Life in the Lucky Zone (The Zone #2)

by Patricia B Tighe

  “Great.” He sighed and settled back like he was ready to read for hours.

  His lips were closer, true. But he didn’t appear to be smoldering anymore. Hmm.

  My mother’s footsteps rang out against the marble flooring of the front hall. I quickly looked down at my biology book. Studying, we’re only studying. She stopped in the doorway. “I’m going—” She covered her mouth with her hand, then cleared her throat.

  Was she hiding a smile? What was that about?

  “—going out in the back to check on the gardener’s progress. Do y’all need anything?” she asked, her voice lifting a bit too high.

  “Nah, we’re good,” I said.

  “No, thanks, Mrs. Taylor.”

  “Very good.” She left, the tap of her quick, light steps changing tone when they reached the tile in the back hallway. The door closed with a distinct thud.

  This was my chance. No sudden interruptions. Just Berger and I in a quiet house. I looked over to find him watching me, his expression relaxed.

  “I shouldn’t have answered for you,” I said. “Do you really not want anything else to eat or drink?” His ice tea glass sat empty on the table.

  “No, thanks. I really am fine.” He reopened his book.

  I was starting to hate poetry. Something I’d never even thought about before. But whatever. Poetry would not stop me now. “I want to kiss you,” I blurted out.

  He turned toward me so gradually it was like super slow-mo. “Why?”

  Why? Trust Berger to make this even more awkward than it already was. Heat prickled across my chest and up my neck. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t meet his gaze. I’d probably just ruined our friendship, and if not, this was going to be teasing fodder for months. “Okay, um, I need to … ” I twisted to escape the couch, but Berger clamped a hand on my knee.

  “I mean,” he said, “is it a science experiment?” He indicated my biology textbook that was about to fall on the floor.

  I closed the book and set it on the coffee table, my hand trembling. But I didn’t think he noticed. Why was I so nervous? I usually felt in complete control in these situations, but not this time. Maybe because I never knew what he would say or do next.

  When I finally got the nerve to look at him, my heart did a backflip. His brown eyes were warm with humor. And something else.

  “Huh. No answer,” he said. “That must mean it’s an experiment. Or maybe it’s for research purposes. You want to practice kissing another actor so that it looks real, but actually isn’t.”

  The book of poetry had been set on the floor. Now that was a confidence booster. I smiled. “No. Guess again.”

  He looked at the ceiling. “Um, you’re really a secret agent who mistakenly thinks I’ve hidden the key to the safe deposit box in my mouth.”

  I grinned and shook my head.

  He leaned a little closer. “You want to practice your feminine wiles on the most available idiot around.”

  “I want to say yes to that one, but no.”

  He pursed his lips. “Oh, I see how it is. No, wait. I don’t. Why do you want to kiss me?”

  He’d inched even closer, and I couldn’t resist running my fingers along the stem of his glasses and then around the curve of his ear. “Because of everything you just said, Dragon Boy. Because you’re you.”

  “Ah. Well in that case … ”

  I watched his lips, ready to feel them on mine, my nerves pinging all over my body, but they didn’t come any closer.

  “You have my permission,” he said.

  “What?”

  Mischief glimmered in his eyes. “You may kiss me.”

  I suddenly wanted to smash him into the sofa cushions like the night I’d thrown myself at him. Because he needed to be tickled or wrestled or tortured in some merciless way. But I didn’t want to slow down our current progress. “On one condition.”

  He reared back. “What? You can’t put conditions on your own request. That makes no sense.”

  That last word came out muffled against my mouth, because I grabbed his neck and yanked his lips against mine in what can only be described as a smooch. Hard, fast, and uncomfortable.

  He broke off, laughing. “That was horrible.”

  I grinned. “I know.”

  “I think we can do better.”

  “I hope we can,” I said, putting a challenge in my words.

  “Let’s see.” He slid a hand into my hair, then moved toward me. My eyes fluttered closed. His lips brushed lightly against mine, then moved onto my cheek. “What was your condition?” he whispered.

  Huh? It took me a second to figure out what he meant. “Oh. I’ll kiss you if you kiss me back.”

  He tsked. “You’re so demanding.”

  I gently tugged his glasses off. “I know.”

  Then we truly kissed. Deeply. Rightly. My hands tightened on his shoulders. My toes curled inside my socks. My heart did another backflip.

  Kissing Berger, and being kissed by him, turned my world upside down. It wasn’t just the way he kissed as though he’d be happy to do it all day. It was because after one of his long, slow kisses, where he nuzzled down my neck and back up again, he lifted his head and looked at me with an expression that stole my breath. At first I couldn’t place it, but then it sank in. It was tenderness. I couldn’t remember a guy, any guy, ever looking at me like that.

  Tears stung my eyes so I squeezed them shut. No one wanted to kiss a crying girl. But somehow Berger knew. He pressed his lips to mine again, then whispered, “That bad, huh? If we keep practicing, I’ll get better at it.”

  “You don’t need any practice,” I whispered.

  He pulled back a little. “Oh. So is it time to stop?”

  I gave him a wobbly smile. “No. And I’m okay. You’re just … really surprising.”

