Dating: On the Rebound
Page 2
Shaking my head, I turned back to Tierney. She’d already sat down at the table in the middle of the room. In the chair closest to the wall, of course. Whatever. I didn’t care. I had bigger things to worry about than uptight chicks with confidence issues. There wasn’t anything less attractive to me than a girl who lacked confidence. I’d been raised in a family of lawyers. Confidence. Pride. Reputation. Those were values to live by in the Jacobs family.
Mr. McGowan had already begun speaking by the time I hooked my backpack onto the back of my chair and finally took a seat. Copies of the class syllabus were making their way around the room. I took two and slid one toward Tierney without even looking in her direction. Her hair still separated her face from the rest of the world so it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I tuned out Mr. McGowan and began reading the syllabus. It looked like Tierney and I weren’t just partners for labs, but almost every assignment for the entire semester would be a joint effort.
Shit.
Without turning my head, I tuned in to the girl sitting beside me. I might not have been able to see her face, but from the heat radiating off her body, I’d bet my favorite basketball it was a fiery red. Her shoulders were hunched, her body angled away from me, and her breath came in short little bursts.
What was this? Kindergarten? I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Did I have cooties or something and not know about it? Not to be cocky or anything, but I’d never had any complaints before. In my experience, most girls would sell their makeup collection to be my lab partner and here Tierney was acting like I was diseased.
It didn’t matter what she thought, we were going to have to make this work. I had too much on the line this year and a skittish lab partner wasn’t going to ruin anything for me. I wouldn’t let her. I was smart, socially aware, and mostly a nice guy, I could handle Tierney Hiatt and keep my GPA up so I graduated at the top of our class.
Failure was not an option.
Mr. McGowan was still going over the syllabus almost word for word from the printed version in front of me. I hated it when teachers did that. Like we couldn’t read or something.
I let my mind wander, thinking about the summer. I’d spent most of my days playing basketball with the guys and working on volunteer hours and citizenship experiences for college and scholarship applications. The pressure was on to get into my father’s alma mater, Notre Dame.
In addition to basketball and planning my future, I’d also broken up with my longtime girlfriend, Trina Davis. Trina. What a train wreck. On the outside, we were the perfect couple. Both smart. Both in Honors or AP classes. I played basketball. Trina was on the dance team. I was good looking. She was gorgeous. We were popular, successful, and completely expected.
And at first, our relationship had been amazing. Easy, even. Trina was motivated and involved and didn’t need me hanging on her every minute of the day. It was a good thing, because clingy was not my style. I was an only child; I was used to having my own space. For months everything was golden.
In fact, we’d been good for more than a year before Trina went psycho. And I’m talking full blown crazy town. Talking about the future and how it would be when we got married and she couldn’t wait to follow me to Notre Dame until I was like, whoa, slow down there lady. For crying out loud, we were only in high school. As much as I liked Trina and there was no denying the girl was beautiful, I had no intention of marrying her, or anyone, for a long, long time.
Then two weeks before school started, she was really laying on the pressure. We were at the mall and she wanted to look at promise rings at the jewelry store. I had to fight off a panic attack. The perfect girl was turning into a perfect nightmare. That evening when I pulled into her driveway to drop her off, instead of making out until her dad came to knock on the window, I broke up with her.
She took it about as well as a cat took a bath. If I’d had any doubts that Trina was a lunatic, the next hour and every subsequent day since then had dispelled them. Trina was off the charts crazy. If I didn’t think it’d make me look like a wuss, I’d get a restraining order. The girl never stopped. She texted me all day. Called every night. Showed up around every corner. She was determined we were going to get back together. But that was never going to happen. I was done with Trina, and for that matter, I was done with girls for a while. I had a lot on my plate already. I didn’t need any more visits from crazy town and I was starting to think all girls were secret citizens of that place.
There were ten minutes left in class and Mr. McGowan wanted us to talk to our partners, getting to know each other bull crap. All around us conversations began, but for some reason Tierney was still giving me the cold shoulder. I figured it was up to me to get the ball rolling.
I cleared my throat and turned in my seat to face her. “So, uh, Tierney. How was your summer?” Inwardly, I rolled my eyes at myself. What a lame conversation starter.
She didn’t move, not even a fraction, but at least she answered. “Fine.”
Really?
This was stupid. But for some reason, I couldn’t let it go. It rankled that she was acting this way. I was a nice guy, right?
“My summer was awesome. Thanks for asking.” Two could play at this game. If she could be rude, so could I.
At least she had the good grace to look at me after that, but just barely. I watched as her delicate hand slid up to tuck her hair behind her ear. Her cheek was red and her eyes jumped, glancing at me, then the desk in front of her. Me again, before settling on the stack of books in front of her.
Books.
Maybe I could ask her about what she was reading. Before I could think better of it, I snatched the yellowing paperback off the top of the stack on her side of the table.
“Whatcha reading?” I asked as I read the title and got a look at the cover. “Whoa.” What the hell was she reading?
Distracted as I was by the half naked lady on the front, it registered that if I wanted to get a reaction out of Tierney? Take her book. The girl was pissed.
