Flirting with the Bad Boy

by Michelle Pennington

  “You what?” Maddie’s shriek was painful enough to make me wince.

  “You know my rule. No dating during high school.”

  Maddie stood up and shook me by the shoulders. Which was hilarious since she was so much shorter and smaller than I was. But I wasn’t in the mood to laugh.

  “What is wrong with you?” she asked. “Do you have any idea how many girls would give their fake eyelashes to get a date with Jason Hunt?”

  Stepping away from her, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Of course I do. Look, I had reasons. Good ones. Mostly I didn’t want to get my heart broken. He’s the kind of guy you don’t come back from, you know?”

  Charlotte nodded. I could see in her eyes that she was thinking about Lucas, what losing him would be like. “Then what do you need us for? Did you change your mind?”

  I shrugged and collapsed onto a lounger. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. But the problem is that I hurt him. I said that it wasn’t worth it. He took it as me saying he wasn’t worth it—which couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s the only guy who might be. But he probably hates my guts now.”

  Maddie narrowed her eyes. “So you do want him?”

  My brain was such a muddle. “How do I explain? I just need us to be okay again.” I lowered my voice, amazed I was even admitting the next part. “And if he were to like me again, that would be…incredible. Even though I have no idea what I would do if he did.”

  “You’ve got to talk to him and fix this,” Charlotte said. “Can you call him?”

  “I don’t have his number.”

  Maddie shook her head. “What a newb.”

  I ignored her. “And I hardly ever see him at school. Pretty much just after practice.”

  “That’s too long to wait. Okay, let’s figure out how to get you two together this weekend.”

  My stomach knotted at the thought, but I knew she was right. And I didn’t think I’d be able to relax until we were cool again.

  It took over an hour while we laid out in the sun before we even figured out where Jason lived. Maddie finally found a guy who knew. His address was all the way on the far western side of town, where the town faded into the country. But that still didn’t mean I had a plan.

  “It won’t hurt you to drive out there and see if he’s home,” Charlotte told me, gathering up her stuff to go. She had plans with Lucas.

  I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes, trying to remember I wasn’t a chicken. “Are you sure? Cuz I think it might.”

  “Just do it already,” Maddie said, waiting at the gate for Charlotte. “You never know unless you take a chance.”

  “Fine.”

  Charlotte gave me a hug. “Let us know how it goes.”

  It was almost five o’clock by the time I finally got into my car to head across town and try to find him. The sun was at that horrible place in the sky where it blinded me all the way there even with my visor down and dark sunglasses on. And unlike the newer part of town that was laid out on an organized grid, this part was made up of random streets shooting off in crazy directions. Thank goodness my GPS was able to make better sense of it than I was.

  When I pulled up in front of the address Maddie had given me, I saw that it was an old farmhouse-type building on a shaded lot with fields on either side of it. The grass was short, having been mown, but the whole place had a sort of run-down look about it. The vinyl siding showed some staining and had patches of green that looked like mildew; there were odd things scattered around the yard: a tire, a broken lawn chair, a barrel.

  As I got out of my car, I focused on the front door, preparing myself to go and knock on it. I wasn’t good at this kind of thing. The only thing that kept me going was sheer determination that Jason would at least know I hadn’t meant what he’d thought. But I’d only gone a few steps when I heard footsteps crunching on the gravel drive. Looking to my left, I saw a girl coming towards me. She looked vaguely familiar and about my age. Her long brown hair was braided and pulled over her shoulder, and her makeup was a work of art with dark eyeshadow and thick, winged eyeliner. Clearly the girl had watched a few contouring videos in her time. With a crop top showing off her slim waist and cutoff denim shorts that made volleyball spandex look like grandma pants, she was clearly trying to attract attention.

  “Looking for someone?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Is Jason here?”

  The girl looked at me for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to answer. Finally, she shrugged and pointed to where the gravel driveway curved around to the back of the house. “He’s in the back, working on his truck. Like always.”

