by H. E. Connor
Bobbie’s lips parted as Lucas leaned closer. One thought entered her mind. She so wanted to be his girlfriend. His definition sounded so ... swoonish. Swoonish? Did she really just think that? She didn’t swoon. She wasn’t that type of girl. She was tempted, though. Just this once.
“So you see, Cinderella, there is a difference between dating and a girlfriend,” he whispered, and lowered his head to hers. Her heart was thumping in her chest, her breath was coming in soft, little pants, his scent curling towards her.
Bobbie’s cell phone’s strident ring tone startled them both, forcing them apart.
“Uh, um...” Bobbie fumbled in the deep pocket of the gown—the only saving grace this gown had, in her mind—and pulled out her phone. A missed call from her mom. Her eyes rounded when she saw the time. “Oh, my god, it’s nearly midnight. My mom—”
She jumped up, all flushed and flustered. “I have to go, I’m so sorry.”
“Wait, tell me your name,” Lucas pleaded.
Bobbie hesitated. This night had been perfect. Did she want to ruin it with reality?
“Just call me Cindy,” she said, and then bolted as her phone rang again. It wasn’t until she was in the car, apologizing to her mom for taking so long, that she realized she’d left her sneaker behind.
Chapter 5
Bobbie tried not to stare at him. Really. Almost a week since the prom, and she’d passed Lucas so many times in the hallway, sat behind him in class, and generally remained invisible. Even now, in the library, he was sitting two tables away, flicking through some old year books, oblivious to her presence. Her one comfort was that he also seemed oblivious to Charmaine’s presence.
She’d spent nearly every waking moment since that night going over their conversation. That night—talking about her brother and his uncle—it had been the closest she’d ever felt to another person. Such a contrast to the blur she’d lived in since her family had received the news about her brother’s death, the quiet anonymity she’d sunk into. Each night, she got to hold the memories of that night close to her chest, and each day she tried not to act like a love-struck idiot mooning over a guy oblivious to her very existence.
Not for his lack of trying, though. She eyed the corner piece of paper that stuck out from her diary. She’d pulled the flyer from the noticeboard, stunned when she’d seen it—and the others.
Do you own this shoe? Or do you know the girl who owns this shoe? Beneath the thick dark script was a photo of her sneaker, and instructions to contact Lucas Jordan with any information.
She wanted her shoe back, but going up to him would mean he’d know who Cindy really was. The enigma would be far better than the reality, surely? Like, what did she expect when he discovered the mysterious Cindy was actually the nobody, Bobbie Turner? That he’d want to do it again some time? That he’d want to hang out?
Who was she kidding? He would never see her as anything more than what she was, the girl who drifted around him, but didn’t have any real substance.
Only, for one brief night, she actually felt like someone had seen her, had listened and really heard her. For the precious time they’d sat whispering in the dark, she’d felt she actually mattered. Ever since her brother died, her mom had spent a lot of time staring vacantly out the living room window, as though she still expected Rory to come bounding up the front path, wearing that uniform, with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Dad was spending more and more time at work, and Bobbie wasn’t sure if that was because it was a distraction, or an escape. Her family were there, but not really there, and that time with Lucas had made her feel, just once, that maybe she wasn’t drifting through life completely alone.
Yet for Lucas, it was probably just another night of hanging out and chatting to some girl.
The buzzer rang, and Bobbie sighed with relief as she closed the text book she wasn’t really reading. She watched as other students started to leave the library, smiling, laughing, eager to go home.
Home.
She’d bet her mom was still sitting in the darkened living room. Rory would groan and pull their mom out of the chair, drag her out into the sunlight, because that was what her brother did. He brought out the sunshine in their family. Bobbie stuffed her books into her bag, and slung her bag over her shoulder as she made her way to her locker. Losing Rory was like losing a spark, losing the light of the Turner family. Her dad said it was just their way of ‘getting through it’, that things would eventually get better. Right.
She winced as someone crashed into her shoulder, half-spinning her around.
“Watch where you’re going, loser,” Charmaine snapped.
Bobbie muttered an apology she didn’t mean and turned to keep walking.
“Hey, don’t walk away when I’m talking to you,” Charmaine said in a voice that had a definite whine.
“I’m not in the mood, Charmaine,” Bobbie said quietly, and turned to go. Today, thoughts of her brother clung to her like a deadweight, and she didn’t have the patience to put up with Charmaine’s particular brand of crap.
“Hey,” Charmaine snapped, grabbing Bobbie’s wrist. “I said—”
Bobbie reacted. She yanked her arm out of Charmaine’s grasp and whirled around to face her, her eyes fierce. “I said I’m not in the mood. Back off.”