“Hey!” Tierney jumped down from her stool and reached for the book.
Hunching my shoulders, I turned my back to her, my eyes glued to the cover. Holy smokes!
“Noah, give that back,” Tierney hissed, her lips close to my ear as she leaned over my shoulder, making a grab for the book.
I held the book in front of me away from her but giving us both a good view. “That’s the kind of guy you like, huh?” I smirked pointing to the- what was he supposed to be? A pirate? The dude had a patch over his eye and was wearing this white shirt that billowed. Billowed? I didn’t even know I knew that word. But that’s exactly the word to describe that guy’s shirt. His hair billowed, too, but I figured floated was a better adjective for hair. And he looked about thirty-five years old. A ripped thirty-five, but still. “Check out those abs.” I couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped my lips. Tierney had the hots for older guys with shirts that billowed?
“Give. Me. Back my book,” she muttered through clenched teeth as she skirted around my body, lunging for the book, her face an unhealthy shade of red.
I whirled around on my stool, showing her my back once again. I turned the book over and read the blurb on the back out loud. “Lady Clarissa Blackthorn was bored with her aristocratic life. She loathed the drawing room and longed for adventure. What the hell is a drawing room?” I asked before continuing, completely ignoring Tierney stewing over my shoulder. “When she is taken from her father’s carriage on the way to London for the Season, she gets more adventure than she bargained for.” I paused and glanced up at Tierney who’d moved to stand in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest. “Oooh, I’m hooked already.” I held the book up again. “Can I borrow this when you’re finished?”
“Very funny.” Tierney snatched the book from my hand and I let her. There were only a few minutes left in class. Leaning my elbow on the table at my side, I propped my head in my hand and watched her.
Besides the red cheeks, there was a pinch betwe
en her brows that matched the scowl curling her lips. Irritated was a fetching look on Tierney I decided. Fetching? I didn’t know I knew that word either, but it fit. Whatever. It just became my new life’s work to irritate my lab partner.
“I’m serious. This Clarissa chick gets kidnapped? Who took her? It’s riveting.” What was with my vocabulary today? Must be all that studying for the SAT.
Tierney ignored me, her hands working to stuff the book into her backpack. Her hair was down again, shielding her face from my gaze. That wasn’t going to work at all. I was missing all of her beautiful anger. She was already pissed, so why not?
I reached out with my forefinger.
The second my finger came in contact with the side of her face, Tierney stilled, her breath catching. I half expected her to swat my hand away, that’s what anyone else would have done, but not her. With more interest than the moment warranted, I watched as my finger traced the side of her face collecting her hair as it went. When I got to her ear, I was sure to move gently. I didn’t know how I knew, but Tierney needed soft. Everything about her was delicate. Her skin was fine silk against my fingers like it would tear if I was too rough. Her ear, once it was exposed, appeared small and fragile.
I stopped moving, my hand somehow cradling the side of her face. How had that happened?
It didn’t matter.
Tierney’d had enough. She leaned away from my hand, nudging it aside with her shoulder. And whatever that moment was between us disappeared.
My arm fell to my side, my skin tingling from contact with hers.
I gave myself a mental shake. One paragraph on the back of a romance novel and I’d turned into an idiot.
I felt like I should apologize. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to talk to you when I can’t see you.”
Tierney zipped her bag with a jerk just as the bell rang and hiked it onto her shoulder before meeting my eyes with a glare.
“Let’s just not talk, then. How about that?” she said before turning on her heel and marching out of the classroom.
“Ouch, Jacobs, dissed by a nerd.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Dustin Hart grinning at Tierney’s retreating back. The guy was my friend, but we weren’t that close. And right now I kind of wanted to smash his face.
“Don’t call her that,” I muttered, passing him as I made my way out of the room, my shoulder ‘bumping’ his a little harder than necessary.
What a great start to my first day.
3
Tierney
I walked out of AP Bio trembling from head to toe. The plan was to ignore and be ignored. I used the curtain of my hair to avoid most human interaction. Never in a million years did I expect Noah to do what he’d done. The side of my face where his finger traced my hairline still tingled from the warmth of his touch.
I wanted to beg Mr. McGowan to let me switch partners. There were tons of other nerds in that class, why couldn’t he have pulled one of their names to go with mine? It was bad enough Noah was the star in most of my dreams. I didn’t need daily interaction to encourage my stupid crush.
Not to mention the attention. People always noticed Noah. He was the kind of guy you couldn’t help but stop whatever you were doing to gawk at him. Not like he was a sideshow, you just didn’t want to miss whatever he said or did because it was bound to be something spectacular. Last year I even snuck into a couple of his games.
There was a lot of hype around the basketball team. They dominated on the court and whenever anyone talked about them, Noah’s name came up more than all the rest. After watching him play, it was easy to see why. The way he moved on the court was something to behold. His movements were fluid and graceful while displaying his strength and determination. I understood the kind of work it took to be that good and enjoyed every second watching Noah direct the team from the top of three point line as he dribbled the ball almost absently, like it was an extension of his body he didn’t have to pay much attention to in order to make it do what he wanted.
