“That’s fine,” I said. “You can take my car and I’ll catch a ride home with a friend.”
Tracey shrugged which I assumed meant that would work for her. Crisis averted.
Twenty minutes later we were on the way to school with a quick stop to pick up Bernie. Bernie and I traded driving on days when our after school schedules didn’t conflict. Which, between Bernie’s job at her dad’s garage and my many activities, ended up only being once or twice a week.
“Hey, Tracey.” Bernie gave my sister a nod when she saw her. Weirdly, Bernie usually got along better with Tracey than I did. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going,” Tracey said, getting out of the car. “You can have the jump seat if you promise to be in charge of the radio. I can’t handle Lacey’s chirpy music this early.”
“Classic Motown puts me in a good mood.” I shrugged and waited for them to buckle in before pulling away from the curb. “If Stevie Wonder before eight a.m. is wrong, I don’t ever want to be right.”
“Settle down, Sparky,” Bernie said, selecting a classic rock station to keep the peace. “So, are you ready for Grady today?”
“Ha! The question is… Is he ready for me?” I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “If he isn’t ready to work, the next Mr. Jackalope column will make last week’s look tame.”
“I’m not sure how you’d top last week’s, but it sure would be fun to see,” Bernie said. “And I even like Grady, but that was simply too funny.”
Tracey leaned in from the back seat. “What’s this about Grady? Did I miss something?”
“Only all the fun.” Bernie pulled the last edition of the Jackson Journal from her backpack and handed it back to Tracey. “Page Six. Lacey found out Grady tricked her into doing his work on the column, so your sister got even.”
“That sounds so unlike you, Lace,” Tracey said. “I would have sworn you were too nice to get revenge.”
“I know. But he’s burned me before, so it needed to be done.” Why should bad boy jocks get away with bad behavior? Just because he had those killer green eyes, and dimples, and all those muscles and that grin that made half the girls in school practically faint as he walked by? No. “I didn’t do it for revenge. I did it to guilt him into doing his share of the work. Plus, he pissed me off.”
“Pissed you off? I can’t believe my ears. Rainbow Bright Lacey actually went off her schedule and gave into impulse?” Tracey grinned at me through the rear view mirror. “Shocking.”
“Hey, I can be impulsive.” Sure, I sounded a bit defensive, but it was a sore spot between us. The yin and yang of our personalities in a microcosm. Tracey was unafraid to take bold action and give in to spontaneous impulses. I went through life with careful deliberation. Cautious, sensible, and planned six ways to Sunday with a back-up plan in my back pocket. I signaled with my right blinker and turned into the school parking lot, sending a quick glance to Bernie at the side-eye she gave me. “What?”
“You are the least impulsive person I know. It wouldn’t hurt to loosen up a little.” She shrugged and pulled her backpack onto her lap as I pulled into my assigned parking spot. “Relax a little and let yourself enjoy the last half of senior year.”
“Hard work and fun aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“They are the way you do it,” Tracey chimed in without looking up from reading the newspaper. She snickered and grinned her way through the column. “Okay, that was funny. How did Grady take it?”
“Fine.” He’d actually taken it with a sense of humor, but today’s meeting would reveal if he’d really meant his apology and pledge to contribute.
We exited my car, and I locked up before handing the keys over to Tracey.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” she asked, her gaze on the set of keys in her hand.
“Sure. I’ll get a ride and Bernie was already catching a ride with someone else for work.”
“Okay. See you tonight.”
I watched Tracey walk off toward the side of the building where the edgier kids hung out. The last few minutes had been one of those rare moments when the distance between us didn’t seem so impossible to navigate. Like a dry river bed, it seemed suddenly possible to find our way back to each other. But then it would disappear, like a rush of raging water, flooding in and taking away the illusion and the hope.
“I won’t be able to eat lunch with you.” We wove our way through the parking lot toward the front doors. “That was the only time Grady and I both had free to work.”
