The Good Girl & the Bad Boy: A Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 2)

by M. L. Collins

  “Grady…”

  “Promise me, Lace.”

  “Okay, okay. I promise, you weirdo.”

  16

  If It Will Help, My Answer’s Going to Be “Yes”

  Lacey

  “Enough about me. Tell me something about you. Do you spend time with your real dad since your parents divorced?”

  “Nope. Haven’t seen him since breakfast the day he split when I was in sixth grade. He didn’t even say goodbye. He was just gone when I got home from school. No note. No ‘sorry, Grady, your mom and I have grown apart.’ No ‘I love you, son, and I’ll always be a part of your life.’”

  “That’s horrible. It must have been such a shock at your age.”

  “Yeah. For years, I used to run memories through my head, looking for what I might have done to make my dad not love me. There must have been something, since dads love their sons. Ha! Even when I was older and smart enough to know it wasn’t really about me—I couldn’t stop doing it. It’s hard to accept your own father never loved you. When I was in eighth grade, Mom met Barry, and my little heart got excited thinking I’d have a daddy after all. Only Barry’s not really into the step-father gig any more than my real dad was.”

  My heart broke for Grady, hearing his pain. Pain he hid away, yet it still held him in its grip. Maybe he was afraid if he let it go it would swallow him whole.

  “Shoot. Listen to me.” He grimaced and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “There are kids in the world who have real problems. Like dads or step-dads who are abusive. It’s not like Barry hits me, so who am I to complain? When I think of what I’d say to my mother, it sounds pitiful. Like boo-hoo, he doesn’t love me enough. Or at all. So, it’s just the way it is.”

  “I’m sorry, Grady.”

  “I think the worst thing is it feels like I lost my mom when Barry and his boys entered the picture. We used to spend time together. She used to listen to me play. That doesn’t happen anymore. Not since Barry decreed I was wasting my time. I miss having someone in my corner. Those parents who show up at every game or performance to yell like crazy and take pictures until it’s embarrassing. But mostly just someone to give a damn. Someone to believe in me.”

  “After hearing you today, I can’t imagine how she couldn’t believe in you. How anyone couldn’t believe in you. When you sang lead vocals, you had the crowd mesmerized. Had me mesmerized. You’re very good.”

  He turned his head to me, his lips tilting up slightly. “It takes more than good to make it in the music industry today. It takes—”

  “Something special. You are, Grady.”

  “Something special?” He shook his head. “I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else…I actually did apply to colleges. Did the whole early admissions deal. Juilliard in New York, Curtis Institute in Pennsylvania, and a few more. Even a couple here in Texas with good music programs like Rice and UT. I had a friend help me make a professional demo tape.”

  “Good. I’m glad you didn’t listen to all the naysayers.”

  “Yeah, well, it turns out they knew what they were talking about.” Grady ran a hand around the back of his neck and huffed out a breath. “I got rejected from them all. Every last one.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. I’ve been rejected from some of my reach schools too. Send out another batch.”

  “I appreciate it, Lace, but more than a few people in my life have set me straight. I’ve been advised in no uncertain terms that music is a waste of time. A luxury I can’t afford. It’s a naïve pipe dream I’m clinging to in order to avoid dealing with reality and my future.”

  “Who would say that after listening to you? Anyone who says your music is a waste of time is…is… a jealous, small-minded…dweezlehopper.”

  Grady burst out laughing.

  “I’m not kidding.”

  “I know.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.

  I relaxed into him, resting my head on his shoulder. Giving in to the perfect moment.

  “I’ll take this right here. Lacey Jane Trueheart in my corner. I like this a lot.”

  “It doesn’t stink,” I said, giggling when he tugged one of my curls.

  “I owe you another apology,” Grady said.

  “Hmmm…” I almost didn’t want to know what else. Everything felt pretty perfect right where we were and I was afraid to mess it up.

  “Do you remember back in tenth grade? Biology class and the project we were assigned together?”

  “Ancient history.” I remembered. I remembered still feeling pretty pissed only a few weeks ago, the day we were assigned the advice column together. That anger had disappeared.

