Tough Guy: PROVIDENCE PREP HIGH SCHOOL BOOK 2

by Allen, Jacob

  I cocked an eyebrow back and recoiled, snorting in surprise. Did he not know I had gone on a date with Jackie yesterday?

  I supposed not. I hadn’t exactly been open about much regarding that girl.

  “Unless, of course, you’d rather not get laid,” Adam said. “Which, if that’s the case, hey, I can call a convent for you and find someplace you can go—”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up,” I said with a snort. “I got a date, and I’m almost certain she doesn’t have any STDs.”

  “Wait, you?” Ryan said.

  I wasn’t sure if it would be more insulting if he was serious or sarcastic.

  “Yes, me,” I said. “Jackie. We went out yesterday and now we’re going to Sadie Hawkins together. So unless that goes very poorly, she’s going to be my date to this party.”

  I didn’t necessarily expect congratulations and hugs. I didn’t expect them to slap my back and say way to go.

  I definitely, however, did not expect derisive laughter.

  “What the fuck?” I said as the two Collins brothers chortled. At least Nick didn’t have much of a reaction.

  “You’re going with Jackie White?” Ryan said. “You mean the girl that slobbers all over your dick every party that comes here?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually go through with that,” Adam said.

  “Wait, the fuck, you—”

  “I said she liked you and that if you liked her, you should ask her out,” Adam said. “But I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it. There are a bunch of girls more attractive than her.”

  Wrong. So wrong.

  Adam was looking at hotness as a binary thing. Either a girl was hot or not. Either she was a slut or not. Either she gave great head willingly and eagerly, or she was a prude who didn’t deserve any attention.

  Jackie wasn’t even on the scale. Her exotic, mixed-ethnicity look gave her a certain beauty that just didn’t fall into the standard Southern belle archetype. She was sweet, but not in a “bless your heart” way, either; it was more understated in words but more overt in actions.

  I couldn’t fucking help it if my friends were morons when it came to this. I couldn’t do anything about it if they decided they’d rather just be typical high school jocks and look at Jackie through the pussy prism.

  If I was whipped, they were scars I’d want to show off with pride.

  “I thought you, of all people, would be happy,” I said to Adam. “You know what it’s like to realize you were wrong about a girl. You know what it’s like to be wrong—you know, fuck it.”

  I was about to go into a deeper speech about Adam recognizing when there was something wrong with yourself that you had projected onto the girl, but that was a fucking waste of time. Adam was apparently only introspective and polite when he was one on one. Put him in a group of peers, and he turned back into the jackass that I’d had to jump in the hallways.

  “Hey, fuck it, indeed,” Adam said, a smirk on his face. “Fuck it balls deep and let us know how it goes.”

  “Christ almighty,” I said under my breath. “Just fucking be happy for me and let’s plan this party, shall we?”

  “Oh, I am happy for you, don’t mistake my tone,” Adam said, as if it was my fault that I’d completely misread him. “But that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to give you shit for all of this. It’s what we do. We’re bros.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  But I was anything but sure about it. Did they actually think Jackie was a good idea? Or had they just pushed me this far into believing she’d be good for me? Maybe when I had first run up at the winter party and Adam had suggested a grand gesture, it had all been for the sake of trolling me.

  Not that it really mattered. Of all of the boys, I was the most independent and the least attached. If they hated Jackie, it mattered far less to me than it would have, say, to Adam. I didn’t throw hissy fits as Adam had when the topic of Emily was broached before they started dating.

  At this point, though, we’d already had one great first date. We had planned to hang out the following Monday. Sadie Hawkins was four weeks out. That gave me plenty of time to back out if I needed to.

  But at this point, I was almost more determined not to for the sake of putting this back in Adam’s face than anything else. I was needing to assert not just my attraction to Jackie but my independence from the group.

  If something was going to split us apart, it was not going to be the boys. It was going to be something about me.