“Have fun with that. I guess I’ll have to track down Ali, Dax, or TJ.” Bernie frowned. “There’s some new transfer student in my auto shop class who’s kind of a pain. I’d like to avoid running into him at lunch.”
“I’m sorry! If Grady and I finish up early, I’ll text you.”
Bernie laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“That you’re possibly the only girl in the world who’d even think of rushing through time with Grady Burnett. Like spending time with him is a hardship.”
“Please tell me you aren’t a card-carrying member of the Grady Burnett fan club.”
“I don’t pay dues, if that’s what you mean.” She laughed when I flinched like I’d walked into a cloud of skunk spray. “I know he’s got a bad-boy rep, but I’ve always thought he was a nice guy.”
“Ha. I’ll let you know which one shows up at our meeting: the nice guy or the bad boy.”
9
It Feels Good To Be Bad
Grady
“You’re off to the right start, Grady.” Lacey stood outside of the media center looking suitably impressed that I’d arrived as the first lunch bell rang.
“I was serious when I said I’d pull my weight.” I opened the door, letting Lacey enter before me.
“Mr. Burnett, stop where you are.” The media specialist hissed at me from the check-out desk. I’d been hoping to slide right on past without any notice.
“It’s cool, Mrs. Upton. I’m here to work.” Sure it was the first time in a long while that I was using the library for a non-napping activity, but Mrs. Upton’s expression looked distrustful enough you’d think I was an escaped criminal with newly sawed-off handcuffs dangling from my wrists. “Honest. We’re working on a project. Lacey can vouch for me.”
“Lacey?” Mrs. Upton’s gaze moved to Lacey, one skeptical eyebrow arched high.
“Yes, ma’am.” Lacey’s gaze darted over to me before moving back. “We’re working on our advice column for the paper. Together. Just like Grady said.”
“I’ll have my eye on you,” she said, pointing two fingers at her eyes before turning them to point at me.
“Yes, ma’am.” I nodded and followed Lacey over to one of the long study tables. Lacey pulled out her iPad, flipped the cover into a stand, and laid down a wireless keyboard.
I took the seat next to her and pulled out my sandwich and bag of chips to eat as she brought up the advice column’s mail account.
“What are you doing?” she hissed at me.
“Eating lunch.” Opening the sandwich bag with my PB&J, I took a bite which apparently moved Lacey from DEFCON 4 (heightened alert) to DEFCON 3 (serious situation posing an immediate threat).
“You can’t eat in the library,” she whispered, darting a look over to the front desk and back to me. “It’s against the rules.”
“It’s lunch period. When are you planning to eat?” I tore open my chips, watching Lacey eye them with definite hunger.
“When we’re finished.” She licked her lips, her gaze still on my chips. “I’ll eat on the way to my next class.”
“But you’re hungry now. Take one.” I held my chips out to her. “We aren’t hurting anything by eating. Heck, we’re hard-working students trying to multi-task.”
“I can’t.” Oh, but her eyes said she really, really wanted to. Lacey bit her bottom lip, looking both envious and disapproving. And sort of hot in a prissy school teacher way. “Rules are in place for a r
eason. For safety or to keep order.”
“I totally agree. Rules for safety or public order should be followed. But no lives were put in danger during the eating of my PB&J. And look…” I ate the last bite of my sandwich while I gathered up my trash. “See? No mess. Not even a crumb. Chaos did not erupt.”
“Not this time,” she said grudgingly, darting an uneasy glance around the library.
“Come on, Lacey Jane. Come over to the dark side.” I leaned in close and whispered, “It feels good to be bad once in a while.”
“I refuse to be the Bonnie to your Clyde.”
I burst out laughing which garnered me a loud “Ssshhh!” from Mrs. Upton at the check-out desk and a poke in the arm from Lacey.
“Let’s get to work. What I’ve been doing each week”—she threw a pointed glance my way—“is pick a question for each Mr. and Ms. Jackalope that students might actually want an answer to, and then I attempt to make the answer interesting and hopefully humorous.”
“Based on the number of compliments I’ve received every week, you’ve done a great job.”
