St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

  I let out a breath, trying to calm my brain.

  What had he just said again? It was the whole bedroom thing. Lysander was explaining to Hermia that he’d never lie to her because they were joined by a vow. I remembered that because I’d asked Joe what a troth was and he said it meant a vow. I’d joked that I thought it was a blanket. Oh, now I remembered. This was where I was supposed to tell him that he was full of crap, but in the nicest way possible.

  A lightbulb went off in my head and I started to relax as my lines came back to me slowly, like a leaking faucet.

  By the time he and I pretended to fall asleep so that Puck could enter, I was feeling a little more confident.

  “You’re doing great,” Joe whispered. Our hands were still clasped, and he gave me a gentle squeeze.

  “I froze up.”

  “It’s okay. It happens to everyone.”

  “Not to you.”

  “Even to me. Just relax, breathe, and remember what we went over. You’re fine.”

  His large body, and his strong grip on my fingers, was a comfort against the harsh stage lights. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, relaxing on the floor.

  I was glad Josiah was here, and that he was partnered up with me. I wasn’t sure I could do this alone. Did that make us friends? We did friend things. But why did calling him my friend make my stomach feel so strange?

  I pushed the thought out of my mind. I couldn’t decipher what Joe and I were now. I had to keep focused. I had to find my confidence. I had to be unstoppable. I had to become Hermia.

  At the end of rehearsals, I felt invigorated.

  I didn’t mess up another line. Not one. I walked off the stage with my head held high, feeling accomplished.

  It was a nice feeling.

  “Hey, Sophia.” I turned to see Shawn Mogul jogging after me. He was in brown cargo pants, a checkered shirt, a brown sweater, and boots. He wasn’t as tall as I usually went for. He was barely six feet. Still, he looked handsome today.

  “Hey, Shawn.”

  “I just wanted to say that you looked great up there today. You’re really improving.”

  I blushed. “Thank you.”

  “Keep up the good work.”

  A beautiful smile appeared on Shawn’s face, causing pleasant feelings to rush through me. “I will.”

  “If you ever want to run lines together, or anything, I’m available. Just let me know.”

  His gorgeous smile made me smile too. I laced my thumbs through the belt loops on my jeans and leaned on one hip. “How will I let you know?”

  “I can give you my number, if that’s okay.”

  How long had it been since I’d gotten a guy’s number? Weeks? It felt like years. I’d forgotten what a huge confidence boost it was, and I needed all the confidence boosting I could get. Especially if it came from a guy as handsome as Shawn Mogul.

  “Sure. Can you text me?”

  He pulled his phone from his back pocket, and we traded numbers.

  “Cool. So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Yup,” I said with a grin. “Tomorrow.”

  “And, just let me know when you want to get together.”

  “Okay.”

  He gave me one last smile before walking away.

  My body felt like it was floating.

  I walked up the aisle to my car, feeling better than I’d felt in a long time. I wished Purity were here to share this moment, but she’d been missing these last few days. Lately, it seemed like she always had something to do right after school. I blew out a breath and shot her off a text. Then, I practically skipped to my car.

  19

  I threw my head back and groaned.

  “Ugh, this sucks.”

  I stared down at my algebra homework for what seemed like the millionth time.

  Josiah put his feet up on the living room table, while his nose was buried in a sports almanac.

  “Finish your test.”

  I sighed and put my pencil tip back on the page. “You’re not being empathetic.”

  “Fine. Your practice math quiz sucks. Now finish your test.”

  I fake saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  This unit was on parabola equations and seriously, it was making my eyes hurt. But Josiah had reviewed some problems with me earlier and it made things easier. I’d never been a math whiz, but with Josiah’s patient tutoring, I understood how to figure it out. It gave me confidence. I used to just think I sucked at school, but these past few days, I was starting to believe that maybe I just needed some one-on-one time with someone who actually cared that I succeeded.

  I slowly worked through the questions, then handed Josiah my paper.

  “Please don’t make me do it again,” I groaned, throwing my head back onto the cushion.

  “That depends.” He put down his almanac and plucked the paper from my hands. “On how well you did.”

  “I think my brain is broken.”

  “Well, that’s what math is supposed to do.”

  I closed my eyes, waiting for him to say that every answer was wrong. That the confidence I’d built up was misplaced. That I would never pass eleventh grade. That I might as well give up.

  My stomach started to hurt, and I rubbed at it.

  He let out a long sigh, and I felt something brush against my side.

  My eyes popped open and I looked to my right, to find that Joe’s posture reflected mine. Head hung back, eyes closed, breathing even. He’d placed my test next to me, holding it to the couch with one heavy hand.

  Our fingers brushed as I pulled it toward me.

  An accident, I told myself.

  Still, that didn’t stop my heartbeat from picking up.

  I took a deep breath and looked at the score on the page.

  He wrote 100 percent in big black letters. Beneath it was a smiley face.

  One hundred percent? I hadn’t gotten a 100 percent on anything math related.