  “The day we got assigned the project together my mom and Barry tied the knot at City Hall. I came home from school to the news. Surprise! Barry pulled me aside and let me know he wasn’t happy about raising another man’s kid. He said a few other things. The point is, it was not a good time in my life. I rebelled and went wild. You got caught in the fall out.”

  I knew he didn’t want my tears. He’d hate it if I cried over him, so I wrapped my arms a little tighter around his chest until my eyes stopped stinging.

  “You aren’t going to want to hear this, Grady, but I’m going to say it anyway.” I sucked in a breath and lifted my head from his shoulder to look into his eyes. “That whole bad boy reputation you have? I think the whole thing is a sham. A fake.”

  “You do, huh?”

  “I do. You’re a good guy, Grady Burnett.” One of the best. Stronger than anyone at school could imagine. He came across as a bad boy who couldn’t care less. He cared. He cared a lot. Only he kept getting knocked down.

  “Well, don’t tell anyone.” He growled like he was serious. “How about this. You don’t tell anyone I’m not the bad boy everyone thinks I am, and I won’t tell everyone you aren’t Little Miss Perfect.”

  “Deal,” I said, snickering into his shoulder.

  “Here’s another offer…I’ll let you rehabilitate the bad boy.” He unwrapped my arms from around his chest and turned so we were facing each other. “And I’ll help you discover your inner bad girl.”

  “I thought we just established that you don’t have a bad boy to rehabilitate.”

  “Then you’ll have an easy job,” he said.

  “I’m not thrilled with the ‘bad girl’ term. I thought you said I needed to stop worrying and let go. I don’t have to be a bad girl to do that.”

  “True. That’s absolutely right. You simply have to learn to let go and take a risk. A leap of faith. In fact, let’s try it right now.”

  “Right now?” I sat up straight, my stomach already churning. “I’m not ready.”

  “That’s the whole point, Trueheart. I’m not asking you to throw caution to the wind. Run it through my handy-dandy Grady Burnett risk checklist: is it illegal? Physically dangerous? Can you afford it? How bad do you want it? Will you regret not doing it?”

  “Okay.” A checklist for risks. I did love lists. “Let’s do this. What is it?”

  “Whoa, don’t you think you’re too trusting? You can’t just do any old thing someone suggests.” His lips wobbled until I pinched him. “Ow. Okay, kidding. Ready?”

  “Ready.” I nodded and pulled in a breath.

  “Go ahead and say it.” His eyes focused on my mouth.

  “Say what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do.” He raised his gaze up to mine. “We both feel it. The attraction. Take the risk, Lacey. If it will help any, my answer’s going to be ‘yes.’ Yes to anything you want. What are you thinking about right now?”

  “K-kissing. Us…kissing. You know, you and me.”

  “Do it.”

  “Wait, what? Me?”

  “It’s a risky move, but I think you can handle it.”

  “I’ve only kissed one boy before. You’ve probably kissed a lot of girls.”

  “Not as many as you’d think. But
a few. And this will make me sound like a douche, but based on what I’m feeling right now—they didn’t mean anything.”

  Kiss Grady. Just thinking about it released a kaleidoscope of over-caffeinated butterflies loose in my chest. Risk checklist: Was it illegal? No. Physically dangerous? No. Could I afford it? Maybe. How bad did I want it? Very. Will I regret not doing it? Yes. Definitely yes.

  I leaned forward and pressed my lips to Grady’s. He slid his hand through my hair and around my head, taking control of the kiss and taking my breath away. It was everything you’d think a bad boy’s kiss would be. I finally had to pull away when I ran out of air.

  “Dang, Lacey Jane. Another thing you’re perfect at.”

  Monday morning on the way to school

  “You’re kidding, right?” Bernie frowned at me from the passenger seat. Like a major frown. “You want to sell your car?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, knowing while it was crazy, it was the right thing to do. “That’s my plan.”

  “You just bought it four months ago. It’s in perfect condition.”

