by Amanda Ashby
“She told me too, and I know she needs help. So, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll help. Everyone’s a winner.”
“What if she says no?”
Then Myles will know I’m lying, and I’ll be screwed.
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t.” His foot twitched.
“If you’re serious about this, at least promise you won’t mess around with her and get all flirty.”
“I don’t flirt with everyone I meet,” he protested.
“Yes you do. I even caught you flirting with Mrs. Norris the other day,” she said, referring to their eighty-year-old neighbor who’d supplied him with an endless amount of cookies over the years. “You have an incessant need to make people like you.”
That was a fair call.
In his experience, life was a lot easier when people were nice to him. Things were calmer. More relaxing.
“I guess it’s oldest child syndrome,” he said with a shrug. Via’s mouth twitched, like it did every time he reminded her he’d been born twenty-one minutes before her.
“Stop turning everything into a joke. I’m serious.”
“Relax. I’m not like that with Norah,” he said, then winced as their conversation in the corridor flashed into his mind. The part where he’d told her she was good at talking dirty. “Okay, not much. Anyway, she didn’t flirt back. I get the feeling she thinks I’m just a dumb jock.”
He couldn’t blame her. She’d spent her summer building toilets for a village he’d never even heard of, and he’d spent his time getting caught in a stupid drama that ended with him getting kicked off the team.
“Norah wouldn’t think that.” Via’s eyes flashed. His twin had a fierce streak in her that only came up every now and again. Usually in his defense.
“I like your optimism.”
“I’m serious. You’ve got more street smarts in your little finger than most people have in their entire body, and you can charm your way out of just about anything.”
“I must remember to put those skills onto my college application,” he said, then regretted it when Via’s cheeks colored. He sighed. “Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson. No flirting. Scout’s honor.”
“You were kicked out of Scouts when you put a fake snake in someone’s sleeping bag,” she reminded him. He bit back a smile. It had been hilarious and totally worth it.
“All the same, I mean it. No more messing up. I want to get back on the team and dazzle the scouts.” And it was true. Yes, Norah was gorgeous, but it wasn’t like it could go anywhere. He didn’t date, and she was busy saving the world.
“You will, big brother,” she said, and he grinned. It meant she’d forgiven him. “She lives at sixty-five Crescent Drive. Big house on the corner. It has a red roof. Just promise me if she says no, you’ll respect her wishes.”
“Of course,” he said.
By way of answer she threw the scatter pillow at him. He dropped it onto his foot and kicked it back. This was going to work, he knew it.
3
Norah turned up the music, but it couldn’t cut out the sound of the power tools that echoed throughout the house. Her mom and stepfather had decided to get the old dilapidated kitchen replaced before the baby was born. And while Norah knew it made sense in theory, she wasn’t sure why it had to be so loud.
She rubbed her temples and tried to ease the headache that was forming. It wasn’t just from the noise.
She stared at the latest email.
Thank you for your recent request. Unfortunately our charity budget has already been allocated for the quarter. Good luck with your endeavors.
It was the fifth one she’d received since she got home from school. She deleted it and shut the screen.
She’d send out some more emails tonight, and tomorrow she’d meet with Piper and Gareth and they’d come up with a plan.
Finally the noise stopped, and ten minutes later she ventured downstairs, her stomach growling. All she’d eaten since lunch were three jellybeans before Zac had managed to drown the rest.
Zac Mackenzie. Another thing not to think about.
For the last year, the closest she’d come to him was watching him jog past her stepdad’s dealership while she washed cars. From a distance he was magnificent, but up close he was even more dazzling. Which probably explained why all afternoon she’d been reliving their conversation.
Not to mention improving it.
Especially the part where she’d failed to flirt with him.
At least now she had a whole list of witty rejoinders in case he ever crashed into her card table for a second time. She was nothing if not prepared.
Not that it was relevant.
Having a social life and organizing a charity auction were mutually exclusive.
“Ah.” Her mom looked up from where she was leaning against the counter. There was plastic sheeting everywhere and sawdust covered all the surfaces. The faint perfume of pine hung in the air, and disgorged wires spilled out of the far wall like a slithering snake. “I was wondering when you’d emerge.”
At seven months pregnant, her mom now had a large swell of belly that still caused Norah to blink. Of course she was happy for her mom and Greg, but it was…weird. She’d spent sixteen years being an only child, and now there was going to be a little half brother or half sister. And they’d be a lot louder than the power tools.
“I was getting some work done.” She picked her way over the debris toward the fridge.
“They give homework on the first day back?” Her mom, who’d been inspecting a paint color chart, raised an eyebrow, then wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, you meant the auction. This baby brain is killing me. How did it go? Did you get any volunteers?”
“Just Gareth and Piper.” She took out a jar of nuts and shook out a handful. “Hopefully we’ll get a few more by the end of the week.”
No harm in indulging in some wishful thinking.
“I’m sure you will.” Her mom rubbed her stomach, her mouth pressed together in a pensive line, as if uncertain what to say. Then she took a breath. “Norah, I know how important this is to you…but it’s okay to not go through with it. You went over there and helped change lives, and that was remarkable. But raising enough money to build fifty toilets is a lot of work, and this is your junior year. You wouldn’t be judged if you changed your mind.”
