St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

  My cheeks went hot. “I think we have it covered.”

  He slapped his script against his thigh. “I’m just joshing ya’,” he said. “I think we’ve had enough practice in that area.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I faced forward and pretended to read through my script.

  Why did he always bring up what happened at prom last year? Had he been obsessing about it like I had? I had to admit, I did think about him the entire time we were apart. Comparing guys to him, imagining what it would be like to see him again. To kiss him. But those thoughts were just that. Thoughts. Dreams that would not become a reality. Mom would never let me have a real boyfriend. Hence, my sketchy dating record.

  Still, if there was one boy I’d want as my own, I had to admit. It would’ve been Joe.

  Would have been.

  As in, past tense.

  Right now, we were acquaintances.

  Nothing more.

  When rehearsal was over, Mrs. Simpson called the entire cast to the stage.

  “People!” Mrs. Simpson called. “That had to be the rockiest first run through I’ve ever seen. The play starts in less than three months. That’s not a lot of time. I need you”—she looked at me pointedly—“all of you to get your act together, learn your lines, learn your cues, and be serious. Understood?”

  I felt her hot glare on me again and I wanted to shrink into the floor.

  “I’ll see you all tomorrow where we will start back at scene one. I trust that you’ll be ready.”

  And with that, we were dismissed.

  I walked off the stage, meeting Purity by my seat. We collected our things and started the long walk to the car.

  “Hey, Soph.”

  Joe ran up behind us. He must’ve been in a rush, because he was still pulling down his shirt, giving me a glimpse at his amazing six-pack.

  “What does he want?” Purity hissed.

  I shrugged, trying to shake the thought of Joe’s abs from my mind.

  He had almost made it to us when Charlotte appeared on stage.

  “Joe.” She waved, then jogged over, giving Purity and me a false smile. “Joe. There you are.” She leaned on one hip and pulled her blond hair over her right shoulder. “We’re heading out. You coming?”

  He looked at me, then at Charlotte, as if she’d surprised him. But he quickly yanked at his camo hat and recovered.

  “Yeah,” he said to her. “Sure.” He turned back to me and gave me a small wave. “I’ll see you around.”

  My gut tightened, but I managed to wave back and put on an unbothered smile.

  “Yeah. See you around.”

  When he was out of hearing range, Purity spoke up.

  “Well, she said she was going to sink her ratty claws in him and she did. Looks like you don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  “Yeah,” I said. But my voice was halfhearted and soft. “Right.”

  “I mean, who does he think he is? He yells at you, embarrasses you, then punches a guy and declares himself your friend. Who does that?”

  I shook my head, feeling a little spaced out.

  Joe was hanging out with Charlotte? What did that mean? Were they going by themselves or were they going with a group? If they were going by themselves, was it like a date, or just something casual?

  “Hello. Earth to Sophia.”

  I looked up from my daze and smiled at Purity.

  “Yeah. Totally.” I swung my backpack onto my shoulders and tried to focus.

  It’s none of your business, I reminded myself. You and Joe are just friends. I said so myself.

  I sighed.

  We are just friends.

  Just friends.

  11

  I’d been sitting in my living room staring at my math book for the last ten minutes, but I couldn’t see anything on the page. My mind was spinning, jumping from Joe to Charlotte to my grades to the play to if I would ever sing again.

  I was so tied in knots that I barely heard the knock on the front door.

  My head shot up.

  Who would be knocking on the door? Mom and Quincey had keys. Had one of our neighbors got locked out? Not that I’d known who our neighbors were since I didn’t speak to them. My mom and I had never been the kind of people who got to know their neighbors. We usually kept our heads down and kept to ourselves.

  I closed my math book, jogged to the door, and pulled it open.

  Standing there in a white T-shirt, gray sweats, and sneakers was Joe.

  What was he doing here? And looking so hot? I was a sucker for a guy in sweatpants and a T-shirt. Wasn’t every girl?

  When he saw me, he gave me a small, crooked smile.

  “Hey, Soph.”

  My heart beat like a humming bird’s wings.

  Had he come to see me? No, that was impossible. But why was he here? And how did he know where I lived? Was Charlotte with him?

  “Hey, Joe.”

  I stood in the door, blocking his way inside. I could only stare at him, waiting for him to tell me why he was here on my doorstep. How did he even know where I lived?

  But he offered no explanation, which was, at the very least, weird.

  “Superman!” Quincey called from behind him. Joe was lifted from his feet by two dark, strong arms. Then he turned, and he and Quincey embraced like long lost brothers.

  “Q! It’s good to see you.”

  The two stared at each other while my mom waddled past me, her arms loaded down with bags.

  “Is that little Josiah Walker?” she asked.

  My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

  Mom knew Joe? How? When?

  Quincey ushered Joe inside amidst laughter and chatter, while I stood on the sidelines, frozen in place.

  Joe grinned at my mom. “How you doing, Aunt Pam?”

  Aunt Pam? He knew my mom enough to call her Aunt Pam? What was going on? Was I in the twilight zone?

  Joe and my mom hugged then he helped Quincey bring in the rest of the bags.

  I walked over to my mom, helping her unload some bushels of asparagus.

