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Daring Hearts: Fearless Fourteen Boxed Set

Page 68

by Box Set


  “Don’t over-bully the bullies.” He focused his heavily-lined eyes on mine. “Don’t push anybody over the edge.”

  I reached for his cheek and pinched it. “We’ll turn you back into a human yet, Hearsty Wursty.”

  The glare he gave me would have terrified a normal person. “You’re going to ruin my reputation if you keep baby-talking and touching my face,” he grumbled.

  “Naw,” I said. “I told a couple of Liz’s friends that you put up with me because I’m O-positive and it’s the only blood type that allows you to sustain life.”

  “You better be kidding.”

  I was. I should have though. Why hadn’t I told anybody that? They would totally believe me. I’d have to add that to my to-do list.

  “Are you even O-positive?” he asked.

  “Why? Do you need to feed?”

  He raised a brow. “You are so hilarious.”

  I smirked and picked up my sandwich. “I’m A positive actually.”

  “So am I,” he said. “Maybe drinking your blood isn’t such a bad idea.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Don’t let my brother hear you say that. He’ll probably start checking my neck for teeth marks.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. He probably already does.”

  Chapter 5

  I usually rode in with Hearst and then had Liz and Felicity drop me at home after school. I had a car, and yeah, I should have driven myself. But Hearst came with coffee. And I didn’t have to wake all the way up until I got to school. That gave me another forty-five minutes of half-asleep zombie existence which I’d lose if I had to be alert enough to operate a motor vehicle.

  Today I wasn’t sure I would have a ride home. I should have asked Hearst at lunch. I hadn’t seen him at all since, and I wasn’t sure if he was checking on our anti-bullying initiative or swapping spit with the cheerleader.

  Unfortunately, my last class of the day was Spanish. My Spanish teacher worked hard to teach us and keep us engaged. Normally a good thing. Today not so much. There was no way I could manage to text anyone before class ended. Hearst would probably run straight for his car after school.

  Neither Liz nor Felicity had texted me before this class. I didn’t think it was a good sign.

  “Y tu, Townsey?” my Spanish teacher asked.

  Uh oh. “Sí?” I said. I had no idea what I was saying yes to. I had lost track.

  “Sí o no?”

  Thank God the woman liked me. “No,” I answered with confidence.

  She smiled as if I had answered correctly all along.

  “Muy bien.”

  I gave her a grateful smile.

  * * *

  I had just resigned myself to opening closet doors all over the building and searching for Hearst when I saw Felicity and Liz waiting for me outside the classroom. Oh thank God, the four-hour freeze out was over.

  Trying to look chagrined instead of ecstatic, because really, she had to have forgiven me, I walked over to my friends.

  “I guess I embarrassed you pretty bad,” Felicity said. “But you embarrassed me too. Everybody heard you yelling at me.”

  I decided that now was not the time to argue with her about how many people could have actually heard me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too,” she said. “Now tell me the truth. Do you like Noah?”

  I wrinkled my forehead. “I thought I said in my note that I didn’t.”

  “Yeah,” Liz interjected. “You said it four times.”

  “So we aren’t convinced.”

  “Four times?” I asked. “Really?”

  “Thou doth protest too much,” Felicity said.

  “Methinks,” Liz added.

  “Now you’re quoting Shakespeare?” I shook my head. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “You aren’t going to avoid our question,” Liz warned.

  I knew that. I knew the tenacity of their combined forces. Did I like Noah? I hadn’t thought so.

  “Just don’t bring it up in front of Hearst, okay? It’s weird when you guys do that.”

  “Why is it weird?” Felicity asked.

  “He left with some blonde girl anyway,” Liz said. “I saw them right before you came out of class.”

  I frowned at the tinge of irritation. Maybe Noah wasn’t the one I liked at all.

  * * *

  “Sounds like you had a wild weekend,” Lori said when I walked into the office.

  “Not so much me as Graham,” I said.

  “Still, you could have called me. You know that right? You can call if you need me.”

  “I know,” I lied.

  “I’d hug you, but I’m afraid I’d start leaking milk. I’m trying to shut down the dairy operation.” She motioned to her chest. “The triplets are over a year old now, and things are far more manageable at home. So if you need me, I can be here.”

  “Okay,” I said. But now I couldn’t stop staring at her breasts as if one might spring a leak any second.

  The woman was pretty, with a little extra weight, pretty eyes and dark brown hair in a chin length bob. Her normally neat hair sometimes gave way to the chaos at her house, and on those days, she allowed the natural curl to take over. Today was a curly, scrunched and run kind of day.

  I glanced back to her chest to assure myself that all was well and noticed that she’d misbuttoned her blouse. Things couldn’t be easy with triplets. I didn’t know why she was trying so hard to convince me otherwise.