I’d judge me.
Her mom’s eyes clouded with worry, and the nut caught in Norah’s throat. Her mom was thirty-six, and at her last checkup her blood pressure was way too high. The doctor had told her she needed to take it easy, which meant no running around.
And no worrying about her daughter.
Familiar guilt caught in her throat. Thanks to the car accident, her mom had already worried way too much about her.
Norah was six when she and her dad had been hit by an oncoming vehicle. But while her dad had walked away with bruising and a few cuts, Norah had a ruptured spleen, as well as breaking four ribs and her pelvis. And while she’d fully healed, her stomach was still marked by the bleak scars. Her hospital stay had increased thanks to an infection, and somewhere between the operations and the physical therapy, her dad had left.
Her mom always said it wasn’t because of her, but that was a lie.
She’d been old enough to hear the arguments. Of how guilty he felt for destroying her chances of a normal life.
She’s maimed, Sarah. And every time I look at her, that’s all I can see.
Because she wasn’t normal now. She was damaged.
She ran a finger along the puckered skin on her stomach, always well hidden under her shirt. And while no one else could see the scars, they were still there. A permanent reminder of what had happened.
“It’s fine, I swear my schoolwork won’t suffer,” she said, managing to finally swallow the nut. Note to self. Stick to jellybeans from now on. Oh, and definitely don’t let her mom know the charity auction was turning into a disaster.
She put the rest of the nuts in the trashcan.
“I know it won’t. I only hope this little one is half as studious as you. And motivated.” Her mom’s eyes instantly began to glitter with tears. Norah knew it was the hormones, but it still made her feel guilty.
“As long as they don’t get my big feet,” she said in a light voice.
“You got them from the best.” Her mom, who was built on the same tall lines as Norah, seemed to recover herself, and gave her a watery smile. “And, by the way, you’ve got the house to yourself tonight. We have our first prenatal class over at the hospital. Unless you want to come along.”
The back of Norah’s knees tingled, and she quickly shook her head. She’d spent too much time in hospitals. Going back wasn’t her idea of a good time.
“I’ll stay here.”
“Thought it was a long shot,” her mom admitted. “The good news is, no cooking on that thing.” She nodded at the makeshift camping stove they’d been using. “Greg’s picking up takeout.”
“Speak of the devil.” Greg walked into the room balancing a large paper bag in one hand and a bunch of pale pink peonies in the other.
“You shouldn’t have.” Her mom’s face brightened into a radiant glow. Norah didn’t blame her. Greg was everything her own dad hadn’t been. Solid, reliable. Not running away when things got too hard. After her dad had left, he’d sent a handful of letters but had died of a heart attack when she was eight, without ever visiting. Her mom had met Greg two years later, and they’d been a family ever since.
“I beg to differ,” her stepfather said, kissing her mom. Then he turned to Norah. “So, did she talk you into coming with us?”
“Not so much.” Norah shook her head as the kitchen filled with the waft of garlic, ginger, and peppers. Her taste buds took over, and she carefully walked over to the dining room table. The clean plates were packed away in a plastic crate, so she retrieved three.
“Could be fun. You’ll get to learn the joys of childbirth.” Greg opened the steaming containers.
“I’ll let you two lovebirds find out about the joy of childbirth on your own,” Norah said.
“Thirty-five-hour labor. I know a thing or two about it already,” her mom reminded her.
“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“Nope. Unless this little person wants to try and break the record.” Her mom spooned out some rice onto her plate.
“For your sake, I’ll gladly hold onto my crown,” Norah teased.
The rest of the meal was spent synchronizing their calendars for the week. Half an hour later, her mom and Greg climbed into the car and headed for the class, leaving Norah free to do whatever she wanted.
Then again, the main reason they trusted her was because usually what she wanted was to do her homework, tidy her room, and hang out in Piper’s den, gaming. In other words, no wild parties or secret meet ups.
One day I need to get a life.
She had just finished drying the dishes and packed them carefully back into the storage crate when the doorbell rang. She straightened. Weird. It couldn’t be Piper since she had a gaming marathon and would be on radio silence all night, and it wasn’t like her mom and Greg got random visitors.
She walked to the door and peered out of the side window. The sun was still slowly slipping from the sky, turning the world into a haze of blazing purples and pinks. She pressed her nose a bit closer to the window and tilted her neck. On the doorstep was a tall guy with all-too-familiar blond hair. It was no longer spiked up thanks to soda but fell across his brow. He was wearing a crumpled blue T-shirt that exactly matched his eyes, and his mouth was set in a thoughtful line.
Zac Mackenzie.
For the second time in one day?
“Hello? Norah, is that you?” he said, his face peering in through the glass. She jumped and her breath frosted up the windowpane. Great. And now he’d caught her spying on him. Then again, was she really spying if he was the one on her doorstep?
Oh, and she should probably open the door. Her fingers tightened around the handle and she slowly turned it.
