“Really, I’m not. I’m not even sure we’re friends anymore. He didn’t even write to me once when I was in Houston.”
“Come on, Cassie. You know Cody. It would’ve been more shocking if he had written you. The man barely talks. He’d probably send a piece of paper with the word ‘Hey’ on it.” I plopped the shadow back into my bag and started putting on the first of five layers of mascara. “Besides, I have a feeling he’ll find you.”
“Really?” Her face brightened.
“Yeah. At Tricia’s party he—”
The first bell rang, followed by the loud twang of Willie Nelson’s voice filtering through the speakers.
“Why are they playing country music on the loud speaker?” Cassie asked.
“Last year some moron decided that it’d be a good idea to play music in between classes so that we’d know how long we had to get to class.”
“Ooh, that’s a good idea.”
“It would be if they didn’t only play—ugh, gag me—country music.”
She chuckled. “I’m surprised you haven’t slipped into the office and switched all the CDs with Rick Astley.”
“I did. I got Saturday suspension too. It wasn’t pretty either. Mom totally flipped out. Have you ever seen her mad. Spanish flies out of her mouth a thousand words a minute. I could barely understand a word she was saying, she was so pissed.” I slid red lipstick on my lips, and then blotted with a tissue. “Hey, you better hurry up if you’re going to the main office first.”
“Okay. See you at lunch in the courtyard.”
“Yeah,” I said, slipping a green blouse over my head. “If I survive Mr. Boney’s AP calculus class.”
* * *
There should be some kind of Olympic competition for running in heels because if there was, I’d totally win the gold. Seriously, with my books and purse, I was probably carrying at least fifteen pounds. My necklaces bounced against my chest and my bracelets clinked as I dashed down the hall. Mr. Boney, who I liked to call Mr. Bonehead, was a major a-hole. Word in the school was that he was some brilliant math god or something from Columbia University, who couldn’t keep a steady job because of his drinking problem. Apparently, he was some distant cousin of the principal, and that’s how he’d gotten his job at Koppe High.
Willie Nelson stopped crooning just as I reached the door.
“Ms. Ruiz, I see that we are fashionably late.” Mr. Bonehead eyed my outfit as I panted, leaning against the door. “Will we be making this a habit as you did last year?”
I could feel at least a dozen pairs of eyes on me. I was used to their staring. Everyone knew everyone at this school. They were either all related or they’d grown up together since birth.
Mr. Bonehead’s beady gray eyes watched me carefully. He was trying to take me down a notch. He tried to do the same thing last year, telling me that he didn’t think I had what it took to pass his class. That just pissed me off, and gave me all the determination I needed to earn an “A.”
“No, Mr. Bonehe—uh, Mr. Boney.”
His face turned red at the flurry of giggles from the front row.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Well, see to it that you don’t, Ms. Ruiz. You may have been able to squeak by last year, but this is AP calculus.” He then turned to the class. “I’ll be teaching the course on the same level as a college freshman course. I anticipate at least half of you will dropout before the end of the week. Ms. Ruiz,” he turned back to me, “if you’ll please take your seat. We have the same seating arrangement as last year.”
Ugh! What a dick! I gritted my teeth at the insinuation that I wouldn’t last a week in his class.
“Whatever,” I mumbled under my breath as I walked to the back row, my heels clicking against the floor.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Most of the teachers at this school thought the same way. They took one look at me and, for some reason, thought that I couldn’t handle honors courses. And when they got my first test back, they were even more surprised. One teacher even thought I was cheating. She didn’t accuse me outright. She just kept passing by my desk whenever I took a test. Mr. Bonehead was the only teacher who was cocky enough to say things like that to my face.
I glanced at the back row, expecting to see Tricia, who had sat behind me last year. Sitting in her seat was Nic Marcelli. He smiled widely, those gorgeous hazel eyes lighting up as I approached him.
I froze, glancing at the empty desk in front of him.
No way! There was no way I was going to sit in front of Nic Marcelli for an entire semester.
