“I know, I know. That’s what Bernie’s been telling me.” I laughed and turned to search the crowd for Bernie. She was standing next to Lacey, but looking my way so I motioned her over. “I want you to meet Bernie.”
“I’d love to meet all your teammates.” Dad’s gaze scoured the field for this “Bernie” dude.
Bernie slid in next to me looking unsure.
“Mom. Dad. I’d like you to meet Bernie.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and drew her up next to me. “Bernie, these are my parents, April and Brock Gr…uh-Stutterfield.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bernie.” Dad shook her hand.
Mom, on the other hand, threw her arms around Bernie and gave her a big hug. “I feel like I already know you. Grant’s been filling me in on everything.”
“E-everything?” Bernie pulled back, looking alarmed. “I’m not sure—”
“Everything about you helping me with lacrosse and me helping you with the auto shop competition.” I squeezed her waist gently.
“Oh, sure.” Bernie smiled at my parents. “Your son is a sponge with information. And, surprisingly, under his nerd exterior is a great athlete.”
“That sounds like our Grant.”
“Hey, some of the team is even patting me on the butt after a save, so I must be getting good,” I bragged.
“Then I’m looking forward to the next game,” my dad said. And I knew he was, no matter whether we won or lost. But, man, did I want to win. For both of us.
The rest of the week, Bernie and I went full throttle on studying and lax practice. I had a lacrosse game on Friday night and the Texas High School Automotive Technology Competition was on Saturday. We stayed up late with Motown music in the background keeping us moving and inspired. It felt like we’d taken everything to the next level.
The only thing not improving was Bernie’s accordion skills. Sadly, no matter how hard she tried it always sounded like she was torturing a cat.
I played piano and guitar and sang, so maybe I could give her a tip to help.
“It might help to remember, melody on the right; bass on the left,” I offered.
“What?” She squeezed the accordion together, making the bellows howl painfully. “I have no idea what that means!”
“Oh, okay. Then it sounds great!” I gave her two thumbs up. “Keep going!”
It was a good thing she wasn’t trying to win the pageant. Accordion playing was not one of her talents. Which was why her not giving up was even more impressive. I admired that she took time to practice the talent for Lolli even though her priority was the auto competition. That said a lot about who Bernie was.
Before I knew it, it was game time on Friday night. My mom, dad, and Bernie were all in the stands to cheer us on. I had a rough first half. TJ stopped me before I ran on the field for the second half.
“You’ve got this, Grant. You’re fearless in the net.” He grabbed my facemask and looked me firmly in the eyes. “We’ll score as many goals as we can and you stop as many as you can. Deal?”
“Deal.” All I can say is that everything clicked into place in the second half. Everything my teammates had taught me, everything Bernie had coached me on, every one of her eye-hand coordination exercises and her gazillion shots on goal all came together.
I was the Karate Kid catching a fly with chopsticks. I was Phil Connors finally figuring out how to escape Groundhog Day. I was Harry Potter mastering his wand. You know what? Not to brag, but I even think I was Rocky beating Apollo Creed.
I saw every ball like it was in slow motion. I stepped with my lead foot. I was all over my weak side so much that I didn’t have a weak side. I snagged balls from the air right and left. I made a few stellar saves that earned me pats on the butt, punches to my shoulder, and even a “You’re the man, Stutterfield!” Grady was so pumped up after one of my saves that he hit his helmet against mine and told me he loved me.
We won the game 12-5.
Let me just say, winning felt as good as I thought it would.
“Dude, you really stepped up your game.” Grady pointed at me and nodded. “Most of the team is going to the field party. You and Bernie should come.”
“Can’t.” As much as I wanted to experience a field party, that wasn’t going to happen tonight. Tomorrow was our big day. Bernie’s big day. She was counting on me and I wasn’t going to show up tired. This winning feeling that I had tonight, I wanted Bernie to have the same feeling tomorrow. “Maybe next time.”
My parents and Bernie found me as the crowd thinned out. Dad wrapped me up in a big hug. He was so excited he even picked me up off the ground.
“You played a wonderful game, honey.” Mom beamed at me. “You’ve improved so much since your first game! It was like watching a different player.”
“That’s all on account of Bernie.” I realized I was already holding Bernie’s hand. It happened automatically without a single thought. And it felt natural and necessary. “She’s been coaching me for two weeks now.”
“That was all you,” Bernie said.
“I’m guessing it was both of you. It was also fun to watch,” Dad said. “I’m glad I could get away from work to watch it. You’re my boy, blue.”
“Hahaha, Dad. How long have you been waiting for that quote?”
“He’s been waiting forever,” Mom said, rolling her eyes. “It’s a little sad that this was your last game.”
“Man, you’re right.” I can’t believe I forgot that. The team had only needed me for three weeks. Rob had already started back to practice this week. And after tomorrow, my time in Texas was up. Not something I wanted to think about right now.
“Well, consider me a proud parent even if your high school athletic career as a starting goalie only lasted three weeks.”
“Thanks, Dad. Bernie and I are heading back to her place to get a few more hours of studying in.”