Charmaine’s face paled, her jaw slack as Bobbie turned and kept walking. Kids had paused in the hallway now started to whisper and giggle. Bobbie ignored them. She reached her locker and quickly sorted her books, then slammed the door shut, spinning the lock. She slung her bag over her shoulder and was out the door before she finally realized someone was calling her name. She stiffened. She knew that voice.
“Hey, Bobbie Turner, wait up.”
Chapter 6
She turned slowly at the top of the short flight of concrete stairs that led down to the curb as Lucas jogged up to her. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “That was—I’m sorry.”
She frowned. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”
“No, I think I put Charmaine in a bad mood, and she’s taking it out on you.”
Bobbie’s lips curved in a half-smile. “She’s always been a bitch. You can’t take credit for that.” She winced, realizing she was talking to said-bitch’s boyfriend. It was weird. She felt very comfortable with him at the moment, based on that evening, but for him she was just the girl in the back of the classroom who never really said anything. “Sorry. I’m sure she’s very nice on a good day.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Liar.”
He’d said something similar that night at the prom. Bobbie shrugged. “Sorry, just making chit-chat.” She hesitated, waiting for what, she didn’t know, then turned.
“I thought you didn’t do chit-chat,” he said as he fell in beside her. Bobbie paused mid-step.
“What?” Her heart in her throat, she kept her eyes on the yellow school bus that she was just about to miss, yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite make her feet move.
Lucas gestured casually toward the school building behind them. “You hardly ever talk in class. I just thought you didn’t do chit-chat.”
Bobbie’s shoulders sagged. Oh. That was what he meant. She swallowed. “Maybe I’m shy.”
Lucas pressed his lips together, as though trying not to laugh. “I see.”
Her cheeks warm, Bobbie turned toward the head of the stairs. “I’ve got to go.”
“Wait—,” Lucas said, reaching out to gently grasp her arm. “I think I have something that belongs to you.”
Bobbie’s eyes widened as she slowly turned to face him, her heart pounding. “You—you do?” She glanced around frantically. There was no place to run, no place to hide. Oh, my God—
“Yeah. I think you left it back in the library,” Lucas said, and held up a pen. Bobbie blinked a few times, and he offered her the pen.
She swallowed. “Uh, that’s not my pen,” she said, her voice husky. Oh, God. She thought for a moment that—. She took a
deep, calming breath. No. From the friendly, innocent look in his eyes, he had no idea the wringer he was putting her through. He had no idea she was Cindy of the sneakers.
“Are you sure?” Lucas said, his brows dipping. “I thought I saw you with it.” She shook her head, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “Oh. Sorry.”
She smiled weakly as he began to turn away. “No problems.” She turned back toward the stairs, then heard him click his fingers.
“Oh, wait, there was one more thing,” he said. She watched in frustration as the bus pulled away from the curb. Damn it, she’d missed it.
She took a deep breath and turned to him, trying to paste a patient, inquiring look on her face. “What, Lucas?”
He unslung his backpack and unzipped the top, removing a familiar black converse sneaker with a little peace symbol drawn on the once-white rubber toe cap. “I believe this does belong to you,” he said softly, his brown eyes meeting hers.
She gaped, looking at the shoe, then at him. Then at the shoe. Then back at him. Oh, God. He knew.
Chapter 7
She turned and ran down the stairs, but he caught up with her, jumping over the last few steps to land on the sidewalk in front of her. Damn it, he was fast. And tall. Fast, tall. And gorgeous. She halted, the flush that had warmed her cheeks mere minutes ago going almost nuclear.
He. Knew.
He shook his head. “You have a habit of running away from me, you know that?” He nodded at the red sneakers she was wearing today—her second favorite pair. “Do you have any other shoes in your wardrobe other than sneakers?”
“Not really.” She glanced around. Most of the kids had left, although there was still enough of a crowd hanging about. She noticed that people were beginning to notice them—including Charmaine Buxton. The girl stood just outside the main doors with Huey, Dewey and Louie, a sour look on her face as she watched Bobbie and Lucas talk.
“You were messing with me,” she grumbled. She lightly punched him in the shoulder.
He feigned injury for a brief moment, then nodded. “Yep. It was fun, too. Should have seen your face.”
She shot him an exasperated look, then reached for her shoe. “Thank you,” she said, trying to keep her tone prim.
He pulled the sneaker out of reach. “Uh-uh. You’ll get this back when I get some answers.”
She shot him an exasperated glare. “Are you serious? You want to play twenty questions again?”
“Well, we didn’t quite finish the game,” Lucas pointed out. He smiled. “Just a couple of questions.”
Bobbie folded her arms. “Fine.”
“Why didn’t you tell me your name?”
She frowned. “That’s not a yes or no question.”
He shrugged. “New rules.”
She pursed her lips, then glanced around. They were beginning to draw more attention. Attention was something she wasn’t used to.