  Her voice had a hint of annoyance in it that I caught but had no reference for. “So I can just go back there?”

  The girl lifted an eyebrow. “If you don’t think you’ll get lost.”

  I clenched my teeth. I was starting to not like this girl. But that wasn’t why I was here. “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  I headed down the driveway, gritting my teeth the whole time because I could feel the girl watching me the whole way. It was a relief to walk around the corner of the house and be hidden from her view, whoever she was.

  I saw Jason’s truck immediately. The hood was open, and Jason was leaning down into it, hard at work on something. An old radio set nearby blasted out a country song I didn’t know—not surprising since I didn’t know many country songs. Rock was more my thing. I guess the music must have blocked out the sound of my approach because he didn’t look up even when I leaned over him. “Hey,” I said, raising my voice more than usual.

  Jason jerked upright, hitting his head on the hood of the car, and immediately bent over again. “Man.”

  “Sorry,” I said, wincing. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  He took his ball cap off and rubbed the back of his head. “You didn’t scare me. You just surprised me.”

  I tried to smile, but it didn’t really work. “Okay, sorry for surprising you. What are you working on?”

  “Just changing the air filter and topping off some fluids.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Cole always took care of my car, making sure I took it in for regular servicing, and that was that.

  He shook his head. “Wait. What are you doing?”

  Time for the hard part. I took a deep breath. “I came to apologize. I feel terrible about our misunderstanding last night and wanted to clear things up.”

  “Not sure what there was to misunderstand,” Jason said, reaching for a wrench with his grease-streaked hand and turning back to his work.

  Determined to get him to listen to me, I stepped over his rusty green toolbox and leaned over next to him. All the wires and tubes and intricate metal parts distracted me for a minute. Did he know what all these were and what they did? From the way he was working, I guessed he did.

  Was his jaw tight and flexed because of what he was doing, or because he was annoyed I was there?

  “Jason, look—when I said it wasn’t worth it to date you, it had nothing to do with you. I’m just scared of getting hurt and losing everything I’ve worked for.”

  He didn’t react at all for a long time as he finished what he was doing. Then he straightened and turned to toss the wrench back into the tool box. It landed with a sharp clang as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the truck. When he spoke, his voice was dry and sharp. “So it had nothing to do with the fact that I’m a broke punk? Or that my mom is a drunk who abandoned me to live with this year’s loser boyfriend? Or that I’m destined to spend my life just like this—with grease on my hands and no chance of making anything of myself?”

  His bitterness scorched me with every word. I stared at him—at the vein pulsing on his forehead and the lost boy look in his eyes. I wanted to hold him, smooth the tension at the corners of his eyes, and somehow reach him in the shadows into which he’d retreated. I don’t know what I had expected him to say, but I found myself in a flood of deep waters with no i
dea how to swim.

  Gently, afraid he might push me away, I settled my hands on top of his crossed arms and met his eyes. “I didn’t know or think any of those things. And even now that you’ve said them, they don’t make any difference to me. I was scared because you were the first guy who ever asked me to break my rules and the first one to ever tempt me to think about doing it. Why else do you think I’m here?”

  He looked down at my hands. Following the direction of his eyes, I saw the contrast of my clean skin and manicured nails against his work-hardened, grimy forearms. A thrill shot through me at how feminine I felt around him. I even felt dainty—something I’d never experienced before. But even while I savored that awareness, I felt every single beat of my heart while I waited for him to respond.

  “Amber?”

  I looked up.

  He sighed. “You know I want to kiss you right now, right?”

  My eyes widened. “You do?”

  Rolling his eyes, he asked, “How are you so smart but so blind?” He let out a long, deep breath. “Okay, so I overreacted.”

  “And made false assumptions,” I added.

  He raised an eyebrow but didn’t disagree with me. “So now what?”

  “Do we have to figure that out today? Can we get to know each other? Because there is obviously a lot we need to talk about.”