  “I know. So I should almost break even.”

  “That’s not how it works. But more importantly, why do you want to do this?”

  “I need to pay Grady for his guitar. Or, better yet, buy him a new one.”

  “You already did.” She squinted one eye at me.

  “Not nearly enough. I heard him play on Saturday, Bernie, and he’s—wow—he’s gifted. Now I understand why losing his Fender was a big deal.”

  “Are you sure?” Bernie looked hard into my eyes. “How will you get around?”

  I shrugged. “Bum rides with you and Tracey?”

  “Tracey? Great plan, except you and Tracey don’t get along.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I’m working on that. So, this is actually a good thing.” I sent Bernie my cheesy “this is such a great plan” grin. One she’d seen before. “Please will you help me sell it?”

  “It’s going to be painful, but yes. I’ll put an ad up on the bulletin board at the shop.”

  “Thanks, Bernie. Now all I have to do is find the perfect Fender Stratocaster.”

  “That I can’t help you with.”

  “No, I know. I’ve already got a lead on that.”

  Hopefully it wouldn’t take Bernie long to sell my car. I’d called Derek’s Guitars yesterday, and Derek said he’d be able to order the style and model Fender I wanted. Then, after all the dominos fell in place, all I had to do was figure out the best time to give it to Grady.

  Honestly, this wasn’t about feeling guilty. This was about the fact that the cheap replacement didn’t do Grady’s playing justice. And maybe a bit about the fact that the guy had taken a lot of hits in his life, and he got back up every time and kept going. It felt like he was due for something good.

  17

  Who Are You Calling? The Fun Police?

  Lacey

  One Week Later

  I was sitting in journalism class—no Grady yet, but sometimes he didn’t stroll in until halfway through—when I got called down to the front office over the intercom.

  I didn’t worry until I saw Tracey sitting inside also. What the heck? I quickly entered, moving over to check on Tracey, but before I even got to her Principal Barstow was standing in front of me, his face wrinkled with concern.

  “Lacey, I’m sorry to have to tell you, but your Aunt Mildred passed away this morning.”

  “My Aunt Mildred?”

  Tracey sniffed loudly and grabbed my hand.

  “Your father said to assure you she went peacefully in her sleep.”

  “In her sleep?” Promise me you won’t forget Aunt Mildred.

  Tracey dropped her forehead on my shoulder and cried softly.

  “Yes. Peacefully. Your uncle should be here any moment to pick you up. Your teachers have all given you an extension on any assignments or exams. You have my condolences.”

  Tracey lifted her head, wiping her running eye-liner from her cheeks. “Thank you. She was our favorite Aunt. I already miss her. What are we going to do without her, Lacey?”

  “I have no idea.” Part of me—rule-following me—was freaking out inside. But the Lacey who wished to be more like my sister? That girl was nervous, excited, and ready to dash out to her “uncle’s” car. I was so conflicted that I made rule-following Lacey and ready-to-risk Lacey do rock/paper/scissors in my head.

  “Come on, Lacey. We need to be with family now.” Tracey tugged me out of the office and out the front doors where, sure enough, Grady sat waiting—in my car, no less—at the curb.

  “Was this your idea?” I asked as Tracey dragged me to the curb.

  “I had nothing to do with this.” Tracey opened the back door and stuck her foot in. “So, discuss it with him, but inside the car please.”

  I slid into the passenger seat, closing the door rather firmly before turning to Grady. “You have three seconds to explain what the heck is going on.”

  “You need a day off from being perfect. So, we’re pulling a Ferris Bueller.” He put the car in gear, adjusted the rear-view mirror and stepped on the gas. “Buckle up, Lacey.”

  “This is…a bad idea.” I buckled in as quickly as I could, my stomach twisting as we left the school parking lot. “I think I might even throw up.”

  “Risk-taking is not for the faint of heart.”

  “Why did you drag Tracey into this? She can’t afford to get caught skipping.”

  “I wouldn’t have, except you’re twins. Pretty sure Barstow would have sniffed us out if only one of you had left.”