“I liked being someone different,” she said in a whisper, blinking away the burn of tears. “Just for one night.” It sounded so pathetic. She sniffed, then lifted her chin. “My turn,” she said.
“That’s not how twenty questions works—”
“New rules,” she said tartly. His lips curved, and he nodded.
“Fine. Your turn.”
“How did you figure it out?”
Lucas exhaled, his cheeks puffing out for a moment. “Well, that wasn’t so easy. I thought someone was bound to contact me, after the flyers... but when nobody did, I had to try something else.”
Her eyebrows rose. “And?” He looked so darn pleased with himself.
“Yearbooks, school paper... I must have gone through so many photos...” He smiled broadly. “And then I found this.”
He held up his phone, and she saw the online article in the school paper about the funds disbursement story they ran at the beginning of the year. She frowned.
“I don’t get it,” she said, looking at the screen. “How does that prove anything?”
“Ah, it took me a while to spot it, too.” Lucas shifted, his head dipping closer as he spread his fingers lightly over the screen, enlarging the image.
And there it was. She was in the background, watching the photographer with curiosity as she walked down the front stairs. Lucas had zoomed in on her shoes, and the peace symbol was easily recognizable.
Her brows drew together. “You went through all of the newspapers images, looking for me?”
He nodded as he met her gaze. She tried to smile. “Well, that’s a lot of effort to return a shoe. Thank you,” she said huskily.
“I didn’t do it to return the shoe,” he said quietly, his gaze intent. Then he blinked. “Well, I mean, it’s not like I intended to keep it, because that would be weird, and I really did want to give it back to you...” he cleared his throat. “But I really wanted to find Cindy.”
Bobbie’s heart dropped to her stomach like a stone in pond. “There is no Cindy, Lucas,” she said. “There’s just me. I’m sorry, it must be so disappointing—”
Lucas’s eyes widened. “Why would you think that?”
“Uh, because I’m Bobbie Turner. You know, the girl who mopes around and doesn’t talk much...”
His jaw dropped, then his mouth closed with an audible snap. “God, Bobbie, what kind of guy do you think I am? I notice you. I’ve always noticed you. I’ve tried to talk with you—hell, I even sit near you in every class we have together.”
Bobbie’s eyes widened. She thought she’d picked the seat to be close to him... “Oh.”
“Oh?” Lucas shook his head. “When we talked at prom, I—I couldn’t believe it. I found someone who listened to me, really listened to me. I found this amazing girl who could understand what was going through my head, who didn’t judge me for not wanting to play basketball, and who could still make me laugh...” He touched the lapel of her denim jacket. “Do you know how happy I was when I found out it was you?” he said softly.
She swallowed, then shook her head, still trying to process the ‘I’ve always noticed you’ comment, followed by the ‘amazing girl’ comment, so admittedly she was a little distracted. “Uh, how happy?”
“This happy,” he said, and dipped his head to kiss her. His lips were gentle on hers, soft and warm, and she tingled all the way down to her toes. Lucas eased back a little, a tender smile on his face.
Her heart was thudding. God, could he hear it? He’d just kissed her. Lucas Jordan just kissed her.
He lifted her shoe. “I will give you back your shoe if you will come out with me, but not as Cindy. I want Bobbie Turner to come out with me.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Are you trying to blackmail me with my own stinking sneaker?”
His lips curved. “I prefer to think of it as persuasion. Come on, let’s go to the movies, or bowling, or whatever you want to do.”
It sounded so tempting, so ... fun. Uh-oh, unless she was getting completely the wrong idea, which was possible because Lucas hung out with a lot of people. “You mean, in a group, like a—a friend...?” she asked, her voice catching on the last word. Lucas looked surprised, then shook his head.
“No.”
“Oh. You mean, like a date?”
Lucas shook his head. “No. I mean, like a girlfriend.”
Bobbie’s eyebrows rose. Did he just—? Wow. Be still her swoon. She remembered his definitions for dating and girlfriend. “Oh.” She didn’t know quite what to say. “Even though I pretty much only wear sneakers?” She winced. Wow. That was a spectacular response. Dufus.
Lucas laughed. “Especially because you wear sneakers,” he told her. “What do you say? Come out with me?” He waved the shoe suggestively in front of her. She met his gaze.
“I think I need some persuading,” she told him, a shy smile spreading across her face.
“Oh, I can do that,” he said, leaning down toward her.
She arched an eyebrow as she slid her arms up over his broad shoulders and around his neck. “After that little
pen stunt, I think it’s going to take a lot of persuasion.”
“Oh, I’m game,” he said, and they were still laughing when their lips met.
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About the Author
H. E. Connor lives in Australia, and spends way too much of her time dreaming up stories. She has a dog and a cat, and now a squawky bird. She likes chocolate (a little too much), reading, and the occasional wine (never enough).
Read more at H. E. Connor’s site.
