Meet Me There

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by Judy Corry




  Meet Me There

  A Ridgewater High Novel

  Contents

  1. Ashlyn

  2. Luke

  3. Ashlyn

  4. Luke

  5. Ashlyn

  6. Luke

  7. Ashlyn

  8. Luke

  9. Ashlyn

  10. Luke

  11. Ashlyn

  12. Luke

  13. Ashlyn

  14. Luke

  15. Ashlyn

  16. Luke

  17. Ashlyn

  18. Luke

  19. Ashlyn

  20. Luke

  21. Ashlyn

  22. Luke

  23. Ashlyn

  24. Luke

  25. Ashlyn

  26. Luke

  27. Ashlyn

  28. Luke

  29. Ashlyn

  30. Luke

  31. Ashlyn

  32. Luke

  33. Ashlyn

  34. Ashlyn

  35. Luke

  36. Ashlyn

  Epilogue

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  READ THE NEXT BOOK IN THIS SERIES: DON’T FORGET ME

  SNEAK PEEK AT DON’T FORGET ME

  Chapter TWO

  COMING SPRING 2018

  ALSO BY JUDY CORRY

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Copyright © 2018 by Judy Corry

  ISBN-13: 978-1986244091

  ISBN-10: 1986244091

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design by Victorine E. Lieske

  Edited by Precy Larkins

  For my daughter Janelle

  1

  Ashlyn

  Breaking up with Noah was a good thing. I gave my reflection a pep talk one more time before leaving the locker room. You made the right choice. Life is better without him.

  I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm my first-day-of-school jitters. My blonde hair looked okay after being in a ponytail for this morning's 6:30 a.m. drill team practice. My blue eyes were maybe a little tired looking, but that was to be expected since I'd slept terribly last night. At least my new outfit rocked—an awesome floral printed blouse with dark skinny jeans. It had felt like Christmas when I'd found the last shirt in my size at Chic Girl Boutique. Being a tall girl made it hard to find shirts that fit my long torso just right.

  I inspected myself one last time before pulling my bag over my shoulder and leaving the deserted locker room. All the other drill team girls had left five minutes ago, excited to see everyone again after summer break.

  I made it to the top of the stairs that led away from the gym, and then scanned the hall. There were different clusters of students standing around, but no Noah.

  Good. I breathed a sigh of relief. Last year, when we were still together, he'd always wait for me in the mornings. It was nice he'd decided to change his routine as well. If I was lucky, I might be able to avoid seeing him all morning. Juniors and seniors didn't usually have many classes together, so if I could figure out a way to avoid him at lunch I wouldn’t have to see him at all.

  I was walking into the main hall when I saw a poster that made my stomach drop.

  No!

  I rushed forward and ripped the paper from the wall. There was only one person in this school who would do something like this.

  I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill Luke Davenport.

  I stared at the flyer. There was a hand-drawn picture that I assumed was supposed to look like me, since my name stood out in big, bold letters right above it. It looked like a seven-year-old’s art project.

  BOYFRIEND WANTED

  For: Ashlyn Brooks

  Junior. 5'8"ish. Dancer. Blonde hair. Blue or Green Eyes. (I think)

  He was starting this up again? I shook my head and read over the headline once more. He didn't even do his research before posting the ridiculous thing. I was five-foot-nine and my eyes were most definitely blue. No, I didn't have one green eye and one blue eye like this hideous portrait suggested—something he might notice if he ever took the time to actually look at me instead of pulling these annoying pranks.

  But he’d been pulling pranks like this since last spring. It all started when he slipped extra baking soda in my cake during Foods class—and all because I grabbed the last non-flowery apron, leaving him to look like a field of daisies exploded all over his front. One prank led to another, and before long, we were in a war—a friendly war, anyway. I thought he'd forget about our rivalry over the summer, but apparently, he still had nothing better to do with his time. We'd always kept our pranks fairly harmless, but this…this was going too far. How long had these flyers been up? And how many people had seen them? Had Noah seen them and thought I had posted them? I was going to throw up.

  I read the rest of the flyer.

  Seeking guys with the following qualifications:

  Happy to commit. (Good ol’ ball and chain.)

  Loves to pamper his girl.

  Tall, dark, and handsome preferred, but short and squatty are OK.

  Must love shopping for hours at Chic Girl Boutique.

  Must be fine with watching chick flicks over football.

  If interested, call Ashlyn at 315-555-7892

  Or wait for me by my black Mercedes after school for your interview.

  My jaw dropped. He actually put my real number on there. I crumpled the flyer in a ball and looked down the hall bustling with students. There were identical ads taped on lockers all along the row. My face flushed with heat as I rushed down the tiled floor, knowing I only had a couple of minutes before the bell rang. I didn’t want to be late for my first class. I ripped down sign after sign, going down the main hall as fast as I could in three-inch wedges.