“Not too late,” Mom said. “It’ll be a long day for you both tomorrow.”
After I showered and changed in the locker room, Bernie and I headed out, stopping off to grab a pizza to take back to her garage. We were done with hands-on training. So we sat inside Earl while we shared our pizza, reviewed a few highlight items and talked through our plan for tomorrow.
“I think we’re ready,” Bernie said, wiping her mouth and hands with her paper napkin before placing it into the empty pizza box.
I added my own napkin to the box before tossing it out the window.
“I just wanted to thank you again for doing this for me.” Bernie darted her eyes to mine and then away again. “You really went above and beyond with the amount of time and effort you gave to me. It means a lot.”
“Hey, who wouldn’t do that for their girlfriend?”
“Wh-what?” She looked at me with those big eyes of hers. “Your girlfriend?”
I didn’t mean to say that. I shouldn’t have said that. I knew I shouldn’t have said that even though I meant it. Because mom was right when she said I needed to let Bernie know who I was before we took this any further. There was no way I could do that tonight—not the night before the competition. The competition which meant everything to her. That’s why I should’ve kept my mouth shut. As soon as the competition was over, I would tell her.
“Do you know what? This was a dumb conversation for me to start considering what a big day we have tomorrow. So, pretend I didn’t say anything about you being my girlfriend.”
“Oh. Okay, um…sure.” She turned her face away and looked out Earl’s front windshield.
“Bernadette…” I reached out my hand, cupping her cheek to gently turn her face toward mine. “I’ve never met a girl like you. I like everything about you. I like that you’re beautiful and don’t even know it. I like that you’re a better tech than the guys in shop class, but you never brag or put anyone else down. I like that you’re confident and willing to put yourself out there and claim a spot in a man’s world even when they try to crowd you out. I like how much you love your grandmot
hers even when they blackmail you. I like that you share your junk food with me. But I really, really love the way your eyes go from hazel to green and your pulse kicks up when I get close to you.
“I could keep going, but we have to get up early tomorrow morning. And of course, there’s that other thing…”
“What other thing?” Her breath hitched.
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
“Grant?” The pulse in her neck fluttered and her eyes shone like faceted emeralds.
“Yes?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” I closed the space between us, keeping one hand on her cheek and sliding my other hand around to her ponytail. I took it slow, pressing my lips against hers. My heart beat so hard I was sure she could hear it. Every muscle in my chest tightened.
She kissed me back, her soft lips pressing firm against mine and a jolt of intuition hit me again. In that moment, I knew we were meant to be together. Maybe just friends. Maybe more. It sure felt like more.
After one last press of my lips to hers, I pulled away to catch my breath and let Bernie catch hers.
“How about this? How about we focus on tomorrow, you know, beating the pants off of Todd, and then finish this discussion?”
“That sounds like a great plan. I’m in.” She smiled up at me. “I’m all in.”
19
Let’s Do This
Bernie
“Good morning students, sponsors, and proud family members! Welcome to the Texas High School Automotive Technology Competition! Teams… Go to your workstations!”
“We are so ready for this,” I said to Grant as we strode to our first assigned station.
Both my grandmas and Grant’s mom were all in the audience cheering us on. I felt cool and confident. So confident that not even Todd’s condescending smirk from across the room got to me.
“Oh yeah. As Ricky Bobby says, let’s shake and bake.” Grant grinned and raised his hand, ready for a fist bump.
“I don’t know who your friend Ricky Bobby is, but okay.” I fist bumped him back as he laughed at me. “Let’s do this.”
The morning session consisted of three hours of workstations. Each team would rotate to six different workstations. Each station had a judge to administer a specific task. Not only did the three hours fly by, somehow Grant just made it more fun.
We sailed through engine mechanics, steering and suspension, and brakes. I took the lead on the technical issues, and Grant stepped in when it came to memorized charts and facts. Having a teammate with a photographic memory was awesome.
When it came to the job interview station, I may have been passionate about being a technician, but Grant took the interview to a whole new level. His answers were eloquent, prepared and his delivery smooth and engaging. The guy was a natural at this. Thanks to Grant, we aced the job interview workstation.
The few times I got tense, Grant gently squeezed the back of my neck to calm me down or he’d raise his hand for a high five to boost my confidence up. The guy was a rock.
We had an hour for lunch before the afternoon session, and they served us bag lunches in a large conference room while they played videos about career opportunities in the auto industry.
“Hey,” Grant whispered, leaning his shoulder against mine. “I’m totally counting this as our third date.”
“That works for me.” I took a bite of the sub sandwich to hide my smile.
“Which means I get to pick where we go for our fourth date.”
Our fourth date. Yeah, I liked the sound of that. My attention was caught by a loud discussion a few tables over. When I looked, unsurprisingly, it was Todd having heated words with his teammate, Steve.
“Either Todd can’t take pressure,” Grant said. “Or this morning didn’t go well for him.”
“I don’t know. Todd’s a good technician. Sometimes he’s just a jerk for no reason.”
The video ended and one of the judges announced the afternoon session was about to get underway.