  Before he could answer, footsteps crunched on the gravel nearby. It was the girl I’d met in the driveway.

  “So, what, are you two, like, a thang?”

  I dropped my hands from Jason’s arms, hating that she’d invaded our privacy.

  But Jason just gave me a twisted smile. “Like a thing, but not a thing, apparently.” Then just for my ears, he murmured, “For now.”

  “Aren’t you one of the volleyball players?” she asked, now only a few feet away. Her voice was not what I’d call friendly. I looked to Jason, trying to figure out who she was and how to handle her.

  He nodded at her. “This is Brielle. We’ve been friends since we were little.”

  “Oh?” I asked, wondering if they’d ever been anything more. Because I was getting a lot of “hands off” vibes from Brielle.

  “This is my grandparents’ house,” Jason said. “I’ve spent a lot of time here growing up, and Brielle lives next door.”

  There was a lot about this that made me curious, especially that he was living with his grandparents. But Brielle was making me more than uncomfortable. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

  But as I turned away, his hand shot out and caught mine. “You got plans the rest of the day?”

  “Not really. Why?”

  “We’ve got some friends coming over tonight to go to the beach, mostly guys from my team. We’re going to build a fire and burn a few hot dogs. Want to come?”

  “I don’t think we have any more room,” Brielle said, her brows pinched together.

  Jason smiled at me. “There’s room in my truck. I can squeeze her in.”

  I bit my lip, not sure about this. But with his hand still holding mine and his eyes fixed on me, I found myself saying, “Sure. Why not?”

  6

  I went home so I could put a swimsuit on and leave my car at the house. Jason had to finish whatever he was doing on his truck anyway, and then he’d pick me up.

  But five minutes after driving away, I was nervous about the whole thing. I’d just been so relieved that Jason had forgiven me and anxious to prove to him that I didn’t care at all about his family issues that I’d said yes without thinking.

  Okay, it also had a lot to do with the fact that Brielle didn’t want me to go. And with the way I felt when Jason looked at me the way he did and said he wanted to kiss me. Wow. That had made my heart feel like a handful of sparklers all lit up at once.

  But hanging around all his friends I didn’t know? In my swimsuit? Well, there was no way I was wearing the bikini I’d worn earlier.

  And what if there was drinking? I did not want to be a part of that. My mom and Cole wouldn’t be super thrilled about what I was doing anyway, even if there was nothing but Mt. Dew and Red Bull getting passed around.

  But even while all these doubts swirled through my thoughts, I kept moving forward. When I got home, I changed into a green one-piece that tied behind my neck and had laced-up cutouts on my sides. I put my clothes back on over it and grabbed a sweatshirt in case it got chilly later. It was already late September, and while it felt warm, the weather could change at any time. But when I looked in the mirror and saw my usual ponytail and lack of makeup, I groaned. Next to Brielle, I definitely didn’t look very feminine.

  Rolling my eyes at myself, I twisted my ponytail into a bun and put on some waterproof mascara. I dabbed on some plum-colored lip gloss and slid the tube into my pocket for later. When the doorbell rang, I grabbed a big beach towel and my sunglasses and ran downstairs.

  When I opened the door, my heart thumped hard at the sight of Jason standing there. He looked at ease with his hands in his pockets and his ratty ball cap shading his face, but something about the tension in his shoulders communicated something else entirely.

  “Hey.”

  He nodded, but his eyes were focused behind me, looking into my house. “You asked last night why I always call you rich girl.” He lifted his chin as if to say, Well, there you go.

  “Yeah, but it’s my stepdad’s house. You’ve got the wrong idea about me.”

  “It’s okay. I won’t let it scare me off again.”

  I stared at him, wishing I could let him see inside me—see the glimmers and cobwebs from my childhood. Then he would know that for most of my life I’d been as poor, or poorer, than he was. Then a flash of an idea hit me. I dropped my towel on the entry table and grabbed his hand. “Come inside for a second.”