“You’re in the wrong seat. Tricia’s supposed to sit there,” I said, glancing over at Tricia, who was sitting in the desk across from him, her nose conveniently buried in a textbook.
He grinned. “There’s been a slight change in seating arrangements.”
“Oh really? Well, we’ll see about that when Mr. Boney does roll call.” I slid into the chair, sitting forward, careful not to touch the back of the seat. Although the same students had been in this class last year, Mr. Boney was a stickler for the rules and called out roll every morning, even though he could tell who was absent with a quick glance.
“I guess we will.” I jumped when his warm breath hit the back of my neck, sending a delicious shiver through me.
He chuckled. “What’s wrong? Do I make you nervous?”
I clutched my textbook, ready to whack him on the head with it if he didn’t back off. The moment I’d first laid my eyes on him at Tricia’s party, I knew he was trouble. Those gorgeous, hypnotic eyes and that sexy smile had thrown me off guard, but only for a moment. One look at the designer clothes he was wearing followed by his bragging about being quarterback and I knew that he was one of “those” guys. You know, the kind of guy who was used to getting his way because he was good looking and had loads of cash. The kind of guy who, once he’d gotten the girl, he’d throw her away like trash and move on to the next. If Mr. Miami Vice thought I was going to be another notch on his belt, he thought wrong. I knew the games these rich dudes played. He could just stop it with the dreamy eyes and sexy voice. I was totally not buying what he was selling.
“Puhleeze.” I rolled my eyes, twisting around to confront him. “You can’t be—”
His flawless face was an inch from mine. Damn! My breath caught in my throat as I stared at way too sexy lips. They were moving. Shouldn’t sounds be coming out?
Oh my God. I’ve gone deaf. I can’t hear anything.
“Uh, did you say something?”
“You never finished explaining what the Rick Astley song was about. Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me about it?” He leaned in closer, and I caught a faint scent of his cologne. I inhaled. He smelled soooo good.
Somehow, I was able to keep my focus and not fall for it. But man, he was making it hard.
“No, thank you.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not interested.”
His handsome face fell, and for a moment, just one brief moment, I felt a tug in my heart. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.
I was about to change my mind when he flashed his sexy grin and said, “I think you are.”
Ugh! He’s so cocky.
“Ms. Ruiz!”
Crap!
I spun around at the sound of Mr. Bonehead’s voice calling out my name.
“Here!” I was so mad I could spit thumbtacks all over Nic’s cute ass. It was bad enough that Mr. Bonehead had it out for me. Now my stupid hormones were going to kill my chances of getting a full ride to college.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Ruiz?”
“Yeah. The new guy is sitting in Tricia’s seat. Right, Tricia?” She peeped up, her green eyes wide behind her glasses.
“Uh.” She looked from me to Nic and then back down to her textbook, mumbling, “I don’t know anything about this.”
I balked. Tricia traded seats with Nic! I scowled at Nic’s annoyingly sexy, but smug expression. She totally sold me out. I gave h
er my best evil eye, hoping she could feel it, even though she wasn’t looking.
“Nic Marcelli.” Mr. Boney beamed. “May I say it’s a great pleasure having you in my class. Your father was the Vice President of Student Affairs when I was at Columbia. Texas University is very lucky to have him.”
“Thank you, Mr. Boney,” Nic said.
“Ms. Ruiz, you should consider yourself lucky. Perhaps having someone like Mr. Marcelli near you will keep you focused. Now, class, take out a blank sheet of paper; we’re going to have a quiz. Let’s see what knowledge you managed to retain over the summer.”
My jaw dropped as I watched Mr. Bonehead pass out the quiz. He was brown-nosing Nic. When he placed the quiz on Nic’s desk, he patted his shoulder and said, “Just do your best for today. I’m sure you’ll catch up if you need to.”
I looked from Nic back to Mr. Bonehead. Mr. Bonehead was never this nice to any of the students. Then again, none of the students came from rich, powerful families like Nic’s.
