“You know—” I gestured at the shake with a limp fry “—it’s nice that your dad does these kinds of things for you. You’re really lucky.”
He shrugged and turned onto a busy street. “Yeah, I guess I don’t really think about it that much. It’s just ice cream.”
“No. It’s just ice cream until there’s no more ice cream, and you realize how much you miss it.”
His gaze slid off the road and landed on me for a long moment. I cringed, realizing what I’d almost let slip. All of this talk about ice cream had me missing the old version of my parents—the dad that got up early on a Saturday morning to make chocolate chip pancakes and watch cartoons with me and the mom who used to tuck me into bed every night. I never thought much about it until it was gone.
“I guess you’re right,” he said, going back to watch the road. His eyebrows knit together in a pained expression. “It’s not just ice cream. Dad’s always been like that, though. I guess I take it for granted. You would think I’d be better at stuff like that, especially with my mom and all.”
It was surprising to hear Jimmy talk like that. It wasn’t a secret that his mom had died in a car accident when he was young, but I never could’ve guessed how it affected him now. Behind that suave smile, there were real emotions.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring all of that up.” I glared down at the shake in my hands, mentally berating myself. “I mean, it sucks that my mom’s hundreds of miles away, and my dad is busy with his own stuff, but I’ve still got it pretty good. I shouldn’t complain.”
He glanced at me with a serious glint in his eyes. “Everyone has the right to complain once in a while. I mean, I could complain right now that you’re blackmailing me and ruining this whole carefully crafted, wild bachelor image I’ve built, but I won’t. See how generous I am? See how wrong it would be to submit that article to the newspaper?”
A small smile worked its way onto my face, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He just wouldn’t give up. And as he pulled the Honda onto a residential street and parked along the curb, I leaned onto the armrest and wrinkled my nose at him.
“You know, you can try, but this is one thing you can’t charm your way out of, Jimmy Alston.”
His eyes glittered with laughter, and he leaned in close enough for me to catch the wintery mint scent on his breath. “So, you do think I’m charming?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I found myself staring at his lips. Dang it, he really did have a beautiful mouth. The kind that caused women to fall over themselves in romance novels. And that grin—that grin that said he knew exactly what I was thinking—it made odd things happen in the pit of my stomach.
“We’re here.”
The sound of Jimmy’s voice broke my concentration. I glanced out the windshield to see a line of cars stretching down the block and around the corner.
“Where is here?”
“Our date.” He flashed a smile and then popped a fry in his mouth, automatically returning my gaze to his mouth. Dang, he was good. “Andy Carlyle’s party. I figure if we mingle a bit and do whatever couples do, then everyone will think we’re for real.”
“What?”
Horror rushed through me as his words sunk in. I’d been prepared for a normal, teenaged-type date with Jimmy. Maybe a movie or something innocent. What I hadn’t been planning on was attending a party around dozens of Sweet Mountain High kids on Jimmy’s arm. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been to a party before, but it was always with the intention of getting a scoop. This was different. So very different.
What did couples do at parties like Andy Carlyle’s anyway? Why had I never paid attention? If it was anything like TV, I imagined they got sloppy and fell all over each other, made out in the dark corners of the house, and went skinny dipping in the pool.
That was a big nope for me.
Not happening.
Not even to cement our couple-ness, as Jimmy had said. I wasn’t leaving this car.
My fingers hovered over my phone, totally ready to text Raquel to come to my rescue when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lindsey and Dale. They were being all kissy kissy over each other and slowly walking up to a nearby house with gray shutters. After a brief wait on the porch, the door swung open, and Lindsey and Dale went inside.
Suddenly, all of my reserves went up in a cloud of smoke. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stuffed a last handful of fries into my mouth for salty courage.
No backing down now.
We were in battle mode.
10
Jimmy
Once again, I’d underestimated Mia Jackson. I thought for sure that when I showed up with greasy fast food from a bag and a surprise house party that she’d find herself a dark corner and disappear for most of the night, leaving me to enjoy myself like I usually did at these things. Being the center of attention just wasn’t her thing.
And now she was playing darts with half of the baseball team.
I watched her from my stool in Andy’s game room as one of the sophomores showed her how to toss the dart from the line. She listened carefully and then tried out the new technique. And when it landed close to the bullseye, she gave a shriek of excitement and high-fived all of the guys nearby.
“I’d say Mia is a hit with the boys,” Andy Carlyle said, grabbing the bench next to me. “Be careful, or she might leave with someone else tonight.”
He had a red solo cup in his hands and a teasing grin on his face. Andy and I had been friends and teammates for as long as I could remember. His black hair was neatly trimmed, and his chin clean-shaven. He came from a long line of military men and was ready to enlist the moment we graduated. If the camo jacket that hung loose on his thin, wiry frame or thick-soled boots didn’t give it away, the American eagle tattooed across his chest in dark ink sure did.
I couldn’t help but growl into my cup at Andy’s words. Apparently, Mia saved all of her attitude for one person, and that person was me. Who would’ve imagined that she could blend in so well with the jocks? Definitely not me. My plan to get her to dump me was backfiring.