  The warning bell rang.

  No!

  I made one mad dash, ripping the last flyer down before the hall was completely full of students rushing to their first-period classes. I threw the offending flyers in the trash and headed to my locker to grab my History notebook.

  My friend and next-door neighbor, Eliana, saw me as soon as I turned the corner.

  "Did you see them?" Eliana asked in a hushed tone, her blue eyes searching mine for signs of a freak-out.

  I nodded. "Just barely. I took down as many as I could on my way here."

  "Me too. Your brother and I started yanking them down as soon as we got here, but we could only get the ones in this hall."

  I opened my locker, resisting the urge to punch it. "Why does Luke keep doing this? Doesn't he have anyone else he can annoy?"

  Eliana leaned her barely five-foot frame against her locker, her notebooks hugged to her chest. Her dad was from Italy and her mom was from here, so she looked gorgeous with her darker features and light eyes. "I have no idea, but we definitely need to get him back good this time."

  "For real." He'd taken these pranks to a new level of public humiliation. He needed some public humiliation himself.

  My brother Jess walked up behind us then. "Do you want me to take care of Luke this time?" he asked in his protective, older-brother voice.

  "No. You don't need to get involved. But I’m open to suggestions for revenge."

  Jess checked his watch. "The late bell is gonna ring in a minute, but we'll talk more about this after school." He lo
oked at Eliana. "See you at Math Club?"

  She nodded, and then Jess left us.

  "You guys have Math Club on the first day of school?"

  Eliana shrugged. "Not officially. But since Jess and I are in charge this year, he figured we should go over some stuff with Miss Maloney today if we could."

  I couldn't keep a grin from spreading across my cheeks. "You guys are such nerds."

  "And proud of it!" She grinned back. "Anyway, I better get to class. But I'll grab any flyers I see on my way. Sorry about this. Luke went overboard this time."

  I was almost to my History classroom when I spotted the devil himself. Luke was leaning against the wall as if he'd been waiting for me to walk by. It wouldn't surprise me if he'd stolen my class schedule from the office. When our eyes met, a smirk lifted his lips. He pushed himself off the wall and his long legs fell into step next to mine.

  "How's your first day going?" he asked.

  "Fabulously," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Pretty much a dream. I've always wanted to see a cartoon version of my face plastered all over the school. Did you draw that picture yourself?"

  He grinned. "No, actually my neighbor was selling her art on the sidewalk last weekend and her picture reminded me so much of you I had to buy it."

  I wanted to smack that smug look off his face. How could a guy who looked so cute and innocent be so devious? It wasn't fair. Guys should come with a warning label. I mean, I could've saved myself a lot of trouble last year if Noah's cover had matched his inside.

  "It was great to see you again as always, Luke," I said when we reached my destination. "Oh, and my eyes are blue, for future reference."

  He stopped and peered into my eyes for a moment, his own brown ones catching me by surprise. Had they always had that much gold mixed in with them?

  "Ah, yes, blue," he said, his warm minty breath tickling my face. "I'll have to tell my neighbor so she can get it right next time. You wouldn't happen to know what your blood type is, would you?"

  My stomach lurched. "My blood type?"

  The smirk was back on his lips. "Totally joking there."

  I slugged him in the arm—a very well-defined arm. No wonder he was the football captain this year. He probably worked out in all of his free time to get so sculpted. He definitely hadn't been so big last spring. He seemed taller as well. He had to be at least six-two or six-three.

  I shook my head, hoping he hadn't noticed my lingering gaze. He was still rubbing his arm where I'd hit him. That made me smile. Who says dancers aren't tough? "You better hurry to your class before the bell rings. I'll look forward to planning our next meeting."

  He raised an eyebrow. "By ‘meeting,’ you mean your next form of revenge?"

  "Of course."

  His grin spread wider. For some reason, one I couldn't understand, Luke seemed to be looking forward to my participation in the pranking game again.

  Deciding I'd have to figure him out later, I turned on my heel to find my seat in U.S. History.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. There were about a dozen missed text messages and five missed calls, all from numbers I didn't recognize.

  315-555-2934: UR hot. I'll be your boyfriend.

  315-555-2345: I'll dump my girlfriend 4 you.

  315-555-9723: meet me in the maintenance closet @ lunch 4 a good time.

  The rest of the texts were along the same lines. Who in their right mind would think I'd be interested in any of those things? Oh yeah, guys who thought the ad was actually real.

  I’m going to kill Luke Davenport.

  I was barely able to concentrate on my classes the rest of the morning because I kept getting texts. Most of them were from total idiots, but there were a few that seemed sincere. Had every guy at school seen the ads? There couldn't be that many guys interested in dating me. It's not like I was that popular. Maybe Luke put all his friends up to this. I wouldn't put it past him. I mean, no guy in their right mind would actually be interested in filling the "boyfriend wanted" spot, given those outrageous requirements on the flyer.