  Ever.

  My hands shook as the full force of my accomplishment flooded me.

  Was this real?

  I’d worked hard on something and seen it through. And it succeeded!

  I flung myself at Joe, hugging him tight.

  “This is amazing! I’ve never gotten a hundred in math on anything. Not even homework. You are a miracle worker.”

  I expected him to react with the same joy as I had. Instead, his face was tight. His shoulders stiff. His hands were practically nailed to the couch. He eyes blazed into mine, the line of his jaw rock-hard.

  In my excitement, I was sitting on top of him, straddling him and hugging him at the same time.

  Right in my living room. Where my mother could walk in at any second.

  Where Quincey could—

  “Whoa, did I interrupt something?”

  My body shot straight up then went into a free fall. I screamed, unable to brace myself, hands searching for something to grab on to.

  A second later, strong hands caught me, stopping me from crashing to the floor.

  Joe was hunched over, eyes wide, arms around me, cradling me. His eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them. His chest heaving. Slowly, he gently released me so I lay on the floor.

  Quincey’s laughing voice echoed through the living room, startling me.

  Dear God, kill me now!

  “You all right?” Joe whispered.

  My gut was rolling. My breathing nearly impossible. “I… I…”

  “What is going on in here?”

  Mom steamrolled into the living room. Her eyes landed on Josiah standing over me, while I lay on the floor.

  “Mom!” I rolled to a stand, my stomach so tight I felt nauseous.

  “What are you kids doing?” she demanded. “I’m trying to read my scriptures.”

  I opened my mouth, but before I could speak Joe spoke up.

  “Sorry, Ms. Johnson. We were just fooling around and Jell… uh, Sophia fell off the couch.”

  Mom’s arms crossed. “Fooling around? Aren’t yo
u supposed to be studying?”

  “We are, Mom.” I picked up the paper from the couch and showed her. “Look. I got a one hundred on my math homework.”

  “A one hundred?” Her voice was incredulous. If I were her, I wouldn’t believe me either.

  “Yes.”

  “In math?”

  I handed her the paper. She plucked it from my fingers and looked at it.

  “Joe’s tutoring is working. My grades are already up in all my classes.”

  Her eyebrows rose as she examined the paper. Then, she examined me and Joe.

  “No more rough housing,” she said. “You all are too big for that. And, Quincey?”

  “Yes, Auntie. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

  “Um-hum.”

  Her eyes raked over the paper one more time before she handed it back to me. “You know, your father used to get a hundred in all his classes. Let’s shoot for that.”

  Then, she gave us one more scolding glance before she retreated back to her room, muttering a prayer for the Lord to give her strength.

  I let go of the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

  “So,” Quincey said, stepping forward. “Does anyone want to tell me what just happened here?”

  I looked at Joe and he looked at me.

  “Studying.” We both said at the same time.

  “Um-hmm,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  Funny. In that moment he looked just like my mother.

  We spent the rest of the evening finishing homework and running lines. We postponed watching the movie, instead playing a racing game with Quincey.

  I was improving with my lines, but my racing game skills were declining fast. I just couldn’t focus on the game. My mind was too jumbled up with the play, my grades, and Joe. And it showed, because I was getting my butt whipped, big time.

  After a while, Joe’s phone rang. He took one look at the screen and frowned.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, stepping out of the room. A moment later I heard the front door close.

  “So, what’s going on, cuz?” Quincey asked.

  I shrugged. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean what’s going on?”

  He looked at me expectantly. As if I had a clue what he was talking about.

  “Uh, nothing.”

  “Really. So, nothing is going on between you and Joe?”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  He gave me that look again. The one that suggested I was an idiot.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. Totally sure.”

  “Like a hundred percent sure?”

  “Yes. A hundred percent sure. Joe and I are just friends.”

  “Friends that study together?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And that are in the play together?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And that roll around on the floor like monkeys together?”

  I grabbed a pillow from his bed and threw it at his face, but he ducked at the last second.

  “I fell,” I said.

  “Yup. Right into his arms.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Fine. Fine. I’ll shut up. But the next time Auntie catches you two, don’t expect me to cover for you.”

  “There won’t be a next time.”

  “Why not? Because you two will find a more private place to study?”

  “No. Because… because… there just won’t be. Okay?”

  “Good. Keep it that way.”

  His expression turned hard and tight, but before I could question him on it, Joe reappeared, looking like someone had just run over his dog.

  “What’s going on, Superman?” Quincey asked.

  Joe shook his head, his eyes downcast. “My grandma got put into a nursing home today.”

  Quincey paused the game and put down his controller.

  “You mean Grams?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, man, I’m sorry.”

  Joe flopped down on the bed. “I thought we had more time with her,” he said. “I wanted to be there when she went in. Now I’m across the country and she’s there. Alone.”

  “She’s not alone,” Quincey said. “Your mom and dad are there. And all your aunts and uncles.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not there.”