  “You know Joe?” I asked, trying to sound casual, even though inside it felt like a level ten freak-out.

  “Of course. That’s Quincey’s best friend. He used to come around when we visited my sister.”

  “I’ve never seen him around Aunt B’s house.”

  “No?” She thought a minute. “Well, I remember him and Quincey riding bikes together in the mornings. And I remember him coming by to bring Beatrice things.” She hmphed. “I guess I don’t remember ever seeing you two together. Maybe if you didn’t sleep until noon every day you would have seen him more often.”

  I shook my head, still holding the same bushel of asparagus I’d been holding since I got over here.

  Is that how Quincey spent his summers? Talking to me in the afternoon and night time and hanging out with Joe in the morning? Why didn’t he ever introduce us, especially since he and Joe were best friends? Why did I have to wait until the night of the prom to even know Joe existed?

  “You look like a deer in headlights,” Mom said, brows pressed into a frown. “Go ahead and put those in the fridge.”

  Oh, the asparagus. Right.

  I opened the fridge and slid them inside.

  I stood in the doorway, looking at the milk as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

  At least now I knew I’d made the right decision not telling Joe who I was. It also made sense that Quincey hadn’t revealed my secret that night either. If Joe knew my mom, then it would have definitely blown my cover.

  “Sophia,” Mom called. “Come put this ice cream away before it melts. What is with you today?”

  I walked over and helped her finish unloading the bags as things slowly clicked into place in my mind.

  Of course, Joe had come here to talk to Quincey. They were best friends. Why would I think he would come here to see me? That was stupid. Jeez, I was so erratic whenever Joe was around, which w
as insane since I’d been around plenty of boys in the last year. I’d always been super comfortable and in control with them, but with Joe, it was like my brain turned to mush. I had to get myself together.

  “And when you’re done with the groceries, you can put on some clothes.”

  I looked down at my white off the shoulder crop top and yoga pants.

  “What’s wrong with this?”

  Mom frowned. “I can see your whole stomach.”

  “Mom, I’m at home.”

  “And now we have a guest. So, go put on something that covers your behind. As a matter of fact, throw that top away.”

  I started to roll my eyes, thought better of it, and bit my inner cheek instead.

  “Yo, Soph,” Quincey called from his bedroom. “Can you hook us up with some drinks?”

  I began to open my mouth, then closed it again.

  Normally, I did not wait on anyone. But, serving the guys drinks gave me a good excuse to be in the room with them. Not that I wanted to see Joe, but because I wanted to see what they were up to.

  I grabbed two bottles of water and walked into one of the spare bedrooms that Quincey was currently occupying.

  “Good looking out, cuz,” Quincey said, holding up his hand for a water. I tossed it to him.

  Then I turned to Joe. His eyes were skimming me from my head right down to my sneakers. When his eyes met mine, he closed his agape mouth and I watched his Adam’s apple bob.

  Suddenly the room felt so small. My heart was racing out of control.

  I turned, ready to bolt, when he called me.

  “Soph.”

  I closed my eyes, willing my heartbeat to slow down. Why did it get so crazy whenever he was around?

  I slowly turned in time to see his hand rake through his dark hair before replacing his ever-present camo hat. Why did he wear that hat all the time?

  “The, uh, water.”

  Oh. Right. I’d forgotten to hand him the water.

  Feeling like the world’s biggest clown, I tossed it to him then turned around to sprint out.

  “Oh, uh, Sophia?”

  I couldn’t turn around. If I did, he’d see the way my pulse was pounding its way through my neck.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  I heard shuffling, then felt him stand behind me, making my body hot.

  “Your, uh, shoes. May I?”

  I bit my lip.

  Did all boys say may I? If not, then they should have. It certainly sounded hot coming from Josiah.

  I didn’t know if I nodded or not, but the next thing I knew, he was crouching in front of me tying both of my wayward shoelaces.

  I had to admit. It was sweet.

  He was sweet.

  Jeez, what was I saying? I had to get out of here before I thought something I couldn’t unthink.

  “Sophia, get in here and finish putting these groceries away. Then change your clothes!”

  Good old Mom to the rescue.

  Her bellowing gave me a good excuse to bolt without looking like an idiot.

  I quickly finished putting away the groceries, then started toward my bedroom, where I planned on locking myself in until Joe left, when Quincey sounded behind me.

  “Whoa there, cuz. What’s up? Where are you going?”

  “I have to change,” I called behind me.

  I heard a scuffle, then Quincey was jogging out of his bedroom at the end of the hallway, coming to a stop in front of me.

  I glared at him.

  “What is he doing here?” I hissed.

  “He who? Superman?”

  “Yes. Sup—uh, Joe. What is Joe doing here?”

  “Oh. He lives here.”

  “What? Here?”

  I swear that if he moved in, I was going to move out.

  “Yeah. Right downstairs. You didn’t know?”

  A little string of relief slipped through me. He wasn’t moving in, but he still lived way too close for comfort.

  “Of course I didn’t know,” I growled. When I caught Mom’s eyes from the dining room, I lowered my voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Haven’t you seen him around? He’s like one floor below you.”

