by A. R. Perry
“We’ll see.” Braden grins at the road as he pulls out from the school parking lot.
The drive isn’t nearly long enough. I swear I blink and we’re there, idling in front of my house. Sure enough, my mom’s car is there in the driveway.
This is a bad idea. She’s going to be crabby. She works the early and late shifts today, which means she didn’t go for a run and is probably living off maybe five hours of sleep.
Braden squeezes my hand and I jump. He doesn’t look shocked or hurt. He simply motions to the door with his head.
“Let’s get this over with, lab partner.” With a wink, he hops out then opens the back door to grab both of our backpacks.
Why am I doing this again?
Because Braden makes your heart dance and is the only guy in the past two years who has been remotely interested in you.
Stupid brain.
I do a shimmy on the sidewalk, shaking out what anxiety I can.
So what if she doesn’t like him? Not the end of the world. Braden can go on living his life and move on to the next, more suitable girl.
Hell, he might do that anyway.
Braden appears by my side, motioning for me to walk. Easy for him. But I feel rooted to the ground.
“The sooner we get in there, the sooner your mom will love me,” he whispers in my ear. The chill down my spine is enough to kick start my legs.
Everything will be fine.
Mom will either love him or hate him.
Totally fine.
My hand touches the doorknob, twisting then cracking open the door.
Shit, this is a terrible idea.
“Stella? You’re home early.” My mom peeks around the corner from the kitchen, giving me a warm smile.
That smiles fades the second the door swings all the way open, and she sees Braden hovering behind me.
Did her eyes turn bloodred? I think her eyes just turned red.
Crap.
“And who is this?” Mom wanders out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the floral apron she has tied around her waist.
She knows exactly who it is. I can see the unadulterated anger on her face hidden under that super forced smile.
“This is Braden DiMarco. My lab partner…remember? We have an assignment we have to study for.”
“Braden.” My mom’s eyes find him, gliding from the top of his gorgeous head of hair all the way down to his blue Nikes.
I swear she looks as if she wants to eat him. And not in the same way I want to when he smiles at me. No, she looks like she wants to swallow him whole. Erase him completely.
“Stella, can I speak with you for a second?” She doesn’t wait, but turns and heads for the kitchen.
Braden lets out a low breath. “You weren’t kidding. She wants to kill me, doesn’t she?”
“Pretty much.” I wave to the couch. “Get comfy, this might be a minute.”
He kicks off his shoes as I head for the kitchen. The air is a thousand times warmer than the living room. Though maybe it’s my nervousness playing tricks on me. Funny thing, this is the only time I’ve deliberately disobeyed my mother.
“Sit.” My mom points to the kitchen chair as she flings the apron on the counter. “Did you fall and bump your head?” The chair next to me slides against the laminate, but I keep my eyes down.
“No.”
“Do you have sudden amnesia?”
“No.”
“Then please explain why that boy is here when we just had this conversation on Sunday.” Her voice is low, but I hear the venom in it.
“We have to study. He’s still my lab partner even if you don’t want me to tutor him.”
“Is there not a library at your school?”
“Of course, there is. But more people will see us there than here.”
Her bright pink nails tap on the worn wood surface of our kitchen table. “This can’t continue, Stella.”
“I don’t get it.” I swivel my gaze up so I can gage her reaction. “Weren’t you just telling me you wanted me to go to homecoming? Then all of a sudden I’m not allowed to hang out with anyone of the opposite sex. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Go to homecoming. Doesn’t mean you need to be spending all your free time with a boy.”
“He asked me.” Why am I telling her this? Do I want her to hate him more?
“To homecoming?” Her irritation shifts to surprise for a brief moment before hardening again. “That’s not the best idea. Is there no one else who wants to go?”
Not with me.
“I told him no. I told him I can’t date. I told him you don’t want me tutoring him.” I take a deep breath. “He’s still here. Coming to talk to you was his idea.”
A few seconds tick by where my mom is silent. Her nails still tap on the table and I can tell she’s mulling everything over. Braden might have a shot here. Not a big one, but it’s better than nothing.
“Do you like him?”
Yes.
I shrug. “Maybe.” I tend to block out those feelings ever since Jesse.
She stands. “Well, let’s go see what he has to say for himself.”
Oh, this can’t be good. I jump up, doing my best to cut off my mom and give Braden some kind of warning, but all her damn morning runs have made her quick on her feet. She reaches the couch where Braden is sitting, our biology book open on his lap.
“So.” Mom crosses her arms over her chest. “I get the feeling that more is going on here than studying.”
Braden snaps the book shut, and nods. “I like your daughter.”
“Why?”
Please kill me.
“Do you want the short or long answer?”
My mom smiles. “I want the truth.”
“Well for one, she has no issues with telling it like it is. In a world where everyone tries to do everything to fit a certain mold, she has no problem just being Stella.” His eyes find me hovering behind my mom. “I won’t lie to you, we’ve gone to the same school for over two years and I never noticed her before. Maybe she does a good job of not standing out, hiding in the crowd. Or maybe I was just too stupid to see her. It took her spilling hot coffee all over me on the first day, then her telling me to shove it for me to realize what I had been missing. How I had been going after all the same girls who want nothing more out of life than to be popular and date those of equal popularity.”