  Empathy for Joe flooded me. I totally got where he was coming from. If anything happened to my mom, as frustrating as she was sometimes, I’d be devastated. Especially if I wasn’t nearby.

  “I just want her to know I love her, you know?” he said. “She’s ninety-seven years old. I want to tell her I love her before…”

  He didn’t finish his thought, but his hands gripped the blanket he sat upon.

  I stood and placed a hand on his forearm.

  “I’m sure she knows how much you love her,” I said.

  He regarded me, then nodded. “I just… I just want to tell her, you know?”

  I closed my eyes, my heart breaking for him. I knew what it was like to be close to your grandmother. My grandma Odie was like my best friend before she passed. After that, we moved to Vermont, and my nightmare began.

  My insides twisted as I saw anguish fill Joe’s eyes. Sure, Joe could call his grandmother, but there was nothing like seeing the person you cared about face-to-face. It was like a little pocket of magic.

  I let out a deep breath, knowing what I had to do.

  I gave Joe’s arm one final squeeze, then told him and Quincey good night.

  When I got to my room, I pulled out my phone and sent Joe a text.

  Me: Text me when you get back to your place.

  A second later I received a reply.

  Joe: Okay.

  I only waited a half an hour before I got a text back.

  Joe: I’m home. What’s up?

  Me: What if you could see her?

  Joe: I wish I could. But I just flew up here. My parents are never going to buy me a plane ticket home so soon.

  Me: What if they didn’t know.

  Joe: What are you saying?

  Me: I’m saying that I could get some plane tickets and fly us down there. You can see your grandmother and tell her how you feel. Then we could fly back.

  Joe: Like on a plane?

  Me: Yeah.

  Joe: No. That’s too much.

  Me: You’ve done so much for me already. Now I want to do something for you.

  Joe: Are you sure?

  Me: Absolutely.

  Joe: Okay.

  Me: Great. I’ll make the arrangements.

  Joe: You don’t know what this means to me. Thank you so much.

  Me: You’re welcome.

  Then, I switched screens to my phone.

  I needed a plane to Texas ASAP. And I knew exactly who to call.

  20

  We didn’t have much time.

  Eric had chartered us a plane from JFK to Trouble, Texas, that would leave at 6:00 a.m. and return us at 1:00 p.m., allowing us to spend the morning with Joe’s grandmother and giving us plenty of time to return in time for play rehearsal.

  Honestly, my mom and I had been rich since last August and we didn’t live much different now than when we were back in Vermont, except for the better clothes, expensive condo and school, and the fact that Mom no longer had to work as a nurse. But my friends had been rich their entire lives. They knew how to make the impossible happen with just a phone call or a text message. I wouldn’t have known how to charter a plane or how to hire a driver or even how to get lunch reservations. But, after I explained to Eric what the deal was, he did all three in less than a half an hour.

  My friends were the absolute best friends a girl could have. They came through for me in my time of need every single time. They say you can’t pick your family, but I felt like I did. My friends were my family, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

  “So, this is going to fly us all the way to Texas?” Joe asked as we walked up the steps to the plane.

  “Y
up. Eric Shipman’s private plane. He says he flies all over the world in it.”

  Joe let out a low whistle. “I believe it.”

  We introduced ourselves to the pilot and climbed aboard.

  The plane was separated into two seating areas. The first area housed four black leather recliners, while the second seating area had four recliners covered in some sort of fur. The plane smelled like fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. I searched for the source of the smell but didn’t spot anything.

  “I feel like I’m flying on Air Force One,” Joe said.

  We entered the second seating area and sank into two fur lined recliners, positioned side by side.

  “You mean you didn’t fly up here on a private jet?” I joked.

  “Me? No. We flew Jet Blue. But this”—he reclined his chair as far as he could, grabbed the remote attached to the armrest, and flicked through the channels until he found baseball—“this is how flying should be. It’s like sitting in my living room.”

  “Not exactly but close.” I snuggled into the warmth of my chair and closed my eyes.

  “Thanks, Jelly Roll,” he said. “This really means a lot to me.”

  I opened my eyes and peeked at him with a warm smile. “Don’t mention it, Superman.”

  He grinned, and I swore my heart melted into a puddle on the floor. I closed my eyes, hoping he didn’t see.

  “It’s nice to hang out with you and not have to run lines or do math or study history,” I said.

  “Who said we’re not running lines?”

  My eyes popped open and I groaned. “No.”

  “Yes. No time to waste. You have a government quiz on Friday, plus we have a script to memorize.”

  “But we’re on a plane. And there are cookies.”

  He sighed. “You’re right. Cookies first. Then studying.”

  A stewardess appeared at the front of the plane and announced that we’d be taking off in five minutes. I buckled in tight and held on to the armrest.

  Did I mention I hated flying? I mean, the act of flying I was okay with. But actually, taking off and landing was the absolute worst. I’d heard somewhere that plane crashes normally occurred in the first twenty seconds of takeoff or landing. So, as the plane’s engine roared and we zoomed forward, I began my count.