  But the good news was, there was nothing on the surface at that moment.

  17

  JACKIE

  Four and a Half Years Ago

  I didn’t recognize the boy that approached Emily, Samantha, and me in the cafeteria.

  Considering that I tried to learn everyone’s name, that was something of a huge surprise. I knew we got new students every year, but this was something unexpected. This boy had a nice, soft smile, and really cute hair. He looked incredibly nervous to be with us.

  I didn’t want him to feel that way. I wanted him to feel welcomed.

  “Can we help you?”

  “Uh, um, Emily, is there an Emily Zane?”

  “Yes!” Emily said to my side. “What’s up?”

  “Hi, I’m, uhh, Kevin, there’s a boy, Adam—”

  “Oh, him,” Emily said with an amused smirk. “Don’t worry. Adam does this to a bunch of people. Likes to send them my way because he can’t ask me out to my face. Do you want to eat with us, Kevin?”

  “Yeah, do you?” I said, hopeful.

  He had a really sweet smile.

  But then, just like that, something in his smile seemed to fade. He still smiled, sure, but there was something about the look that almost suggested he didn’t want to be there. Or maybe he didn’t think he deserved to be there.

  “I’m good, I’m, uhh, thank you though,” he said before hurrying off.

  I turned back to my friends, looking at me in confusion.

  “I thought he was kind of cute,” I said.

  “He was kind of fat,” Samantha blurted out.

  “Samantha!” we both said before Emily finished the thought. “If you think he’s cute, Jackie, I think he’s cute. Let’s just hope he’s not another Adam.”

  * * *

  Present Day

  The next month that followed leading up to Sadie Hawkins was good.

  But that wasn’t what I had anticipated when I’d had that first date with Kevin and everything had gone amazingly.

  I kept telling myself that it was my fault for having expectations that were too high. Nothing could match the euphoric high that came from that particular first date. Not every date was going to be the first date.

  Still, Kevin just seemed a little off-kilter after that first date. By all external appearances, things were fine. The Monday after our first date, we went for a nice walk at a nearby park; our groups merged together before school, hanging out around our two sets of lockers. We didn’t make out as much as Adam and Emily did in between classes, but no one came as close as they did.

  He just seemed a little bit protected, guarded almost. I still had not found the space or time to ask him about his father or his socio-economic status, and he didn’t seem to be in a particular rush to tell me anything either. I decided that if we were to become serious after Sadie Hawkins, we’d have to have an honest talk about that, but for now, I didn’t mind playing it low-key since we weren’t officially boyfriend-girlfriend.

  Of course, “didn’t mind” wasn’t really true either.

  The Friday before Sadie Hawkins, I realized that we still had not actually made plans. Given that it was the girl taking the boy out, it only felt natural that I would pick him up from his house. When I asked him for his address, the reaction was about as bad as you could get.

  “You want my home address?” Kevin said incredulously.

  We were standing at his locker, which, in retrospect, was one of my mistakes. I should have asked him
at his car or somewhere more private first; asking him this in public meant he had to save face somehow, and I was coming to regret this decision already.

  “No, absolutely not,” he said. “There is no way that you are coming to my house.”

  “Kevin, come on,” I said, but I immediately regretted the critical tone. “It’s Sadie Hawkins. I just want to pick you up and do this experience right. What did other girls do in years’ past?”

  Kevin shook his head.

  “It’s not happening.”

  “Can you at least tell me what other girls did?”

  Kevin puffed out some air, blowing his floppy hair out from his covered eye. It was, of course, the same as his visible one—he didn’t have a lazy eye—but seeing them together painted a picture of pain and sadness that was that much more visible than before.

  “I didn’t go to this dance before, Jackie, for this very reason,” he said. “You don’t need to see what my home life is like. No one does. Don’t push me any further on it.”

  “Why?”

  I think Kevin recognized that I regretted asking it, because though his neck tensed, his shoulders raised, and his eyes widened, when he saw my own withdrawal action, he strayed from saying anything too harsh.