We stood, dumped our trash on our way out and found our team’s car out on the arena floor. Each team had an identical Ford vehicle with identical pre-staged problems under the hood. We had three hours to diagnose and repair as many problems as we could.
“This is going to be fun to watch,” Grant said.
“Whoa. Watch? We’re a team.” I gave him a half-amused side eye. “We’re doing this together.”
“Absolutely, but you should see yourself when you get lost in a car’s engine. You get this laser focus and your brain works through and eliminates the options at some speed light years ahead of me. It’s impressive.”
“Thanks.” I narrowed my gaze on him. “For a minute there, I thought you were going to say I was adorable when I worked on cars.”
“Heck, no. Would I say something like that? I believe we’ve already established that you are absolutely not adorable when you work on cars.” He looked away from me but his lips tilted into a small smile. “You’re beautiful. And hot.”
The judges entered the room, took their places where they would monitor their assigned teams, and the “On-Car” Challenge of the competition began.
Rushing to our car, we lowered our protective goggles in place, threw open the hood and reached for the first repair order (RO) to read the short description of why the vehicle was “in for service.” Together, we talked through the possibilities, ran some basic diagnostics and found our first fault. Grant grabbed the manual and looked up the code.
“Blown gasket.” I carefully and quickly filled out the 3-Cs (Concern, Cause, Correction), making sure to put the correct part number we needed before handing it off to Grant.
While he ran it to the parts counter, I started working on the next RO. This one raised a red flag about the throttle position sensor, so I connected the digital volt ohm meter to check. Yep. The sensor was bad. I wrote up the RO for that—making sure to fill out the 3-Cs—and handed it off to Grant who had just come back with the gasket.
Grant and I worked smoothly together. Every time we finished repairing a problem, we high-fived and moved on to the next. We were moving at top speed but keeping safety rules in mind and focusing on our attention to detail.
I felt good by the time they called our last official bathroom break. Grant went off to grab us some water while I made a run for the bathroom. I had just flushed the toilet and was about to exit my stall when the door to the bathroom slammed open as someone else came in. The fact that the voices weren’t female had me pausing in my stall.
“What’s wrong with you?” A man’s voice vibrated with anger. “You’re losing to a girl! A girl! Are you trying to embarrass me? Or are you just stupid?”
“I’m trying.” Todd’s voice.
“Then you need to try harder. Can you imagine how it reflects on me? I taught you everything you know about cars. But my own kid can’t beat a girl in a tech competition.”
“She’s good, Dad.”
“You’re better! You. Will. Be. Better. You will not lose to a girl. Do you hear me?” Todd’s dad snorted his distain. “Oh, hell. Get those tears out of your eyes. Why can’t you be like your brother? He went all the way to Nationals. You’re a loser compared to him.”
“I’m not a loser. No girl’s going to beat me.”
“You better pull it together, you worthless sack of shit.”
What did I just hear? My hands shook and a knot twisted in the pit of my stomach. I’d never heard a parent talk to their kid like that. It was painful to listen to. I couldn’t imagine living with that day in, day out.
I waited until I heard the door swoosh open and closed before exiting the stall. Only, Todd hadn’t left. He stood, leaning on the sink near the door with his shoulders hunched and his head hanging like it was too heavy for his neck.
His head jerked up when the stall door squeaked and our eyes locked in the mirror.
He scrubbed one hand over his eyes, morphing from a bo
y in emotional pain to a puffed-up, sneering bully right before my eyes.
“What are you looking at?” he growled. “What are you doing in here?”
“Using the girl’s bathroom.” I stepped over to a sink, washing my hands quickly so I could get away from Todd and the echoing sound of his dad’s ugly words.
“You didn’t hear anything,” he said, his voice tight, like when you try to hold back tears and it makes your whole throat hurt. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t need or want your pity.”
“I don’t feel pity for you,” I lied, avoiding his eyes as I rushed from the bathroom.
I was still shaking when I rejoined Grant at our car. My insides felt like I was stuck out in an ice storm when brittle cold air freezes your lungs until you think they’ll crack.
We had less than an hour left in the competition but my thoughts were scattered. Pull it together, Jewell. We only have one last problem to repair. Focus. I had to read the repair order twice because I couldn’t push the stark pain in Todd’s eyes or his dad’s voice telling him he was worthless from my head. Worthless. Who says that to their own child? To any child?
Maybe Todd needed this win more than I did. Sure, I needed the scholarship money, but I could work for a year and save up for tech school. I had a father who loved and supported me. Todd…didn’t.
I wouldn’t say I made a conscious decision to throw the contest. But a small voice inside me told me to loosen my grip…ease up… If I made a small mistake that created space for Todd to slide into first place it wouldn’t be the end of my world.
It came down to want vs. need. I wanted the win to prove I was a good mechanic, but my dad and grandmas would love me no matter how I did in the competition.
From what I’d just heard in the bathroom, Todd needed the win more than I did.
What should I do? Give in to instincts and go with my gut? Or keep a cool head, stay strong, and keep my competitive edge?
The Tomboy & The Movie Star: A Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 3) Page 12