  He didn’t exactly resist, but his steps were definitely hesitant as he followed me inside. I shut the door behind him in case he tried to escape. Without giving him a chance to argue, I led him through the house and up the stairs into my bedroom. He came to a dead halt ten feet into my room, muttering something under his breath as he looked around. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what.

  “Your room is as big as my grandparents’ house.”

  “I know. It’s ridiculous, right?”

  “Sure your parents are okay with me being up here?”

  I shrugged. “They’re gone for the evening. Besides, we’re just friends, right?” I winked at him and turned toward my closet.

  “Oh, yeah. So they obviously have nothing to worry about, do they?”

  Digging for a certain box, I didn’t bother to answer. He was just being his usual sarcastic self anyway.

  When I finally found the old, Wal-Mart-brand shoebox, it was up on a top shelf that I couldn’t reach without pulling the chair over from my desk. “Jason, can you come help me?”

  “Sure. I know some good games to play in the closet. Not that this is like any closet I’ve ever been in.”

  I watched him inspect my closet—a six by ten room lined with shelves and clothing racks stuffed full of dresses. The row of sneakers at one end was my pride and joy, but I wondered what he’d think about all the frilly stuff my mom put in here. “Shut up. Can you reach that box for me?”

  He moved up behind me and reached up over my head. “This one?” he asked, grasping the box.

  “Yes.” My voice sounded breathy. I hadn’t realized what effect it would have on me to be so close to him in my room.

  He pulled it down, careful not to dislodge the other things stacked around it. “I bet it’s not often that you can’t reach things for yourself.”

  “Nope. How tall are you anyway?”

  “Six-four. And every bit of two hundred and ten pounds.”

  My eyes widened. “Whoa.” I reached out and squeezed his upper arm, not at all surprised to feel the muscle there.

  He reached out then and did the same to my arm. “Whoa.”

  I pulled my hand away. “Now you’re just teasing
me.”

  He grinned, his hand lingering on my arm. “Not at all. You spend some time in the weight room, don’t you.”

  “You don’t get nicknamed “The Hammer” by having wimpy arms.”

  The closet had become a much more intimate space than I was prepared for. I turned and squeezed past him, ignoring the way my hip brushed against him, hoping he didn’t notice too much. I headed for my bed but stopped, thinking better of it. Instead I sat down on the fluffy blue carpet next to my bed and patted the space next to me. He looked down at me with a lifted eyebrow and then lowered himself next to me. When he was settled, leaning on one arm, I took a deep breath and lifted the lid off the box.

  “This is all the stuff I brought with me from my old life—before my mom married Cole, the rich city lawyer.” I lifted out the tangled and slightly rusty slinky. “This was my only Christmas present one year. And I was glad to get one. The ladies from church got me some presents too, but they were mostly clothes.”

  “How old were you when your mom married your stepdad?”

  “Ten,” I said, remembering how awkward I’d felt then. I’d just hit a growth spurt, and suddenly, my clothes were too small. The worst had been feeling like my legs didn’t fit my body anymore. Not wanting to think about all the years I’d struggled with my self-esteem during puberty, I reached back into my box. The little ballet slippers with frayed ribbons took up more room than anything else. “My mom and I found these at a thrift store. I must have been about five. She said when she could make more money, she’d put me in ballet lessons, but she never did. I used to tie them on anyway and pretend.”

  While I ran my fingers over the pink, silky shoes, Jason reached into the box and pulled out a sparkly, purple key on a stretchy cord. “Are you planning to go back someday?”

  I laughed, but it caught in my throat. “No. It just felt like the last piece I had left of my home. I was so proud of it. Mom worked a double shift most nights, so I took care of myself after school. Every day she would set out a microwave dinner for me on the counter, but I would heat it up as soon as I got home because I was always so hungry; lunch was so early in the day. Then I’d do my homework and read until she got home.”