teenager?” Mom asked at breakfast Monday morning.

  “Let me say, movie stereotypes of awkward nerds aren’t that far off.” I chased a marshmallow football around my cereal bowl with my spoon. “But even though I’ve had kids ignore me, push me around, slap signs on my back—yes, kids actually do that—snicker and laugh at me, and outright insult me…I love it. The first week went by too fast.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s because you ate yourself into a sugar coma on junk food.” Mom laughed and shook her head as she watched me scarf down a second bowl of Cookies & Charms cereal in amused awe.

  “Do you think I’m going overboard?” I paused with my spoon half-way to my mouth.

  “I don’t. You will never get me to admit this to Frank or anyone else on your team, but I love that you’re doing this.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I really do. You’ve been working since you were eight years old. You’re the most dedicated, driven person I’ve ever known.” Mom moved over to the coffee machine and refilled her mug before turning back to me. “You know your dad and I support you in every way, but we’ve been worried too.”

  “Worried? You two have always been there with me. Been there for me.” I tilted my head, not sure what she meant. “You interviewed and selected my team carefully.”

  “We absolutely did. What I mean is we worry that you’ve missed out on the little things. Normal things like a normal kid. So, this is fun for us too. Fun to watch you get to experience a normal life even if you had to go incognito to do it.”

  “Thanks, mom. Speaking of incognito—some guy at school recognized me at the showcase at school on Friday night.”

  “Oh, no.” Mom’s eyes went wide and she gripped the counter with her hands. “So that’s it? You only had a week? I’m sorry, Grant.”

  “No, I think I’m okay. He didn’t say anything when he recognized me.”

  “I’m amazed he did recognize you. I barely recognize you what with the contacts, extra pounds, and different hair style.”

  “Extra pounds?” I laughed and patted my stomach. “Okay, fine. Maybe a couple two, three or five pounds. But you know I’ll take it off.”

  Of course, I’d probably have to do two-a-day workouts next month to make that happen. Nothing new when I was preparing for a role. Part of being Kingsly Grant was keeping my muscled physique. Which I did with the help of my trainer and my nutritionist. Plus when I set goals, I went all-in on achieving them. I’d been working out regularly
and eating squeaky clean for four years now. That’s a long time without junk food. Which was why I was ignoring the menu plan from Stu and giving in to the junk-food loving kid I’d kept in check for years.

  “I do. I was kidding about the weight. To be honest, I’ve had fun baking for you again.”

  “I sure have missed your baking. You haven’t baked since we hired Stu and he cut out sugar, flour, and anything remotely fun,” I said. It wasn’t Stu’s fault. It was what I paid him for. Hollywood was competitive, and if an actor wanted to star in leading roles, they had to be willing to put in the hard work, on the set and off. “Anyway, I’m going to talk to the guy after school today.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Mom said. “Don’t forget—”

  “What is that glorious smell?” I slid from my stool at the island, dropped my bowl into the dishwasher, and moved to the oven to peek in. “Monkey bread? You made monkey bread?”

  “Oh, I almost forgot it!” Mom grabbed up a set of oven mitts, brushed me out of the way, and removed the cake pan. She flipped it out upside down on a plate and drizzled the whole beautiful thing with a cinnamon glaze. “There you go.”

  “Second breakfast!” I gave her a side arm hug while I spooned myself up a generous helping. She handed me a fork and I made quick work of it right where I stood. “Mmmm, Mom. Amazing. I haven’t had this in years. Too bad Dad isn’t here to share it.”

  “Ha! You don’t look like you want to share.” Mom shook her head. “I’ll just make another when he comes in two weeks.”

  Dad was a lawyer out in L.A. so he hadn’t been able to come to Texas with us for the full month. Since Mom now ran my charity foundation, she could do that from anywhere.

  “I’ve got to get to school, although…I’ve never been tardy. That might be fun to experience.” I side-eyed Mom to see her reaction and sure enough she gave me her eagle-eyed stare. “Or not. I’m out.”

  “Don’t forget your lunch.” She tipped her head over to the brown bag on the counter. “Made as requested. One PB&J sandwich, ranch potato chips, two Little Debbie dessert rolls and a bag of Skittles.”

  “Stu and Alison would have a heart attack if they knew what I was eating.” I couldn’t stop my grin as I grabbed the lunch. Like I said, it was completely my choice that I’d been eating healthy and super-clean. But since I was taking a vacation from my top box-office selling movie star life, I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip by.

  I wanted to slurp up bowls of sugary cereal and doughnuts for breakfast. Enjoy fast food with French fries for lunch, sit in the bleachers while I munched on popcorn and rainbow colored candies. Eat one of my mom’s carb-loaded casseroles for dinner followed by a huge dish of caramel covered ice cream for dessert. Was it wrong to want a taste of what I’d been giving up the last four years? Ha. Taste… See what I did there?

  This wasn’t about regretting my life choices. Not at all. Every step on my path as an actor had been my choice. I didn’t have pushy stage parents. In fact, my parents had sacrificed a lot to help support me and my dreams. Big sacrifices, like moving from Texas, where they both grew up, to L.A. when I starred in my first TV show at eight.

  “Speaking of Alison, she texted me twice last week asking if you were okay.” Mom raised one eyebrow at me. “She’s worried.”

  “Well, shoot. I forgot about the workouts.” I grabbed my backpack. “I don’t want to worry her. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Don’t forget we need to sit down together one night this week to finish looking through the grant requests and decide on this year’s charity donations.”