I glanced down at the quiz and smiled at the familiar questions I could answer in my sleep. Screw him. I didn’t need powerful parents or money to make my way in the world. I had a brain that was going to get me a college education. And no one, especially Nic Marcelli, was going to get in the way of that.
SIX: Nic
“Oh my God. The grocery store is actually called Piggly Wiggly. Who does that?” Bianca gawked at the sign as we stood outside the entrance. She shook her head in disbelief.
I laughed as we walked through the entrance. “Now that’s what I call a name.”
“You would think that, Nic. Everything about this town is backward. And it smells funny.”
“It’s the manure.”
“Eww.” She wrinkled her nose.
“It isn’t that bad. I hardly notice it now. All I can smell is your perfume. Really, Bianca, how much of that stuff did you put on?”
“It’s better than smelling cow doo-doo.” She bounced over to a stack of red grocery baskets, her ponytail and red and white ribbons swinging as she moved. There was something about wearing a cheerleader uniform that made her all bouncy like that. “You can’t possibly tell me that you like it here.”
“It’s not that bad. The people here are pretty nice. You just need to—”
My breath caught when I saw Mandi standing at the cash register holding a toddler with chubby cheeks on her hip. Behind the register was a pretty girl with long chestnut hair. The brunette smiled as if she knew me. I didn’t remember seeing her in any of my classes. Then I glanced at Mandi’s reddening face. They had been talking about me. I could feel it.
“Here’s the list¸ Bianca. You get started. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Aww, come on, Nic. I don’t want to get everything myself. I’m telling Mom.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. I have business to take care of.” I headed toward Mandi, chuckling as her jaw dropped when she saw me. Mandi was a tough nut to crack. She was obviously interested. I just couldn’t understand why she kept turning me down. All week I’d been offering to take her places that I knew chicks liked to go. I even offered to take her to the drive-in to see a re-showing of The Princess Bride. All chicks liked that kind of stuff. Or so I thought. For a moment there, I had thought she was going to say “yes,” but she just started muttering something in Spanish under her breath and sped off to her next class.
I paused, bewildered, when Mandi started running up and down the aisle calling for someone named Miguelito.
It was at that moment when an elderly woman with a small bag of groceries closed in on me. She looked like the lady in the Wendy’s commercial looking for the beef in her hamburger. The lady paused, peering over her glasses, looking me up and down.
Whoa! Beef Lady was checking me out.
“Oh, yes. He’s a stud muffin,” she muttered.
“Uh, excuse me?” She couldn’t have said what I thought she’d said. Did she?
“Don’t worry, dear. She likes you. Don’t give up.”
“Okay?” This was so confusing. For someone who was adamant about not going out with me, Mandi sure didn’t hide her feelings well. It seemed like the entire town knew she was into me.
There was a loud crash and Mandi’s friend sped off toward the sound. I followed her, worried that Mandi might have gotten hurt.
When we turned the corner, passing a display of pickled pig’s feet, I froze at the sight of a little boy with big brown eyes. Black dots from what looked like a marker lined his face and arms. He stood in the center of the pile of boxes scattered around him, munching on cereal.
“Miguelito, put that box down! I’m so sorry, Cassie,” Mandi placed the little girl on the floor and snatched the box away from the boy. She started piling the boxes in her arms. “I’ll clean this up.”
“Here, let me help you. Babysitting?” I reached out to take the cereal boxes from her hands. The moment I touched her, she jumped back, her dark eyes wide. Hearting pounding, I stared into her breathtaking face. My eyes drifted down to full, red stained lips. We were so close I wanted to throw the boxes down and kiss her right there and then in the middle of the Piggly Wiggly. I couldn’t understand why she had such an effect on me.
“They’re my brother and sister.” As if a spell had been broken, she tore her eyes away from me and busied herself picking up the cereal boxes.
“Hi, Miguelito,” I said to the little boy. “And who is this cutie?” I tapped the girl’s chubby cheek.
“Selina,” she mumbled. “And that’s Cassie.”
Cassie wore a huge grin, her brown eyes dancing between Mandi and me.
“Nice to meet you, Nic. I’ve heard a lot about you from Mandi.”