  He propped his head up with his hand and, with a gentle smile on his face, ran a fingertip across my lips. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I threaded my fingers into his soft, messy hair, and a sigh escaped my lips. Right. That was a little embarrassing.

  Berger grinned. “I’d be happy to surprise you in more ways, but I need to go.”

  I tugged on a lock of his hair. “You could’ve waited a long time before saying that.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Hey, you could’ve begged me to kiss you a lot sooner.”

  I laughed and then pushed at his shoulders. “Get off me.”

  The gleam in his eyes should’ve warned me. He swooped in for another kiss, this one so hot that when he finally broke it off, he looked a little dazed. I probably did too.

  My mother’s footsteps rang out on the tile. Uh-oh. I hadn’t heard the back door close. Good thing we’d stopped kissing. Berger grabbed his book from the floor.

  “I’m back,” my mom called out, but didn’t come into the living room.

  “Hand me my glasses, you wild animal,” he said, holding out a hand.

  I laughed and scrounged around on the carpet until I found them. Then, ignoring his hand, I carefully slid them onto his face while he smirked at me. I smoothed his hair back over his ears. Only fair since I’d been the one to mess it up. Well, more than it was usually messed up.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You’ve got that, I wonder where my styling gel is? look on your face.”

  “There is no such look.”

  “Well, yeah, it’s not universal, but you definitely have it.”

  I gave my head a tiny shake. “Whatever. I don’t want to style your hair. I like it just the way it is.”

  He gave me another fiery look. “Oh, really?”

  I shivered. “Yes, and don’t look at me like that.”

  He grinned. “Why not?”

  “Because it makes me want to grant your every wish.”

  He laughed. “Excellent. You’re going to regret telling me that.”

  “I hope so,” I whispered.

  Berger moved my legs as
ide and got up. “I must beg, O adorable one, that you take me home. Ashley will have picked up Nana by now at her senior day care place and needs to run an errand for my parents after she drops her off. So I have to be there.”

  I sighed. “Well, when you ask like that, how can I refuse?”

  Fifty-One

  Berger

  I had trouble making conversation in the car all the way to my house. There always had to be the awkward moments after kissing for the first time, and we were smack in the middle of them. I’d look at Lindsey when she glanced out the side window. I could sense her gaze on me when I looked away. It was stupid, but, whatever. My main problem was in trying to tamp down the happiness running through me. And that was a huge fail. It was like when you ran after a ball when you were a little kid, and just before you could snatch it up, you accidentally kicked it again, and on it rolled. I’d never catch it.

  Probably because I really didn’t want to. I couldn’t believe Lindsey had come around so quickly. If I thought hard about it, I knew it was probably too soon for her to start a new relationship. So I took care of that problem. I decided not to think about it.

  She pulled the car into the driveway in front of my house and put the car in park. Time to face the awkwardness head-on. She stared out the windshield. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her voice had that fake cheeriness she sometimes used when she was unsure of herself.

  I touched her arm. “Hey, I’m over here.”

  She quickly clutched the pink rabbit’s foot that hung from her rearview mirror and then let it go. “I know that.” Her forehead wrinkled.

  “Listen,” I said, “I have something to tell you, but I need to ask you a question first.”

  Her expression eased, as if thankful that I might be taking charge of the conversation.

  I felt like a complete idiot, but I needed to be absolutely sure we were on the same page. I cleared my throat. “So, back at your house. That wasn’t just a one-time thing, was it? I mean, it’s totally okay if that’s the way you want it—”

  She kissed me. Briefly. Too briefly. “Of course it wasn’t a one-time thing. I’ve been worried you were already regretting it. You’ve barely said two words all the way over here.”

  I huffed out a laugh. “It’s because I’m so crazy happy. I’m afraid I’m gonna freak you out.”

  She smiled. “Why would that freak me out?”

  “I don’t know. People tell me I’m too intense sometimes.”

  “A smart guy I know once told me not to worry about other people.” She wove her fingers between mine, and I couldn’t resist bringing her hand up to my lips.

  “That tickles,” she whispered.

  Good to know. I smiled against her skin, then lowered our hands. “I have another question. How do we act at school tomorrow?”

  She actually laughed. “I have only one rule: no smashing me up against the lockers to kiss me.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  “But other than that, anything goes.”

  I smiled. “Anything?”

  She leaned in close. “Dragon Boy?”

  “Yeah, Drama Queen?”

  “Get out of the car.”

  I couldn’t help it. I took her face in my hands and kissed her. I could get seriously used to this. A too-familiar car horn honked, and we looked up. My sister’s car, and presumably my sister, waited in the street behind us. “I’d better go.”

  She straightened my glasses. “Tomorrow,” she whispered.

  I got out and waited while she left and my sister pulled into the driveway. I opened the passenger door. “Hey, Nana, did you have a good time?”

  Nana grinned up at me. “More or less. Margaret Carrington cheats at cards. I’ve been telling people for years, but no one believes me.”

  I helped her out of the car. “I’ll see that she’s brought up on charges.”

  She chuckled. “Oh, don’t go that far. She’d never forgive me.”