  The phone rang, and she rushed back to her desk to answer it. As she did, I spotted a piece of cereal clinging to the back of her head.

  She answered the phone and sat down at the desk. I casually walked around behind her and reached for the toasted oat.

  She was looking up Graham’s schedule on the computer, and I took a chance. I reached for the piece of cereal and gave it a tug.

  It didn’t budge. I didn’t know if it was glued in with hairspray or applesauce, but the substance was holding.

  Lori reached back and smoothed her hair.

  I could either tell her or leave the cereal where it was.

  My brother came out of his office. He shot me a questioning look.

  I stepped away from Lori.

  “Hey, Townsey. Can you come in here for a sec? I want to show you what I found.”

  “Sure,” I said, abandoning Lori to the pitfalls of motherhood. “What is it?”

  I followed him into his office and waited while he tapped a few keys on the laptop.

  “This,” he said.

  The last thing I expected to see when he turned the laptop around was a young woman demonstrating how to put on makeup.

  “Watch,” he said, his own eyes never leaving the screen. “She puts on the foundation first and then the concealer. And she uses some kind of primer too. Did you know that they made makeup primer?”

  I blinked at my brother. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Her name is Nikkie and she’s from the Netherlands.”

  As the woman continued to talk about contouring and named product after product, I glanced at Graham. I had expected him to call me in to talk about some big break in a case. Instead, he wanted me to watch a makeup video in his office with him?

  “I’ve watched her do the foundation, and she suggests that you let it soak in and then use powder to help it stay on longer.”

  My brother had lost his flipping mind.

  “You should watch her, Townsey. She’s amazing.”

  “Are you contemplating a career change? Or can you not get the rest of the marker off?”

  Graham tore his eyes away from the video to look at me. “What? What are you talking about? I can’t get the marker off. I tried at lunch. Then I had to put all this junk back on my face to meet with a client.”

  “If you want to be a makeup artist, I will fully support your choice,” I said.

  “Why would I—” He shook his head. “Let me show you one other video. I think it might be helpful. Plus, it’s about back to school
makeup, and you said you aren’t very good with it, so I thought you might want to get some tips.”

  I was about to tell my brother where he could shove his makeup tutorial when the woman finished and I saw the results of all the contouring and highlighting. “That’s unbelievable,” I said in awe.

  “I know, right? She’s amazingly talented.”

  I sank down into a chair. “Play it again,” I said.

  Graham looked at his watch. “Sorry, Townsey, but I have a meeting in ten minutes. Would you mind to watch it and try to figure out what this primer stuff is? I think I’m going to need to cover the marker for at least a few more days.”

  “Yeah,” I said, continuing to study the woman’s face. I started to pick up his laptop.

  “I need it,” he said. “You’ll have to use yours. You can google her.”

  “How does she do that?” I asked. She was a pretty girl, but she had transformed herself into a glamorous cover girl. “Seriously. How?”

  “Watch her videos,” he said. “I have to prep for the meeting.”

  * * *

  I ran upstairs to the loft, dialed Felicity, and sat at the kitchen island to watch the video again.

  “Of course, I’ve seen her work,” my friend said. “I’m one of her million subscribers.”

  “Why have you not told me about this woman?”

  “Ummm. Because you aren’t into makeup.”

  She did have a point.

  “Have you watched all of these?” I asked.

  “Not all of them. I’ve watched some.”

  “Can you do what she does?”

  “Some of it,” Felicity said. “Like the eye stuff. I can do the tricks to make me look more awake. You know like when we stay up too late talking, and when we get to school, you and Liz always look tired but I don’t.”

  Yeah. I did know. I had assumed it was because her dark skin conveniently hid the circles that stood out under my own eyes on those days. “I didn’t know it was makeup,” I admitted.

  “I can show you sometime.” She laughed. “I can’t believe your brother is so into this. He’s only going to be wearing it for a couple more days.”

  “Yeah,” I said. He was only going to need it for a couple more days. I was starting to wonder if he was only going to wear it for that long or if he’d keep going. Maybe Hearst should give him some guyliner tips.

  “This is so great!” she squealed. “Now Graham and I have something to talk about.”

  I wanted to deny it, but I had this uncomfortable picture in my head of me coming home to find Felicity and Graham gushing over the coverage from a new eyeliner. “Great,” I said.

  * * *

  I was in bed when I got the angry text from Liz. “I CAN’T believe you didn’t tell me about the makeup videos. How could you!”

  It occurred to me as I gazed at her text that most people didn’t have lives like mine.

  I texted back, “I’m sorry. Didn’t realize you cared.”