Mandi’s head popped up. I choked back a laugh as I watched them both have what looked like a silent argument. Mandi’s dark eyes narrowed, basically telling her friend to knock it off. And Cassie’s doe-like eyes gazed back innocently, as if wondering what she’d said that had made Mandi so upset.
“Oh, really? So what did Mandi say?” I stacked the boxes as we spoke.
“She says you’re from New York.”
“Yeah, my father got a job at Texas University.”
“Oh, what does he do?”
Shit! I wasn’t sure how to answer that. Most people would be impressed that my father was the president of the university. But I had a feeling that this would be a turn off for Mandi, especially since my line about being the quarterback hadn’t worked. I couldn’t lie about my father either. It was just a matter of time before she found out about him if she didn’t already know. “He’s the president.”
There was a moment of awkward silence. I was afraid to see the expression on Mandi’s face.
“That’s cool. So, why don’t y’all live in College Station?”
I froze, wondering why Cassie was asking so many questions. Had Bianca been gossiping to her new cheerleader friends about why we had to live in Koppe? It wouldn’t be a surprise. She’d been complaining nonstop since we’d moved here. I glanced up at Cassie and let out a breath of relief. All I saw was sincerity in her eyes. “My mom wanted us to live in the country.”
I hated lying to her. She seemed so nice.
“Must be a big change for you.”
I smiled, throwing a glance at Mandi. “I don’t mind. Bianca hates it though.”
“The cheerleader you walked in with? She’s your sister?”
“Yeah, she’s a sophomore. According to her, her life was ruined the moment we stepped foot into Texas. So what else did our friend Mandi tell you about me?” I grinned.
“That you’re the starting quarterback at Friday’s game.”
“Yep, that’s the plan. You two will be there, won’t you?” I glanced at Mandi who was spitting into a napkin and wiping her little brother’s face. He was squirming around, not looking very happy about it. “I could use a cheering section.”
There was a flash of an elbow, and Mandi yelped. She and Cassie did that silent argu
ment thing with their eyes again. I swore someday I was going to have learn the girl code to eye warfare. Finally, Mandi let out a breath and shrugged her shoulders. “Sure. I don’t see why not.”
Yes! I leaped to my feet. “Then it’s a date!”
“No. That’s not what I meant.” Her dark eyes widened. She looked from me to Cassie and then back to me again. “It’s not a date.”
I grinned. She was so cute when she was flustered like that.
“Uh, huh,” I said, walking down the aisle, looking for Bianca. It was better to leave now before she changed her mind. “I’ll see you at our not-a-date.”
SEVEN: Nic
I pushed the food around my plate, barely hearing Bianca’s whining about wanting to move back to New York.
“I’ve told you, Bianca, moving back is not an option right now,” Mother said.
“Fine.” Bianca pouted, poking at her salad. “But don’t be surprised if my prom date ends up being some dude named Bubba.”
“Oh dear Lord.” Mother took a sip of her wine, fanning her face with a napkin. “I’m sure there’s someone suitable for you to date in this town. Perhaps one of Sheriff Baker’s sons? You met them last week. What was his name?”
“Chase.” Father’s voice drifted from behind the Wall Street Journal.
“Yes, Chase. He seemed like a nice enough boy, even if his family doesn’t run in the same social circles as ours.”
I gritted my teeth. Mother was the ultimate New York socialite. All our friends and even our friends’ friends had to be screened by her. It was all about the family pedigree. Funny, that kind of stuff never bothered me before.
Strange. Since moving to Koppe, it was like I was just beginning to notice things that were always there. I mean, I knew Mother always took great care when it came to her appearance. I just thought it was a chick thing. But now watching her, it seemed like she was playing a role that was expected of her. Everything about Mother was soft: her voice; her smooth blond hair pulled back, showing flawless porcelain features; and manicured hands. She sat with her back straight, perfect posture as if a book was on top of her head. Even when it was only the family around the dinner table, she always dressed impeccably.
Secrets & Surrender: Part One Page 4