“Um, hi.” She pulled it open to face him. So much for her carefully rehearsed witty banter.
“Hey.” A playful smile tugged at his mouth. Now he wasn’t covered in soda, the faint scent of soap clung to him. In his hands was a neatly folded T-shirt. “I have this.”
“Right.” She swallowed, her mind trying to run scenarios of what his presence meant. But like the missing banter, she was coming up blank. “You could have given it to me at school.”
“I was in the area,” he said as his foot tapped against the doormat. It didn’t surprise her. He’d sat behind her in eighth grade science, and his constant fidgeting had played like a soundtrack. “I washed and dried it.”
This time she blinked. “You do laundry?”
“My mom was so worried about raising a sloth of a son that she had me washing and ironing by the time I was ten. Turns out Via’s the slob,” he said, then gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t tell her I said that though.”
“Okay.” Norah wasn’t sure what to make of his appearance. Was she meant to ask him in? No. Not only was the kitchen a bombsite, but she hardly knew him. She stretched out her hand for the T-shirt. “Thanks for bringing it back.”
“Thanks for saving me from an afternoon of nudity,” he said and then clamped down on his lips. He shifted his weight, still not handing the shirt back to her. “Actually, that’s not why I’m here.”
“You want to keep it?” Her brows pressed together.
“No. I mean, I’m not here about the T-shirt. There’s something else I wanted to ask you.”
“There is?” she said, trying to concentrate. It was hard. His eyes were a thousand shades of blue with tiny flecks of gold dust in them. The faint bruise had a tinge of pale yellow in it, and his cheekbones were chiseled like a marble statue. Then he did his lopsided smile and the dimple appeared. Butterflies pounded against her ribcage.
“I was hoping you’d be my fake girlfriend for three weeks.”
Wait. What? The butterflies disappeared and were replaced by a hit of adrenaline.
Was she hallucinating?
“I’m sorry. I thought you said—”
“Fake girlfriend?” he prompted, eyes gleaming. “Yeah, I did.”
“Right.” Norah took a deep breath, but the clean scent of soap caught in her throat. Everyone needed to stay calm. And by everyone, she meant herself. “I’m not sure what I should say.”
“Yes would be good.” He gave her an encouraging smile. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, not quite able to turn away. He seemed to pick up on it. “Okay, you’re someone who needs more information. I get that. So, here’s the thing. I might have told Myles Anderson we were dating.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it again. Nope. She still didn’t have a clue what was going on. Myles was on the soccer team with Zac. He was handsome in a prickly kind of way, but she’d always thought his black hair and flashing obsidian eyes seemed a little intense.
As to why Zac would even be talking about her to Myles, let alone say they were dating? It made no sense. He was studying her gravely. Obviously waiting for her to speak.
“But you don’t date,” she said lamely. It was the best she could do.
“Correction, I don’t real date. But fake dating on the other hand…” He trailed off and then sighed. “Sorry. I’ll stop joking now. Remember how Kennedy threw soda at me today?”
“Yes,” she said, then let out a soft gasp. “The long story?”
“There was a party just after school broke up. Myles and Kennedy had this giant fight a few weeks earlier, and…” His gaze dropped to the ground. Lead hit her belly.
“And you hooked up with her?”
“No.” He tugged his hands through his thick blond hair. His biceps strained against his sleeves. Indecision flickered on his face. “If I tell you something, will you keep it to yourself?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“K
ennedy was drunk…and she tried to kiss me. Nothing happened, and the next day she was pretty embarrassed and asked if we could forget the whole thing. It wasn’t like anyone had seen it, so I said yes. Then over the summer they got back together. But it turns out someone had seen us. She panicked and told Myles I was the one who instigated it. He was…mad.”
“The bruise on your eye?” Norah straightened, her fingers tightening around the door handle. “You had a fight?”
“Something like that.” A shadow crossed his face. “Coach found out and benched us both. He’s got this thing about respecting your teammates. We have three weeks to sort it out or we miss tryouts. If that happens, we’re both done for the season.”
She drew in a sharp breath. An entire season? He’d been playing soccer for as long as she’d known him, always up on the stage receiving awards for it.
“Zac, I’m sorry.”
He rubbed his chin and sighed. “Myles is a good guy. He’s got some trust issues. His last girlfriend cheated on him. Not with me,” he added quickly. “But trying to convince him I’m not interested in Kennedy has been like trying to get a smile out of Principal Watson. Which is why I said I was dating someone else.”
“I still don’t follow what it’s got to do with me?”
He held up the T-shirt. “I was wearing this. Plus half the school saw us talking together. It kind of slipped out. And he believed me. For the first time since it happened, he looked me in the eye. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d really appreciate it.”
Her head began to spin.
She was Norah Richmond. Gorgeous boys did not turn up on her doorstep asking her to be their girlfriend. Real or otherwise.
And even if they did, she would still say no.
Her hand drifted to her shirt and the scars hidden below. Even if Zac did date, it wouldn’t be someone like her. Someone who…wasn’t perfect. Even without her scars, her hair never flicked and her freckles refused to be hidden away.