“Thank you.” Lacey angled the iPad toward me. “Why don’t you scroll through this week’s emails and pick two questions for us this week?”
“Sure.” I looked through, amazed at how many questions kids had submitted. Popular questions covered topics on bullies, boyfriend trouble, girlfriend trouble, issues with parents, problems with friends, problems with having no friends, school pressure, girls hitting on boyfriends, and dating rules about dating a friend’s ex. “Got one for you. ‘I don’t know how to kiss. Please help! Signed, Lip Locked.’”
“No. Do you take anything seriously?” She shook her head at me.
“I was kidding. Do you take everything seriously?”
“I’m sorry.” Lacey sighed. “I just—I do take my school work seriously. It’s… Never mind. So, that was a little funny, but no thanks. Please pick another question for Ms. Jackalope.”
For a second there I thought Lacey was going to open up to me. There are moments in life that carried more weight. Important ones that held some secret code to help unlock the big puzzles in life. It felt like one of those had just slipped by.
“I know which question. This one on school pressure and college applications,” I said. “It’s got Lacey Jane written all over it.”
“Yes. That will work for me.” Lacey continued on, listing at least five points she could include about how to handle the pressure of college applications.
“Man, you didn’t even need to think about that,” I said, sitting back in awe.
“Well, it’s pretty much my life, so…” She shrugged.
“Yeah, not something I have to worry about.”
“Why wouldn’t you—Oh, you’ll probably get a music or athletic scholarship.”
“Nope, not me. I’m not going to college.”
“You aren’t?” She frowned and tilted her head. “But—”
“It’s no big deal. A lot of musicians don’t go to college.” Granted, my decision had been influenced by the fact that Barry had told me he and mom wouldn’t help me pay for college. And, yeah, a lot of kids took out student loans, but money troubles were a big part of why my parents broke up. I’d seen how ugly life got when debts piled up. No, thanks. I was never going to end up like my deadbeat dad. “I’m planning to head to Nashville after high school.”
“You must be good.” Lacey blinked at me, looking impressed.
I shrugged. “I can hold my own on a guitar. And I don’t have too many dogs howling when I sing.”
“I do.” She winced. “I’m a painfully bad singer.”
“Whoa. Something Lacey Trueheart isn’t perfect at?” I joked, but instantly felt bad at the defensive look on her face. “I’m kidding, Lace. I bet you’ve got a nice voice. Go ahead and sing me a line of something.”
“Um, no. I don’t sing in front of people. Ever.” She shook her head vehemently. “You know how people have nightmares about showing up for an exam late and naked?”
“No. People have those?”
“All the time. Except me. My nightmare is me having to sing in front of people.”
“Naked?”
“Nope. Fully dressed.” She shuddered and held her hands out. “Look, just the thought is making my hands shake.”
I took hold of her hands, noticing their softness more than anything. And the fact that my breath hitched at the touch of my hands on hers. Our eyes met and held, weirdly magnetic.
Her gaze darted away and she tugged her hands from mine. “Back to the column. What about your question?”
“You know what? I’m going to help Lip Locked and respond to the ‘I don’t know how to kiss’ question.” I wasn’t going near the questions about parents or families getting along. I may have lots of experience with that, but obviously I didn’t have any answers or going home every day wouldn’t be such a miserable experience.
“Oh, my. I g—guess being you, you’re an expert at k—kissing…” Her eyes were so wide she reminded me of a newborn kitten.
“Being me?”
“You’re, um, popular and, you know, you’ve got…” Her gaze darted away and she fidgeted with the keyboard in front of her. “…all those girls on your list.”
“Right. My list. I wouldn’t say I’ve gained expert level at kissing, but I’m pretty confident.” I smiled and gave her a wink. Of course I was kidding, but Lacey took everything so seriously.
“How will you answer it?” She tilted her head, looking very interested but also doubtful. “I mean, are you going to lay it out in steps?”
“Steps? No. More like rules,” I said. “I know how much you like rules.”