  “I’m not forgetting. I’m looking forward to that,” I said. “Off to school. Hey, maybe I should go for the full high school experience and get detention.”

  “You could… But then your father and I would have to ground you to get the full experience.”

  “Ha!” Game, set, and match to my mom. She was onto my teasing ways and usually gave back as good as I gave her. “So no detention then.”

  I had another interesting day at school. Since it was “B” day, I didn’t have shop with Bernie. And the few times I saw her throughout the day, she seemed to disappear as soon as she saw me. It happened in the cafeteria, and in the locker bay, and even when I tried to say hello when I saw her at her locker between fifth and sixth period. It almost felt like she was avoiding me, but why would she do that? Unless she was mad that I’d almost killed our engine for the third time.

  By the time the last bell of the day rang, I had to stop thinking about Bernie and track down the guy Grady.

  I walked out to the student parking lot with my head on a swivel looking for him.

  “Grant!” Shani and Ro, my new friends from English class, stood behind a mini Cooper. “Do you need a ride? We’re on our way to bowling practice, but we have time to drop you off somewhere.”

  “Actually, I’m looking for a guy named Grady. He played guitar in the showcase over the weekend. Any chance you know him?”

  “Grady Burnett. Wasn’t he great? He’s a nice guy too.”

  “Do you know where I might find him?” I asked, casually.

  “Wherever Lacey Trueheart is,” Shani answered, making Ro giggle. “But seriously, he’s on the lacrosse team.”

  “If you don’t see him in the parking lot, he’ll be at the lower practice field,” Ro said, pointing off to the left behind the school.

  “Great.”

  “Is it something we can help you with?” Shani asked.

  “Thanks, but no. I just need to confirm something that came up in a conversation I had with him.” If Grady Burnett recognized me like I thought he did, I needed to see if he’d keep my secret. If not, my vacation was over.

  I looked around the lot while I walked to my car to store my backpack. After giving it a few minutes without seeing him, I followed Ro’s directions down to the lacrosse field and found Grady. As soon as he saw me, his eyes went wide and he sprinted over to meet me.

  “Grady, right?” I asked. We stood face to face, eying each other carefully.

  “That’s me.” He peered closer at my face. “The question is…who are you?”

  6

  Who Are You?

  Grant

  The question is…who are you?

  “I’m not sure how…but I think you already know,” I said, raising my eyebrows at him and staring him in the eyes.

  “Dude, this is cool.” His gaze did an up-and-down over me. “Kingsly Grant.”

  “How did you know? I thought my disguise was good. Subtle, but good.”

  “It is. You’re sort of rocking the bro Thor look.” Grady grinned at me.

  “Ha! Well, right now I’m Grant Stutterfield and I’m enjoying not being King for a few weeks.” I glanced to the field where the rest of the team was preparing for practice. “You think other people will figure it out too?”

  “Nah. Seriously, the dark contacts alone sort of do it. I only recognized you because I happen to have one of the few copies sold of the never-hit-wonder boy group, Nick & Pals.”

  “Get out.” I burst out laughing. Sometime between the long-running TV show I grew up on and my first movie role, I was in a boy band for five minutes. “Hardly anyone even knows about that. Why would you have a copy? It was pretty bad.”

  “I agree, it was pretty bad. The lead singer—Nick—yeah, he was horrible. But the band’s guitarist? That guy had talent. I watched a few of your videos over and over, trying to copy your style on stage when I was first learning to perform.”

  “I heard you in the showcase. You’re good,” I said. “You’re a better guitar player than I ever was.”

  “Thanks.” Grady nodded once. “So what are you doing at Jackson? Is this some PR stunt for Seventeen Summers?”

  “No. I guess it’s a combination of research and…a vacation.”

  “Research?” he asked.

  “My next movie is set in high school—”

  “Heard that.” Grady shrugged. “The local ne
ws even showed up.”

  “Sorry. Or you’re welcome. Whichever way you feel about it. I’m doing some research because I’ve been tutored almost my whole life. I figured I needed to experience high school to portray it accurately.” My gaze roamed over the scene in front of me from the players on the field, over to a group of cheerleaders practicing on the track, and up to the metal bleachers scattered with a handful of students. “The cliques, classes, clubs, sports—all of it.”

  “All of it, huh? Awesome.” Grady wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me toward the field. “You’ll want to experience playing a team sport then. It so happens, we’re short a goalie.”

  “What?” I laughed. “I have no idea how to play lacrosse, let alone goalie.”

  “Dude, you’re like six foot and change. Even if all you do is stand in front of the goal, you’ll block half the shots.”

  My watch sounded, reminding me I still had to deal with the workouts.

  “Sorry, Grady, I can’t help.” I stopped walking and stared down at my watch. “I’ve got to deal with this.”

  “What is that?” He leaned in for a look. “Oh, man, is that one of those Garmin workout watches? Coach has one and it’s lit. What do you mean you have to deal with it?”

  “My trainer is a little obsessive and she’s freaking out that I haven’t been doing my workouts. I wasn’t planning on working out on vacation, but…” I looked at Grady with a shrug. “Sorry—”

  “Not so fast, Stutterfield. I believe we can help each other. You fill in for goalie—”

  “I’m only here for three more weeks,” I said.

  “Perfect timing. That’s all we need since that’s how long our goalie’s out. So, you fill in for our injured goalie and I’ll handle your workouts.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Watch and learn,” he said, dragging me the rest of the way to the field and over to the coach. “Coach, I’ve got our new goalie while Rob’s out with his broken leg.”