I’ve stopped breathing. My mom is silent.
“She is the most stubborn, closed-off, infuriating person on the planet sometimes, but…”
“But what?”
My heart is asking the same question.
“But I’d rather spend the few moments I can with her then spend months dating girls who would have no problem stabbing a best friend in the back if it got them what they wanted. Stella is real and I think I’m ready for real.”
I swear my mom’s eyebrows have risen to her hairline. Shit, I think mine have too. I’m in awe of every word he eloquently spoke to my mother. After Jesse I didn’t think anyone could want me especially after piecing myself back together and doing a pretty crap job. But here is Braden, a guy who could have anyone he wants, and he wants me.
“Well…” My mom glances my way. “You two get to studying. I have to get ready for work. Curfew is still ten.” She takes a step toward Braden who stands up. “You will not hurt my daughter.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Or distract her from her studies.”
“Never.”
With that she leaves. I’m shook, but the moment her door clicks shut, Braden throws me a triumphant smile.
“Told you. Parents love me.”
I smile too, but it wavers as he settles back on the couch. Does that mean everything he just said was a line to get my mom on his side?
Braden leaves ten minutes before ten. Not sure how I concentrated on schoolwork, but we knocked out all the bio homework and got a head start on English. Which is good since we have a quiz on Friday.
Brade
n didn’t bring up what he said. He sat in the armchair while I stretched out on the sofa. And he didn’t try to kiss me let alone touch me.
Officially confused.
My nightly routine takes forever. I swear I keep stopping, my thoughts turning to Braden and his so-called confession. At one point I stood there with my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth like a weirdo.
Moments after my head hits the pillow, my door flies open and my mom launches inside, flicking on the light and blinding the hell out of me.
“What the heck,” I hiss as my hand comes up to block out the offending overhead light.
No answer. Instead, she marches over to my closet doors and flings them open.
“He left before ten,” I mumble, rolling toward the window, and tugging the comforter over my head. It’s midnight. I’m beyond exhausted and get to wake up early and do the whole school thing all over again.
Yippee.
“Uh-huh.” Her weight on the mattress dips it to the side.
Is she checking under the bed?
I peek out from the corner of my comforter. Yup. She’s checking under my bed. Guess he didn’t sway her as much as he thought.
“I said he left before ten.”
“Can’t be too careful.” Her thumb and pointer finger come up to pinch her chin. “Maybe I should buy one of those nanny cams.”
“To watch us do homework? Riveting.” Knowing she won’t be letting me sleep anytime soon, I toss the covers off me and sit up. “Nothing happened besides studying.”
“But it could. You heard what he said about you. The boy is practically head over heels.”
“Yeah, I heard what he said. But he also needs me as his tutor…so.” I shrug, then yawn. Why can’t my mom be a normal mom who would never keep her daughter up past bedtime?
“You think he made all that up on the spot?”
“Who knows?”
Her gaze searches my face. “I don’t think he did. It was too genuine.”
“So now you’re on his side?”
Figures. The boy can get anything he wants. Makes me want to turn him down hard so his ego knows what it feels like.
“I’m not on anyone’s side, but yours. But I will say the boy has grown up so much since his mother’s accident.”
Her words stop all my revengeful thoughts cold in their tracks. “Accident?”
My mom makes herself comfortable on my bed, scootching me over so she can rest her head against the wooden headboard next to mine.
“Yeah. A little over a year and a half ago. His mom was in a horrible car accident. She was in the hospital for months. I remember hearing all the parents talk about it when they would come into the restaurant. She suffered a severe brain injury. Can’t walk anymore. Had to learn how to speak again. They had to close down her floral shop downtown.” My mom lets down her hair from the high ponytail she wore to work.
“His dad is in the military, always gone. Guess Braden had to take the brunt.”
I do my best to shut my mouth, but damn. Is this what Michelle meant when she talked about drama? Braden must not have much of a social life if he has to take care of his mother.
“I didn’t know any of that.”
“I didn’t remember at first either. After I left, I finally placed his name and face. He really has grown up.” She gives my shoulder a bump with hers. “A handsome young man.”
“Oh God, you sound like a senior when you say that.”
Her hand flies through the air, waving off my comment. “So, he told me how he felt. How do you feel about him?”
“Does it matter? I can’t date, remember?”
“I do remember saying that after the Jesse debacle.”
“And like hundreds of times since then including Sunday when you called me a slut.” Yikes. I didn’t realize I resented that comment so much until I hear the venom in my voice.
My mom’s arms are around me in a second, tugging me to her side. “Oh sweetie…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I know things have been tough on you. It’s no excuse, but Saturday night I served this awful family. I overheard their daughter going off about the school slut and how she stole her boyfriend right out from under her. I didn’t think anything of it until her mom mentioned your name. Then he was there Sunday, and everything boiled up.”