Enough.
This was why it was dangerous to spend too much time with Noah. I was already half in love with the guy and I didn’t even know him. Not really. I knew about him, big things. Not the little things that made a person who they were at their core. I knew he was smart. I knew he was motivated. I knew he was talented on the basketball court. I knew he was kind enough to pause long enough to say he was sorry for almost knocking down the class bookworm and shy girl. But what was he like in quiet moments when no one else was around? When he was bored? What made him happy? Or sad? Why was he so motivated to play basketball? Just because he was good at it? Was it to make his parents proud? Or to get a scholarship? For fun?
Yeah, spending any time with Mr. Perfect was a perfect recipe for disaster. Noah Jacobs was tempting. He made me want to throw away my mom jeans and cardigans and dig out my cute skirts and makeup. He made me want to pump up the flirt factor I’d mastered in my other life and make him beg me to go out with him. I knew what it was like to have all the popular guys trailing after me. I used to be the girl, the one they all wanted.
But that was before.
I’d shed that persona just as surely as I’d stripped myself of anything trendy or popular. It was surprising to me how easily I’d become invisible after years of being in the spotlight. It was equally shocking how much I didn’t miss it, the attention, the games, any of it. In fact, nothing had tempted me to return to my old ways. Except Noah.
I had to remind myself daily that I didn’t need anyone if I had to change who I was to get them to notice me. Someday, I’d find a guy who accepted and loved me for this Tierney, the one who tried to be more aware of the real people around her and not the fake social climbers I used to hang out with in my old life. It bothered me to think of Noah being that guy, the one who didn’t care about the little guy. Or girl. And just because he seemed like one of the nice ones, didn’t mean he wouldn’t smash someone beneath him on the popularity totem pole. I used to think my friends were nice, too.
“Tierney!”
Turning, I saw Ms. Lowe, the guidance counselor for juniors and seniors, moving my direction. Stopping, I waited for her to catch up.
“Hi, Ms. Lowe.” Ms. Lowe was nice and she’d been helpful in finding a program at Butler University, a local private school, for creative writing. In fact, my current project, a fifty thousand word work of either fiction or non-fiction, was for a scholarship that would be enough to pay my tuition for the first two years.
“How was your summer, Tierney?” she asked with a kind smile.
“Busy writing and reading.” What else?
Ms. Lowe laughed. “Sounds about right for you.” Her expression turned serious. “I was wondering if you’d had a chance think about which club you would like to join this year? Remember we talked last spring about how Butler wants to be sure their incoming freshman have a well rounded activities resume.”
Shoot. I’d forgotten about that. Clubs weren’t really my thing anymore. There was a creative writing group that met once a month, but Ms. Lowe had informed me that Butler specifically wanted their applicants to get involved in activities outside of their academic interests.
“I actually forgot about that. I’m sorry. I’ll take a look at the list and let you know.” I had no idea what I was going to do. When I’d looked last year I hadn’t seen anything on the list that piqued my interest and those that did were things the old me would have been interested in, like cheerleading or student government. Those were definite no’s for the new Tierney.
Ms. Lowe smiled. “I was kind of hoping you would say that.”
Uh-oh. That sounded frightening.
“There seems to be a vacancy on the planning committee for the Fall Homecoming Dance. In fact, we need a co-chair to help head up the committee.” Ms. Lowe’s eyes glittered with excitement and I could tell she was thrilled to be able to offer this position to me. Little did she know what she was asking me to do sounded like something straight out of my worst
nightmare. The new Tierney didn’t do dances, especially not Homecoming.
“Um-” I began.
But Ms. Lowe kept right on going. “I just knew you’d be perfect for the job, what with your creativity and attention to detail. So, I already told Mr. Hoffman, the faculty sponsor for the dance, you would do it.”
She did WHAT?
“Um, Ms. Lowe, I don’t really-” I started to say again. Heat prickled across my skin and I shook my head back and forth.
“Oh, don’t worry, Tierney. You’ll do wonderful. I just know it.” She patted my arm and charged ahead. “There’s a planning meeting today after school. I know that’s short notice, but you can do it, right?” She didn’t wait for me to answer as she thrust a stapled packet of papers into my hands.
“Here’s all the information about vendors and suppliers we’ve used over the years as well as all the information you need for dates and times. Mr. Hoffman has your budget information and he will help you and your co-chair keep your costs within it.” She stopped to take a breath, her face positively beaming. “Oh, I just know you’ll do a wonderful job, Tierney. Thank you so much.” She gave me a hug, squeezing my shoulders tight, completely oblivious to the fact that I didn’t return her enthusiasm, before letting go and marching her way back to her office. “Don’t forget, after school in Mr. Hoffman’s room!” she called over her shoulder.
“But-”
She was already gone. Feeling stunned, I glanced at the sheaf of papers in my hand. In bold letters across the top read the words Fall Homecoming Dance. Mr. Hoffman’s name was listed as the faculty sponsor just like Ms. Lowe had said. Below Mr. Hoffman’s name were two spaces for student co-chairs. In one spot was my name, but the other co-chair position was empty.