“Dude, I was just joking with you.” Andy watched me with concern growing in his eyes. “No one’s scamming on your girl. It’s part of the bro code. Can’t have our star pitcher getting all jealous.”
I barked out a laugh. “I’m not jealous.”
Jealousy wasn’t even in the ballpark. Mia could flirt with every guy in Sweet Mountain High, for all I cared. Maybe then, she’d actually find a real boyfriend.
Andy cocked an eyebrow. “Sure…”
“I’m not.” Glowering at him, I took a sip of my drink and frowned. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind tonight.”
Andy went all quiet for a moment and then looked around as if to make sure no one could hear him. “Is it about the shed? ‘Cuz, dude, you shouldn’t have to take the heat for that. I was the jerk who thought it would be funny to light a firecracker near the fuel tanks. It’s my fault. I should take the blame.”
“No.” I glared at him. “Don’t say that. The whole thing was my idea. You guys wanted to play Borderlands and stuff yourselves with pizza. I made the plans, I take the fall. That’s the final word on it. You understand me, soldier?”
With a defeated sigh, Andy saluted me. “Sir, yes, sir.”
We fell silent as I watched Mia shoot her last hand of darts. There wasn’t a lot I could do about my current predicament of having an ax hanging over my head, but I could keep my end of the bargain with Mia. As long as she kept that article tucked away at the back of her desk for the rest of time, we were cool.
Slipping off my stool, I approached her from the back and wrapped my arms around her, catching a strong scent of coconut in her mass of curls. There was no missing the slight tremor of her body against my chest. It seemed that no matter how big a game Mia played, she still couldn’t help but flinch every time I touched her. A dark sensation swirled in my gut. It felt an awful lot like disappointment.
“Hey, babe.” I pulled back her
hair to kiss her cheek, and she squirmed slightly. “Let’s go dance.”
She placed a hand on the arm that was still wrapped around her, and heat worked its way up my skin. “Dance? Really? Like, right now? With you?”
I wasn’t sure why the idea had come to me. I came here tonight, fully expecting to drop Mia off at some couch and live my life. But I just couldn’t seem to stomach the idea of her standing in the middle of a group of my friends without me, being all chummy. That definitely wasn’t how a relationship went. I didn’t know much, but I knew that.
“Yep,” I said quietly. “They’ve got music on upstairs. People will be kind of suspicious if we don’t dance together, don’t you think?”
I could sense the change in her demeanor, even if I couldn’t see her face. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s go.”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the staircase. The guys booed as we left, but she just waved and smiled at them. It was as if she’d always been a part of their crowd. And she certainly didn’t mind being around them.
Another strange dark emotion twinged in my gut. I tightened my hold on her hand and kept my eyes glued to the stairs.
“Your friends are…nice.” Mia looked up at me as we headed toward the thumping sound of a bass speaker. “They’re actually really fun.”
I smirked. “You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am.” She wrinkled her nose in that silly way she did whenever she was thinking. “I really haven’t spent that much time around jocks. I thought you guys were descended from cavemen, but maybe I was being prejudiced. Some of those guys are pretty smart. And nice.”
Mia was kind of hilarious. She acted as if we were a totally different species, but there really wasn’t much difference between us. We all chased after different dreams. For me, it was a scholarship to get out of this place and make my mom proud. For her, it was writing for the newspaper. Different sides of the same coin.
“Oh, don’t worry, you’re not far off with that whole caveman thing,” I said as we entered the living room where at least two dozen couples already swayed in circles on the makeshift dance floor. Throwing her a smile, I chuckled. “We jocks still carry clubs. We just upgraded them for baseball bats.”
The laughter that burst from her lips reminded me of the bells hanging in the steeple above Dad’s church. I got a sudden and strange burst of pride, knowing I was the one who made her smile and wipe tears of humor from her eyes.
“I’ve got to write that one down.” She dropped my hand to reach for a pocket in her skirt. Taking out her tiny notebook, she began to scribble in barely legible handwriting.
“Don’t tell me you brought that thing.” My eyes grew wide. “Seriously, do you go anywhere without it?”
The look she shot me was deadly serious. “Nope.”
The only thing I could do was shake my head. The girl was such a geek—in an adorable, frustrating way. But I waited until she was done and had tucked her notebook back in the pocket of her cheetah print skirt that showed off just the right amount of leg to make it seriously distracting.
“Okay, I think I’m ready to dance,” she said with a deep breath.
It was about time. I made a move toward the floor but stopped when I saw her biting her bottom lip. “What’s wrong?”
“I just…” She swallowed hard, and her voice grew quiet. “I don’t think I’m a very good dancer. And I’ve definitely never danced like that.”
I followed the direction of her gaze to see Lindsey and Dale already on the dance floor. Dale stood behind his girlfriend, his hands running up and down the sides of her body. She was swaying her hips dangerously, lowering herself down as far as the mini skirt she was wearing would allow.
I didn’t blame Mia for feeling nervous. That kind of dancing was a little intense. We’d take it slow.