  Once in the house, Nana headed off to her room. Ashley chewed on the inside of her cheek.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I saw that.” She pointed to the front yard. “Out there.”

  “Don’t you have errands to run?”

  She let out an exasperated noise. “What are you doing with that girl, Trey? I’ve heard about her. She goes through guys like candy.”

  “Don’t listen to gossip. You don’t know her.”

  “Maybe not. But are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Why does everybody keep saying that?” I headed for my room, but she followed me.

  “Who else said it?”

  I sank onto the couch and tore off my shoes. “Gray.”

  “You should listen to him.”

  “Ashley, stop. This is none of your business.”

  She leaned over, resting her hands on the arm of the sofa. “I’m worried about you.”

  “I’ll be fine. Now go away.”

  “Trey?” Nana’s voice sounded far off.

  Oh, no. Ashley and I stared at each other in horror for a split second, then raced from the room. The front door was wide open. Outside, Nana was crossing the lawn, heading for the sidewalk. “Nana!” I called.

  She swung around too fast, wobbled, and almost went down, but Ashley and I raced over and managed to catch her by the arms to steady her. “Where are you going, Nana?” Ashley asked, breathing loudly.

  “I was looking for Trey. I need to check on my flowers in the backyard, but the door is locked.”

  “Well,” I said, “I’m right here. Let’s go flower checking.”

  Nana looked bemused. “Flower checking. That’s cute.”

  Ashley and I helped her up the steps—how she made it down them so fast without wiping out, I don’t know—and into the house. I headed for the back of the house with Nana, purposely ignoring Ash.

  But she had the last word anyway. “Think about it, Trey. And don’t forget the chain when you come back inside.”

  ***

  Lindsey winked at me from the other side of the stage, and I grinned back. At center stage, Parker must have seen her, because he swung toward me and shook his head like here we go again. Which was pretty irritating. I didn’t want to think about that whole “again” thing where Lindsey was concerned. I wished Ash had never seen us yesterday. Her words had me worried that Lindsey was going to dump me any minute. Something I never felt when Lindsey and I were together. But still. All I had to do was keep her happy, right?

  “Trey?”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. Mrs. Mac had appeared out of nowhere beside me in the wings. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Could you go grab a couple more pencils from my desk, please?” She patted her hair as if one might magically emerge from behind her ear.

  “Sure, be right back.”

  I headed backstage toward Mrs. Mac’s office. On her desk, she had a cup reserved exclusively for her yellow number-two pencils. I snagged three and left. I was crossing the storage area when a muffled noise came from behind the long costume rack. I paused and went to investigate. At the very back corner of the room, someone leaned face first against the wall. Well, not exactly face first. Hands covered the face making the sniffling sound.

  I squinted. “Hello?”

  The person turned and swore. Marta.

  I couldn’t really see her face because of the shadows back there, but the sniffling had to mean tears, so I backtracked to Mrs. Mac’s office, grabbed a handful of tissues, and returned. “Hey,” I said, approaching her like she might bite.

  Marta turned her head away.

  “Here,” I said, holding out the tissues. She didn’t move, so I pressed them into her hand. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” I said, “but I promise it’ll be okay.”

  She glanced at me, then wiped her face. “How do you know that?” she mumbled.

  I shrugged, even though she wasn’t looking. “It always is. Eventually.”

  A long moment passed before she spoke. “Thanks, Tre
y.”

  “Sure.” And since I didn’t know what else to do, I left her.

  On stage, Mrs. Mac was organizing people for the car scene. I handed her the pencils, and she took them without looking, as if she’d known pencils were going to blink into existence and hover in the air beside her. She looked around and frowned. “Has anyone seen Marta?”

  Several people said no. “I did,” I said quietly. “She’s backstage. She’ll probably be here in a couple of minutes.”

  The teacher eyed me like she was looking for hidden meaning in my words. “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll wait. But stick around in case I need you to go get her.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Nothing like another day navigating the drama of the drama club.

  Fifty-Two

  Lindsey

  The next week was probably the best I’d ever had, and it was all because of two words: Trey Berger. School was more fun, rehearsal was more fun, studying was more fun. I couldn’t remember laughing so much in my entire life.

  And while our group of friends knew something was different between us, Berger didn’t throw our relationship in everybody’s faces. My Dragon Boy had mastered the art of the secret kiss or touch. We’d be talking to Claire and Gray, and as soon as they were distracted, Berger would rub my back or play with my hair or trail a finger down my arm, giving me shivers. The most fun was when people’s backs were turned—he would kiss me or give me one of those looks he did so well.

  It was all so completely different from Adam, who had only seemed to want to kiss me when we were sure to have the biggest audience possible. Not that I wanted to hide my relationship with Berger, but the secrecy made it feel more special somehow.

  Claire had made a big deal of letting me know that it was only a matter of time before Gray found out about the Linger thing. But I didn’t care. Let them laugh. What we had together was way more than just being shipped by people.

  The ball finally dropped that Thursday afternoon after school. Berger and I were driving to the one-act play competition at Caldwell High School when his phone buzzed. “That’s a weird text,” he said, holding up the phone in my direction.