  “Do I look like I’ve seen him around?”

  I probably looked like a crazed banshee, but I didn’t care. It was like everywhere I looked, there was Joe, ready to throw a wrench in my life.

  “Well, is it a problem that he’s here? Because I can ask him to go.”

  I opened my mouth then shut it again.

  If I told Quincey that Joe being here was a problem, I’d have to explain why it was a problem. Then I’d look like a desperate loser for still being bothered by a guy I’d only met for an hour a year ago.

  No. I could not tell Quincey. He’d think I was crazy.

  “No. It’s fine. I’m just surprised.” Surprised was the understatement of the century.

  Quincey didn’t look convinced.

  “All right. If you’re sure it’s cool?”

  “It’s fine,” I said, much too quickly.

  Quincey nodded. “Fine. I’ll get back to it then. We’re going to order a pizza. You want some?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t think I could eat if I tried.

  Joe was going to be in my apartment tonight.

  He’d probably be here for as long as Quincey was here.

  That meant the entire summer.

  I would have Joe in my house the entire summer.

  And it was only March.

  How was I going to survive?

  12

  I sat in my room for the rest of the night, staring at the walls, listening to music, and avoiding Joe.

  Music gave me the sort of peace that other people got at church or on sitting cross-legged on top of mountains. When the melodies came through my headphones, they became a part of me. Controlling my heartbeats, easing my spirit, and soothing the sore spots of my soul. Music transported me to places my physical body had never been and allowed me to be anyone I chose. To believe in beautiful futures, confront the hard truths of the present, and to remember the past.

  My mom always said my father’s favorite song was “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay” by Otis Reading.

  I listened to it now, imagining that my dad was here, giving me advice on what to do.

  Mom says Dad always gave the best advice.

  When the song ended, I turned off my music player and scrolled through social media. When that got old, I tried to read a book. It was a last-ditch effort. I wasn’t a reader, and this book was one I’d borrowed from Ariel last year.

  When I felt like I’d go stir crazy, I turned on some heavy metal and screamed the lyrics in my head.

  It calmed me a little.

  Suddenly, someone touched my foot, making me jump.

  “Hey!” I cried out.

  I snatched out my headphones and opened my eyes. Quincey was standing in front of me, laughing.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  I glared at him.

  “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

  “I did. You didn’t answer.”

  “That should tell you I didn’t want any visitors.”

  “Come on, not even me?”

  “Well.” I softened a little. “Maybe you.”

  “Come on, there’s pizza in the kitchen.” He held out his hand to help me up and I took it.

  I walked out of the room, holding out foolish hope that Joe would be gone.

  Unfortunately for me, his tall, thick shape proved me wrong. Of course he wasn’t gone. He was a boy, which meant he was staying for the food.

  A million questions filled my brain again.

  What did he mean when he said he wanted to be friends?

  Was he just friends with Charlotte or was it something more?

  I pushed the questions away and stepped up to the counter.

  Joe took a big bite of pizza and chewed it thoughtfully, not looking my way.

  “New outfit?” Quincey asked.
>
  I nodded. Per my mother’s instructions earlier, I’d changed into a navy blue, long-sleeved high low top, with little pink flowers on it. It wasn’t as cute as my crop top but, let’s face it, nothing is as cute as a crop top.

  I pulled two slices of pepperoni pizza onto my plate, planning to eat as fast as possible then hightail it back to my room.

  “So, Sophia, Auntie Pam says you’re having some trouble in school,” Quincey said.

  Really? He was bringing this up now? In front of Joe? What ever happened to keeping the family business in the family?

  I nibbled on a piece of spicy pepperoni. “Uh, just a few classes. It’s not a big deal.”

  It actually was a big deal. A huge deal. But I didn’t want Joe to know that.

  “Not according to Auntie,” Quincey said.

  I looked around for my mother, but she was in the living room listening to the news on the radio like it was World War II.

  I swallowed the pepperoni and pinned Quincey with a look.

  “Is there a point to this conversation?” I asked, not hiding my irritation.

  First it was the soup kitchen, now it was my grades. What was with him?

  He shrugged. “Just that if you need a tutor, I’m here.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, because you remember eleventh grade English.”

  “I do,” Josiah said.

  I swung my eyes to him. He swallowed the pizza in his mouth and put down his plate.

  “We had to maintain an A average to play football back in Texas. If you need some help, I can help.”

  “Vouched,” Quincey said. “He even tutored some of the other players on the team. Brought Collins Murphy up from a C to an A, right?”

  Joe nodded, then looked back at me.

  I took another bite of pizza, not replying.

  “I’m just saying that if you need help in school, we’re here for you,” Quincey said. “Just call us the super tutors.”

  Joe smiled. “Super tutors. I like that. We should make some T-shirts.”

  “Or a website,” Quincey said. “I’d pay off college like that.” He snapped his fingers and smiled at me.

  I choked down my last bite, already eyeing the path back to my room.

  I was not going to allow Joe to tutor me. Quincey either.

  I wasn’t sure if Quincey knew the full extent of my grade situation, but I planned on keeping it to myself as long as possible until I got it figured out.