  “I told you I hate my father,” he said. “I don’t need someone else to hate him.”

  That seemed like a very curious way of phrasing it, but there was nothing more I could say, certainly not in a public setting like this.

  “Well can you at least come to my house,” I said, realizing this meant he’d have to actually meet my parents. “So that I can drive us to the dance?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  The bell rang then, saving us from any further awkward confrontation. He kissed me on the forehead and wished me luck—that wasn’t unusual, as I wasn’t a fan of PDA beyond that—but I couldn’t help but wonder what this was setting up to.

  After all, Adam and Emily had been a thing for a bit before Adam did something so horrible it made Emily withdrawn and sullen for a bit of time. Was Kevin about to do the same to me?

  Or were we, perhaps, about to have a magnificent breakthrough that would require a lot of short-term pain but a lot of long-term reward in the process?

  * * *

  The next evening came, and both my parents were all too excited to meet Kevin Torres.

  I couldn’t have been more mortified at the prospect of it all.

  I was still a little annoyed that I wasn’t going to get the full Sadie Hawkins experience—especially since, like Kevin, I hadn’t attended this dance before, albeit mostly because I was too shy to ask anyone out—but that wasn’t the source of my anxiety. The idea that a Broad Street Boy was going to meet my hippy parents terrified me.

  My parents and the Broad Street Boys could not have been more different. My parents talked about connecting to the soul, feeling one with the world, and meditating and avoiding Earthly vices like alcohol and smoking. The Broad Street Boys talked about smoking joints, getting drunk, and hooking up with women while avoiding straight-laced behaviors like sobriety.

  Granted, the fact that Kevin was dating me probably reduced some of the potential likelihood, but Kevin was dangerously smart and very subtle. It would not have surprised me to hear him break out a line or two at my parents’ expense without them realizing.

  For now, I was just trying on my dress, a tight, black little dress that showed off my curves nicely. It admittedly wasn’t as exotic or unique a look as some of my other outfits, but I wanted to look nice for Kevin tonight. I wasn’t getting dressed for myself; I was getting dressed for him. I wasn’t going to sleep with him, but I wanted him to look at me the way a sexually charged man would. I wanted to feel wanted; I wanted to feel desired.

  I came out from my room to see my mother and father in the process of setting up the room for a meditation setting.

  “What are you doing?” I said.

  “We’re going to invite Kevin into a meditation setting.”

  Oh, no, Mom.

  “Are you sure? We’ll have to get going to the dance, I’m not sure—”

  “It’ll only be for five minutes, dear,” my mother said. “We’ll treat him like he’s never meditated before, as most people have not. It’ll be good for him to learn about your lifestyle. And it may even help him.”

  That was strangely accurate, though my Mom probably just said that about everyone who didn’t meditate. Still, I had visions in my head of Kevin trying to stifle laughs, telling Adam and Nick everything, and then word spreading about the crazy hippy parents who tried to get their daughter’s date to meditate with them. How miserable would that be? I didn’t think even Emily or Samantha would be able to stand up and protect me at that point. They’d probably just mostly feel pity and sorrow, not support, for me at that point.

  “OK, but if he says no—”

  “Of course we will respect that.”

  Well, yes, but the fact that you will ask—

  I heard the sound of a car pulling up, grinding against the pebbles and gravel of our front driveway. That could only mean one thing.

  “He’s here.”

  I did not say the words with excitement or hope. I was actually quite nervous, on the verge of running outside and just grabbing him to head out. But that would just draw suspicion and lead Kevin inside anyways.

  There was no changing anything now, not unless I bribed Kevin to leave early with some sort of erotic promise that I wasn’t willing to make for the sake of my dignity anyways.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said.

  If I had the chance to soften the blow, to make him better prepared for what was to come, then maybe, just maybe, he’d be willing not to say as much to his friends. Maybe I wouldn’t get laughed at on Monday. Maybe I could still hang with my friends without their judgmental stares.