“The rules of kissing?” Her gaze lowered to my mouth and stayed there. She bit her lip as a soft pink flushed through her cheeks before jerking her gaze back up. “There are rules?”
“Only two. Rule one: the kiss must be consensual. Rule two: fresh breath.” Heck, no, I wasn’t a kissing expert, but like I’d said before, once a guy has a reputation—whether fairly earned or not—it stuck. And for whatever reason, girls assumed bad boys were good kissers. Go figure. That wasn’t to say I was a bad kisser. I hadn’t had any complaints so far, not that I’d kissed many girls, no matter what the rumors said about me. “After that, if you focus on the person you’re kissing and avoid overthinking, it should be a great kiss. If you can avoid thinking at all and just let your feelings guide you, then it might even be earth-shattering.”
“Okay, so you’re going to answer the ‘how to kiss’ question.” Lacey nodded slowly before reaching out and typing up a note. “As long as you don’t guarantee your rules will result in earth-shattering.”
“Ha! Nothing in life is guaranteed,” I said, my voice harsh and clipped. I’d learned that lesson a few years ago, and Barry happily reinforced it for me on a regular basis. “So, no. I won’t guarantee earth-shattering results. Not unless I’m the one doing the kissing.”
“You know, Grady, there’s confident and there’s cocky. I think you just found the border between the two.” Lacey rolled her eyes.
“It’s only cocky if I can’t back it up.” I waggled my eyebrows at her and grinned. “But if you’re worried about my advice, I’m happy to run through my technique with you. You know, for journalistic integrity.”
“Journalistic integrity?” She arched an eyebrow at me, but her lips wiggled like she was trying not to smile. “You went there?”
“Bad move, Grady,” I said to myself, making her snicker. “I’m usually a pretty cool guy, Lace, but something about being around you makes me do dumb stuff.”
Lacey laughed.
The one time I was serious, she thought I was kidding.
10
Eyes Open or Closed?
Lacey
The next day. “A” Lunch
“Lacey!” Ali called and waved her hand.
I’d just been though the cafeteria lunch line and was standing with my tray looking for Be
rnie. I didn’t see her anywhere, so I joined Ali.
“Come sit. We have questions.” Ali grinned from across the table. She was sitting with Shani and Ro from the bowling team.
“I’ll tell you what… If you each buy a raffle ticket, I’ll talk.” I opened my milk and took a drink.
“You don’t even know what our questions are,” Ali said.
“You don’t know what the raffle is for,” I countered.
“Yeah, I do. Last year’s flood victims. You talked Dax into buying two already.”
“Shoot, I’ll buy one.” Shani handed over two dollars and I passed her a ticket. “Now—how great a kisser is Grady Burnett?”
“What?” I froze with a forkful of lasagna halfway to my mouth. “How would I know that?”
“Research. Duh.” Shani rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you and Grady did kissing research for the ‘how to kiss’ column he’s writing.”
“How do you know about his column?”
“Jody Ball heard you two discussing it in the library and she told Gwen who told the whole cheerleading squad and giiirrrl you know what that means. It spread faster than a brush fire on a windy day. Every girl in school knows he’s writing a ‘how to kiss’ column. Now, about that research…”
“Do you honestly think he’d need more research?” I arched an eyebrow at her.
“No,” Shani said. “But I’d volunteer as tribute.”
Ro leaned forward. “Every girl in school has been wondering about Grady’s kissing expertise since the word got out about the article. It’s getting out of hand. In fact, if I hear one more girl wonder about it, I’ll kiss him myself just so I can answer the question and get everyone to shut up.”
“You should totally do it, Ro,” Ali said, making Ro snort.
“All I’m saying is”—Shani pointed her fork at me—”you’re crazy if you pass up that opportunity.”
Story of my life. Being too afraid to take risks equaled missed opportunities. I guess I’d just have to imagine what Grady kissed like along with all the other girls in school. Believe me, I was. Imagining. At the worst times too. Like in the middle of working on our column. Ugh.
The Good Girl & the Bad Boy: A Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 2) Page 5