  If my phone was this popular during class, what the heck was I supposed to do during lunch? Jess and Eliana's meeting would probably take forever. And without them, I didn't have anyone else to hang out with since I'd always been with Noah. If I sat at a table by myself, Luke's buddies might try "helping" his plan along even further.

  The bell rang, and I fully planned to join Jess and Eliana in their meeting today. I could pretend to be a Mathlete. It might be kind of nice to have built-in tutors everywhere.

  I took my time packing up my things from Ceramics. If I waited in here for a few minutes, then I wouldn’t have to run into Noah during lunch.

  But Noah must have had the same idea because when I stepped out into the hall, I came face to face with my ex for the first time since our breakup. My breath caught in my throat. He looked even better than he had when we were dating. And not seeing him in two months hadn't changed anything about my body's reaction to him. He still had the same dark brooding brown eyes and auburn hair with a slight curl in it.

  He seemed to take in my appearance as well, and I couldn't help but wonder what he thought about seeing me again.

  "Saw your boyfriend-wanted posters this morning," he said in his deep, gravelly voice. "Having a hard time getting along without me?"

  I flushed, my brain scrambling for a response. "I didn't put those flyers up."

  He crossed his arms and chuckled. "Yeah, well, if anybody tries to fill the ad, I'll tell them not to waste their time."

  My eyes instantly burned at his words and the memories they evoked. I had put up with so much while we dated, and now I was a waste of time?

  I pinched my eyes shut and sucked in a quick breath, willing the tears to stay inside. I couldn't let Noah know his words had any effect on me. He didn't deserve to have that kind of power over me anymore.

  "Goodbye, Noah." I whirled around and walked away, knowing I wouldn't be able to keep the tears at bay for much longer.

  "See ya."

  While Luke Davenport was mostly annoying, Noah Taylor was the bad habit I'd broken too late.

  2

  Luke

  "Thank you, Mr. Sawyer, for never locking this room," I whispered under my breath as I slipped into the dark Chemistry lab and sat down on the floor beside the door. I felt like a coward hiding in here during lunch, but I was going to explode if one more stranger came up and told me how sorry they were to hear about my mom dying this summer. Sure, posting those "boyfriend wanted" posters for Ashlyn had distracted everyone for a while, but apparently, our school counselor thought I was "acting out." And to help me "grieve" in a more appropriate way, she had rallied a committee of do-gooders to try and cheer me up.

  But I didn't need a bunch of girls looking at me with their sad, pitying eyes, trying to get me to talk about my "feelings." These pranks had been awesome last year when my mom was sick, why shouldn't they help me now?

  My stomach growled, reminding me it was there. I smothered it with my arms.

  Just a few more minutes and I could sneak out to my Jeep to grab some lunch.

  I was about to stand when the door opened, and someone tripped over my sprawled legs.

  Oof!

  "Sorry!" a female voice squealed as she landed on me.

  A girl? Had one of those do-gooders followed me here? How many people had the school counselor told?

  I tried to help the girl get up, but it was so dark and there were no windows here—our heads crashed together instead.

  "Ouch!" she said.

  "Sorry." I rubbed my forehead where our skulls had collided.

  We righted ourselves, and I leaned back against the wall of cupboards behind us. She scooted a few feet away.

  We sat in silence for a few moments until I heard her sniffling like she was trying not to cry.

  "Are you okay? Did my head hurt you?" She sniffled again, so I asked, "Are you crying?"

  "No," she said, her voice uneven. "
I'm just hiding from a stupid jerk."

  There was something familiar about her voice.

  I couldn't have everyone at school knowing the football captain hid in the Chemistry lab during lunch, so I lowered my voice, just in case this was someone I knew. "Who's the jerk?"

  Okay, it sounded like I had a bad cold, but hopefully, I hadn't said enough earlier for her to notice the difference. Was it too late to start using my fake British accent? I was excellent at impersonations. Random talent, but it did come in handy sometimes.

  "Nobody important," she said.

  Okay, so some dude made her cry. She probably wouldn't want to be in the same room as me after hearing what I'd done that morning. Luckily for me though, Ashlyn hadn't cried. She was too mad to do that. Boy, was I going to be in trouble once she figured out how to get me back. She always came back with something strong.

  "If it makes you feel better, I think he's a jerk too." I tried to make it sound like I was joking, but somehow my fake British accent slipped out when I said those words. Oh well, not like it mattered. We were sitting in the dark, and I'd be leaving soon anyway.

  She laughed, and I felt like I'd been hit by a sack of rocks. I knew that laugh. I'd heard that sweet melodic sound about a billion times last year in Foods class.

 

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