  Maybe.

  Or, maybe, as was most likely the case, this was going to end in awfully embarrassing fashion.

  I got out of the house, the sharp feeling on my feet my only reminder that I hadn’t yet put on my shoes, as Kevin emerged from his Honda Civic. He may have been someone who claimed to come from a poor background, but he wore a very sharp suit that had kind of a throw-back feel. The gray colors seemed more distinct, more 20th century than the usual sharp black colors I saw from the other guys in my class.

  In other words, it was a very Kevin look, and it was a look that I found myself getting more than a little aroused by seeing.

  “Hey, handsome,” I said, a healthy mixture of nervousness and excitement going through me as he smiled at me.

  “Hey you,” he said. He embraced me and tried to kiss me.

  I eventually relented, allowing him a quick kiss, but I didn’t want my parents to see me kissing him. Just the thought of that happening…

  “Let’s get going,” I said. “Party’s not gonna go all night.”

  “Without shoes?” Kevin said with a laugh.

  I looked down at my feet and groaned. I’d have to go back inside.

  “Just wait here, OK?” I said, ignoring Kevin’s confused look as I headed for my room.

  And then Mom appeared in the doorway, waving to Kevin. And… shit.

  “Why, you must be Mr. Kevin Torres,” my mother said. “I have heard much about you. I see that you now, standing here before, possess great spiritual energy.”

  Oh no. The worst has come to pass. My mother couldn’t stay away from Kevin. He’s gonna tease her, tell the rest of the boys, and—

  “Thank you, Mrs. White.”

  Thank you?

  “Jackie has said a lot about you as well, and she’s had nothing but good things to hear.”

  “She has good energy through her. Come, won’t you join us for a brief meditation?”

  My head was spinning for how much was going on and how little I could keep up. One second, I was having to hurry inside to get my shoes to drive Kevin to Sadie Hawkins. The next, my mother was trying—and succeeding—in bringing Kev
in inside? I looked at my date to try and see any hint of amusement and wickedness on his face.

  I saw none.

  “Would you like me to take off my shoes, Mrs. White?”

  Since when is he polite like this?

  “Oh, that’s quite alright,” my mother said. “You are a guest. We do not want to impede on your energy.”

  “OK, I don’t mind—”

  “Aww, hell, Theresa, let him take his shoes off,” my father said, making my face turn an even darker red. Now my father was participating? “Welcome to our home, Kevin. The name is Marco.”

  “Pleasure, Mr. White.”

  “Please, call me Marco,” my father said. “I don’t take well to formalities.”

  Kevin smiled as if he’d just committed a guilty pleasure. My mother giggled. I was doing my best to maintain a smile and not be so embarrassed as to change my skin color to a permanent red.

  “Which one of you fine kids is driving tonight?”

  As soon as I raised my hand, my father did something I never thought he’d do.

  “Want a beer, kiddo?”

  “Dad!”

  “What? It’s not like you’ve never drank.”

  “I’m good, but thank you, err, Marco.”

  This whole scene was too much to take. I had to beg Kevin not to say a word of this, but the more that my mother and father did, the more I felt compelled to actually let him say something. I hated the idea of my father providing beer, but on the other hand, it would get me some amused props from the other kids.

  “Ya sure? I’m not gonna get you drunk. I’d just rather have you enjoy one under my watch than in private.”

  “Really, I’m good, but thank you, sir.”

  “Kids these days, too afraid to let loose,” my father said, though he said so with a wink to both of us. “Come now, let’s meditate then. If you’re not gonna get your tongues loose, let’s get your mind right.”

  For the first time since he walked in, Kevin turned his attention to me. I had to bite my lip to avoid the flush of emotions from pouring out of me—I never would have guessed this would happen in a million years. At most, I figured my mother would say something outside the front door and we’d be on our way.