  “Not really,” Tracey called from the back seat. “Aunt Mildred always did like Lacey better. Hey, drop me here. Mo’s has an all-you-can eat pizza bar. Don’t forget you promised to get me back by fifth period.”

  “We’ll be back at noon.” Grady pulled into the Mo’s parking lot to let Tracey out. “Or earlier if your sister tosses her cookies.”

  “Still a possibility,” I said, as Tracey grinned at me and disappeared into Mo’s. “Cheese and crackers, I’ve only been skipping for five minutes and I already hate it. I can’t take the stress.”

  “You’re going to have to relax or this will be no fun, and then what’s the point?” Grady steered the car back out onto Green Street and into the heart of town. “Very sweet car, by the way.”

  Every bad scenario ran through my brain like a streaker across a football field. I saw my mother’s shocked face. My teachers shaking their heads in disappointment. My grades plummeting in a free-fall. I pulled out my phone and made a call, nervously waiting for it to connect.

  “Who are you calling? The fun police?” Grady asked, shooting a glance my way before looking back at the road ahead.

  “Sort of. Hey, Mom. I—I just wanted to let you know I’m skipping school.” I darted my gaze over to Grady who shook his head and snickered. “Not the whole day though. Just until fifth period. What do you mean you know? Grady called you? And you’re cool with it? Oh, okay. Sure, I’ll try to enjoy it. Love you.”

  I ended the call, took a moment to process everything, and then punched Grady in the arm.

  “Ow.”

  “You told my mother I was going to skip?”

  “You’re new at this rule-breaking deal and I figured you’d worry, so I ran it by your parents. I took full responsibility in case they were shocked at the idea, but they got right on board the ‘Lacey needs to loosen her grip’ train. I even let them know I was killing off Aunt Mildred. Your dad said that was fine since he’d never liked her anyway.”

  “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  “I’m crazy? Who calls their mom to tell them they’re skipping class while they’re skipping class? Lacey Jane Trueheart, that’s who.”

  “Any chance you actually let Principal Barstow in on it too?” I asked, although knowing my parents knew had taken most of my queasiness away.

  “Sorry, no. You have to break some rule to have it qualify as an official skip day.” He grinned and
turned into the Devil’s Lap Mall and Emporium parking lot. “Although, out of deference to your rule-following heart, I’ve planned this out to fit in a three hour-window.”

  “You really get me.” I stared into his green eyes and went a little light headed. Pull it together, Lacey. I dragged my gaze away and looked out the window. “Oh, so we’re shopping? Huh. I didn’t picture you as a shopper.”

  “We’re not going shopping. We’re recreating Ferris Bueller’s skip day. Only, not Chicago. Right here in Devil’s Lap, so I’ve had to improvise.”

  “How in the world can you improvise the Sears Tower, one of the tallest buildings in the world, by the way, the trading floor of the Chicago Board of Trade, a fancy French restaurant, the Art Institute of Chicago and a huge parade?” I blinked into his grinning face, totally stumped on how he’d pull that off. “Right here in our dinky little town?”

  “Oh, ye of little faith. Let’s go.”

  We entered the mall through the food court (which meant ignoring the sweet siren scent of cinnamon rolls) and rode the escalator up to the second floor. Our mall was on the small size and only one store had a second floor: Sears.

  Grady stopped in front and held out his hand, palm up. “Ta-da.”

  “Not the Sears Tower, but Sears.” I laughed so loud that two mall walkers dressed in spandex jerked their heads around and frowned. They probably knew we were skipping.

  “Come over here.” Grady led me by the hand over to the clear glass railing of the second floor. “Now look down. Cool, right?”

  “This height is making me dizzy,” I joked. “And the people look like ants. No wait—never mind. Those are actually ants.”

  “Hey, it was either this or climb up the water tower. I figured you’d like this better.”

  “You figured right.”

  “Clock’s ticking. Time to move on, Trueheart.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and steered us out of the mall and back to the car. “You’re in charge of the tunes. Choose wisely.”