Resisting the Rebel
Page 23
Mandy’s dad groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Mom, please. If you don’t stop with the swearing…” He sighed, shaking his head, then crossed the room to shake Caleb’s hand. “I’m Mandy’s dad. You must be her date for the dance.”
Every eye in the room zeroed in on him, and Caleb started to sweat. He wasn’t used to this type of scrutiny, and he’d never done this whole dance-date thing before. He cleared his throat as he shook Mr. Pennington’s hand.
“I’m Caleb Torrs. Nice to meet you, sir.”
Reg snorted at the “sir,” and Caleb made a mental note to beat the crap out of him later. Or maybe not, since he was Mandy’s stupid brother.
Mandy’s dad released his hand and sized him up, grinning. “That’s a helluva suit, Caleb. You find it in a thrift store or what?”
“It reminds me of what you wore to prom, Herb,” Mandy’s gran said to her dad. “Those ridiculous lapels.”
“It’s the Travolta suit,” Mandy said proudly. “From Saturday Night Fever.”
“We should take pictures,” her dad said. “Caleb, you go stand next to Mandy. Reg, take some pictures on your phone.”
“Those two are so ugly they’ll crack my screen,” Reg joked.
Mr. Pennington thumped Reg on the back of his head, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Shut up and take the pictures.” He glanced at Caleb, who hadn’t moved. “Go on, son.”
Caleb exhaled a long breath and crossed the room to Mandy, then suddenly remembered the box he held in his hand. “This is for you.” He opened the plastic box and removed the wrist corsage, hating that his hands were shaking. “I remembered you said your dress was green so I—”
She put her hand on his, and he looked up to meet her gaze. “It’s beautiful, Caleb.”
He searched her eyes, overwhelmed by what he saw, which was everything he’d dared to hope he might see someday from her, for him.
“Somebody turn up my oxygen,” Gran said from her chair. “I’m getting dizzy. This is better than the Gilmore Girls.”
…
The Silk Lamp was busy, but only one table was full of people dressed for homecoming. Mandy surveyed her friends, so full of happiness she didn’t know if she could stand it.
Liam and J.T. wore matching powder-blue tuxes with ridiculous ruffled shirts, and matching rhinestone Elton John glasses. Cammie wore a vintage Gunne Sax dress—a torrent of lace ruffles she’d found in her aunt’s closet. She’d added a magenta streak to her dark hair for the occasion. Jiro wore a silly green shiny leisure suit that he’d scored at a thrift shop.
Mandy swooned every time she glanced at her wrist corsage, and her mood ring, which was deep purple, for love. And every time she looked at Caleb, because he rocked that Travolta suit like nobody’s business. While the other guys looked silly, he just looked…edible. His shiny dark hair gleamed in the soft lights, and his hand rested on her knee, occasionally giving her a squeeze that made her tingle.
She’d given him a boutonniere, which was pinned to his Travolta jacket, and something else, too—a stuffed bear she’d made at Build-a-Buddy that morning. The fuzzy bear wore tiny jeans and a tiny fake-leather jacket, with a red satin heart sewn inside, but she was keeping the heart a secret—for now. The bear was perched on the dashboard of his car, as their mascot for the evening.
As her friends laughed and chattered, she met his dark, intense gaze.
“Having a good night, Disco?”
“Having a great night, TDB.”
He smirked and moved his hand to her neck, twining his fingers through a few stray strands from her uptwist, making her forget to breathe. “I know what that stands for now.”
“Because you were eavesdropping.”
He shrugged, smiling wickedly. He’d been all smug and cocky ever since he’d figured out the Tall, Dark, and Broody nickname earlier tonight, when he’d overheard her whispering to Cammie.
“You know I’m going to make you dance all night, right?”
He lifted her disco ball necklace and spun it in his fingers. “Of course.” He slanted her a smile that told her he’d dance with her as much as she wanted.
Their waitress delivered water and sodas, then rushed away, promising to be back soon to take their orders.
“Oh, hey,” J.T. said, “we forgot to ask her to light the candle. Where’s the ambiance?”
“Got it handled, Blue Ranger,” Caleb said, rolling his eyes but reaching into the pocket of the leather jacket draped over the back of his chair. He pulled out his brother’s lighter, pausing before holding it to the candle wick since everyone was staring at him openmouthed.
“What? You guys seriously thought I could light it with my finger?” He scowled at them, perfecting his stormy glare, but his lips quirked, remembering something Mandy had said a while back. “Let me guess? Like Warren Peace in Sky High?”
Cammie’s gaze darted to Mandy, and they both collapsed into giggles.
“We were sort of hoping,” Mandy said through her laughter as he held the lighter to the wick and the flame burst to life.
He leaned back in his chair, smirking at them. “Sorry to disappoint, posse of insanity, but I’m not a superhero.”
“Oh, I disagree,” Mandy said, turning in her chair to face him. “You’re definitely my hero.”
Everyone laughed and groaned. J.T. made fake gagging noises and Cammie tossed a balled-up napkin at them, but Mandy didn’t care. She leaned into him, trailing a finger down his shiny black disco shirt.
His eyes widened and he swallowed, his smirk slipping. “Am I really?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Yeah,” she said, her lips brushing his. “You, Caleb Torrs, are magnificent. And don’t you forget it.”
And suddenly they were kissing…again…and Mandy didn’t care if they got kicked out of her favorite restaurant because she’d finally figured out who the villain was…and who the hero was…even if he couldn’t shoot fire from his fingers.
And she was never breaking up with him again.
For real.
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Acknowledgments
This book was inspired by Sky High, one of my favorite movies, so I send major fangirl love to everyone who brought that movie to life. It’s a fabulous story—except I always thought Warren and Layla were destined for each other, which is why I created Caleb and Mandy.
I have many superheroes to thank for helping me turn this vague idea into a book:
Brilliant critique partners Pamela Mingle and Laura K. Deal, amazing beta readers Katie Robinson and Alexis Johnson, superagent Nicole Resciniti, and my fantastic editor Liz Pelletier, who doesn’t let me sneak anything in that doesn’t belong, no matter how hard I try.
As always, my deepest love and gratitude to my family for supporting my dreams, feeding me when I’m in a writing trance, and always making me laugh.
About the Author
Lisa Brown Roberts still hasn’t recovered from the teenage trauma of nearly tweezing off both eyebrows and having to pencil them in for an entire school year. This and other angst-filled memories inspire her to write YA books about navigating life’s painful and funny dramas, and falling in love along the way. She lives in Colorado in a house full of books, boys, four-legged prima donnas, and lots of laughter. Twitter @LBrownRoberts or visit her at her website, www.lisabrownroberts.com.
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