She’d made herself pretty clear—this was a business transaction. There would be no crossing the line on the dance floor. Just enough to make everyone believe that we really were a couple.
“Don’t worry,” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the floor. “Follow my lead.”
We found ourselves in the middle of the crowd. The song had just changed to something with a steady beat. I took her arms and draped them around my neck, our chests close enough that I could sense the heat from her body. Nerves seemed to darken her brown eyes. And when I placed my hands lightly on her hips, her eyes grew wide.
“Am I doing this right?” She stepped in just a bit closer and swayed a bit, her tongue darting out of her mouth to wet her lips. “Promise me you’ll tell me if I look like a total dork.”
“No.” I swayed with her, feeling a strange kind of heat burst alive inside my gut. For someone who had never danced like this, she was a natural. “Definitely not a dork.”
She smiled, and I got another burst of heat. “Good.”
I gulped as she really began to let loose and jump to the beat of the music, her eyes closing and a soft smile playing on her lips. Mia was not only good at dancing, but kind of mesmerizing. It was impossible to look away from her glowing face or the way she occasionally threw one of her hands up in the air.
Honestly, before tonight, I didn’t think she had it in her to enjoy a high school party. The girl had always seemed so buttoned up. So strict and glued to her notepad. But she blended in with this crowd as good as anyone. And having her arms about the back of my neck was making my skin burn like it was on fire.
Fire and gasoline. Dad was always right on the money.
Dang it, clearly, I had not thought this plan through. We should’ve stuck to darts in the basement. Being this close to Mia was affecting me in a way I couldn’t control.
As the song changed into something a bit faster, I tried to think of anything—anything!—to keep my brain from turning into scrambled eggs. The only thing I could focus on was the clock hanging on the wall above Andy’s big-screened TV. It was as if time had frozen me in this moment, daring me to break free.
“It’s getting late,” I yelled loudly over the music. Putting an end to this date was the only way I could think of to get my insides back to normal. “Is your dad going to be waiting up with a shotgun for when I bring you home?”
That made her eyelids spring open. She stopped jumping, the smile melting from her face. For a second, I saw pure and utter sadness reflecting behind those glasses. Guilt filled my chest for some reason.
“No. He probably won’t even remember I went out.” She dropped her hands from my neck and put some distance between us. Her expression was guarded, the sorrow I’d just seen a second ago hidden behind hardened eyes. “But you’re right. It’s getting late. I should be getting home. I’ll go get my purse.”
I wanted to kick myself as she walked off the dance floor. Was I the biggest jerk in the world? This was the first time I’d really seen Mia enjoy herself. There was something behind those red glasses and brown eyes, something that told me she hadn’t been able to let loose in a very long time. A sadness that I could feel in my soul. For a moment, that sadness had dissolved, and I’d gone and blown it.
All because I couldn’t handle my raging teenage boy testosterone levels for ten minutes.
I’d better pray that Mia didn’t decide to back out of our deal now.
11
Mia
Monday mornings used to be a thing of misery for me. Walking into the high school, seeing that rack of freshly printed Prowler newspapers, and knowing that my writing wasn’t inside it. But today—today was different. Because for the very first time, the name Mia Jackson was printed in bold black ink on the second page.
I snatched up a copy the moment I saw them, but I didn’t open it. I couldn’t. Instead, I kept it clutched tight to my chest and continued to my locker. Everywhere I looked, people carried their own copies of The Prowler. It felt like a dream.
Just like seeing Jimmy leaning casually next to my locker as I came down the hall.
“There’s a brand new issue of ‘Dear
Mia’ in today’s paper.” He held up The Prowler in his right hand. “It’s called ‘Dear Mia, How Do I Stop Falling for Players?’ Have you seen it?”
I tried to hide my smile by opening my locker door. I hadn’t seen Jimmy since he dropped me off at my house Friday night. That had been an awkward goodbye. Probably more awkward than the ending of a real date. Just a quick goodbye, and then I ran away to find my computer and type out everything I could remember for possible future articles. Seeing him this morning brought back some of that awkwardness.
And memories of dancing in his arms.
“No, I haven’t. Is it any good?”
“Don’t tell the author, but I think it might be a hit. Here, let me read you my favorite part.” Opening it to the second page, he read aloud, “If there’s one time in a girl’s life when she ought to feel empowered, it’s when she has the ability to stand up for herself and say that she will no longer be used or toyed with. Women deserve to be treated with respect. Allowing a man into her life who can’t be bothered with even an ounce of commitment is setting herself up for a long period of pain and self-doubt. Don’t do it, ladies. Let the player play by himself.”
I sighed at the sound of my words coming out of his mouth. He had a wonderful, deep tenor that added such life to my article. I could’ve listened to him read it all day, even if some of the inspiration for that article had come directly from him—the man who didn’t do relationships.
To be honest, I’d come up with that question myself and written it days ago, after hearing him tell his buddies in the weight lifting room that I was as good as any girl. Getting my thoughts all on paper had been like therapy. Concrete reasons written down in black and white of why a girl like me would never fall for a guy like that.
My Fake Boyfriend Page 6