Great. Just great. I have a feeling I know exactly who that is.
“I didn’t steal him.”
“I know. Seems like he came to you willingly.”
“No clue why.”
Her hand smooths through my curls as I lean my head on her shoulder.
“Because you’re amazing. Just because that dickhead Jesse was too stupid to realize it, doesn’t make it any less true.
“Nice, Mom.”
“Just calling like I see it.”
I sigh. “Even if I was interested, I can’t date, remember?”
She goes silent. After a few minutes of us sitting together in silence, she clears her throat. “So what if I amend the rule?”
I lean away so I can see her face and read what she’s saying without words. Much like me, my mom has trouble hiding her emotions on her face. She’s smiling.
“What if I flex a little?”
“What does that even mean?”
“Well…you can date.” She holds up a hand when I open my mouth. “But casually. No love or forever. And please, for the love of God, no more sex stuff.”
What the hell do I say to that?
“But I also have to approve the guys first.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Why not arrange a marriage for me?”
“I might once you graduate.”
Dear Lord I think she’s serious.
She stands and gives me a peck on the top of my head. “Give it some thought.”
“About the arranged marriage?” I pull the covers back up and sink down into my pillow. “No need. No thanks.”
“About dating. Braden seems like a nice boy.”
Geez, he wasn’t kidding. Parents love him. She might not love him as much if she knew he was best friends with the guy who tried to ruin me. And she might never forgive me if I keep that from her.
“Hey, Mom.” Her tired eyes turn my way and she stifles a yawn. She uses all of her energy trying to provide for me. Shit. I can’t remember the last time she went on a date. And the last thing I need is for her tightening her grip when she just let go. Again. “I love you.”
Her smile makes my chest hurt. “I love you too, sweetie. Now get some sleep.”
Sleep. Yeah right.
She flicks off the light, then shuts my door. I lay on my back staring at the glowing stars I stuck to the ceiling when I was ten and obsessed with space. That obsession ended the moment my mom mentioned that my dad had the same love. He always used to take her out to the hill that overlooked Salt Lake City when life was simple. When they were high school sweethearts. Before me.
I don’t know why I never took them down. Maybe in some sick way I wanted to keep a line of connection if he ever came back into our lives.
Unlikely at this point.
Growling, I roll onto my side.
Guess I’ve always been in the crosshairs of the wrong kind of guys. The kind that use their love as leverage. Closed-off. Walled-up. Must be in my DNA too because that’s how I turned out. Craving love, but never open enough to accept it. Even when I was with Jesse. Even when it was good. I don’t think I ever fully let him in. In the end I guess that was for the best because, well, because Jesse is a dickhead.
But is Braden?
The sudden flip of my heart screams no. Stupid thing has never been too intuitive. Always right up front, ready to shout its feelings. But my gut, my brain, they’ve learned better over the years. From the bruises.
Maybe my mom is right. Maybe having a little fun isn’t such a bad idea. It might help me heal from all the crap.
And Braden is the perfect person to have fun with because he’ll come to his senses. I’m definitely not the girl f
or him. And if he wants real, then that’s what I’ll give him.
We decided against homecoming. And by we I mean me. Especially after Michelle was named queen and Jesse was named king. Double trouble. Not a combination I want to go against if I arrived with Braden. I kind of hope they end up together though because they deserve each other.
My mom was disappointed, but I didn’t have to listen to her moan and mope for long because she closes tonight.
Which is why I invited Braden over. No Mom. No homecoming. No pressure. Just movies, junk food and a good time.
At six on the dot the doorbell rings. Braden mentioned Michelle and the rest of the group planned on going to dinner before the dance. So I told him to wait and to park a couple blocks away. No need to inform the world of our hangout especially after all the nasty looks and threatening remarks.
A smile lights up his face when I answer the door. When his gaze travels lower, the joy on his face multiplies.
I’m wearing the sweatshirt he loaned me. Currently, I have no plans to return it anytime soon. But judging from his reaction he doesn’t mind.
“I brought junk food.” He holds up a paper bag from the grocery store down the street. “Please tell me we can finish that show.”
Ah, the sci-fi. Not what I had in mind.
He kicks off his shoes once I move out of the doorway and deeper into the living room. “So what did you bring?” My finger hooks around the edge of the bag and I peer inside.
“Soda.” He brushes past me headed for the coffee table. “And since I didn’t know what you prefer, I got popcorn, potato chips and enough candy to put Halloween to shame.”
“Sounds like the perfect binge-fest.” He nods, then slips off his jacket. I try not to let my eyes linger on his arms, but come on, he’s wearing a short-sleeved gray T-shirt and the thing is outlining every muscle through the thin fabric.
“I also got you this.” He pulls a plastic box out of the bag and tucks it behind his back. “But first I want you to promise me there will be no arguments.”
“I can’t do that.”
“It’s nonnegotiable.”
“I don’t even know what it is.” I step forward, reaching for one of his arms, but he shifts backward, tugging out of my grasp.