  Her reply came quickly. “OF COURSE I CARE. NOW F&G HAVE SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT AND I’LL BE LEFT OUT. THANKS FOR NOTHING.”

  Had I been this crazy when I freaked out and yelled at Felicity earlier? Yeah, maybe.

  “Sorry,” I texted. “Going to bed. Now you know. Love you.”

  I silenced my phone and set it on my nightstand. All of this because of a frat boy with a Sharpie. If I had it to do over, I’d have tased every last one of them. Twice.

  * * *

  “Quit looking at me,” Hearst snapped as he drove us to school the next morning. “You’re creeping me out.”

  “Sorry.” I had been staring. It was those stupid makeup videos. Now I couldn’t stop looking at his guyliner. “Are you using the Kat Von D tattoo liner?”

  Hearst glanced over at me in surprise and the car swerved suddenly. “Oh, crap,” he said and got the car back under control.

  “I don’t know what’s stranger,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road, “that you asked me about makeup or that you correctly identified the product.”

  “I knew it!” I said with immense satisfaction.

  “How did you know it? Yesterday you didn’t know it.”

  “I watched some makeup videos last night.”

  “I’m assuming there was a reason. Like a case or something.”

  “No. Actually, Graham asked me to watch. Although he’d already watched it himself.”

  “Graham?” Hearst asked. “He’s interested in eyeliner?”

  “No, don’t be silly. He’s interested in foundation, and primer, and powder, and the contouring and highlighting process.” I snorted.

  “Oh,” he said, “to cover the marker.”

  “Allegedly, yes. He says his interest stems from his current need to cover the writing on his face.” I thought back to my brother’s intense concentration as he watched Nikkie’s video. “I’m not so sure though.”

  “Why did you ask about my eyeliner?”

  I shrugged. “Nikkie mentioned it, and I thought maybe it was what you used.”

  “It’s the best thing for getting a really solid black line,” he said.

  “Both the men in my life now wear more makeup than I do,” I said.

  “You’re probably the only girl in the Western Hemisphere who can say that.”

  “I kind of hope so. I would worry about any other girl who had to deal with this.”

  “Kelly Osbourne,” he said. “Her father wears way more makeup than either of us.”

  “If you rule out actors and musicians,” I said.

  “If it makes you happy, I can get the guyliner tattooed on,” he offered.

  “No! Don’t do that!”

  He grinned. “Why not?”

  “You may not always want to look like a rock star,” I said.

  With a laugh, he turned into the school parking lot. “I can’t wait to see if Graham finds an excuse to keep wearing makeup.”

  I could wait. I could so seriously wait.

  * * *

  I didn’t see the email until lunch. I had set up the email at my fake identity so it would automatically forward to my regular email.

  Graham had hired me to work on a case. Well, not me really, but still… me.

  First though, we had another case to work on.

  * * *

  Hearst and I stood behind a bush, trying to look inconspicuous as Tamia walked up to Alex. We had helped her back in the spring with a problem. I couldn’t help but smile at her new sense of confidence. She was tall and gangly, and the confidence couldn’t take away all the awkward, but she was happy, and that was the point of what Hearst and I did.

  “Are you Alex?” she asked suddenly, startling him.

  He looked up at her from his spot on the grass where he’d been drinking his second carton of milk. “Yes.”

  “I’m Tamia, and I’m supposed to… I mean… Hi, so you seem like you’re an okay person. So I wanted to see if you would come to the Boys and Girls Club after school for our hip hop class.”

  Alex struggled to get to his feet. “Hip Hop class? Like dance?”

  “Yeah. It’s way cooler than you think. The kid who teaches it most of the time is in eighth grade… but he’s good. And we don’t judge. We don’t bully. They even let me stand in the back for a couple months so I wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

  The kid blushed. “You dance, um, hip hop?”

  “Yes,” she said, putting her hand on her hip. “And I’m wicked good. Just don’t go getting a crush on me or anything. I mean we can be friends, but I’m not some kind of sex object.”

  Alex gaped at her.

  “So are you going to come?”

  “Um,” he said. “I guess.”

  “Good,” she said. “See you there.” She turned and walked away from him.

  “She’s come a long way,” I said to Hearst.

  “I’m a little bit afraid of her,” he said.

  “Do you think he’ll come to class?” I asked.

  He took my han
d and dragged me away from the bush. “He’ll come. I guarantee it.”

  * * *

  I had worked with my schedule to make time to work with Alex one-on-one if he needed it. I wasn’t sure how well he’d do with the dancing, and I didn’t want to overburden Oliver. It wasn’t going to be easy now that I was doing work for my brother. I needed to get that background check done quickly too so he’d want to use me again.

  When I walked into the Boys and Girls Club, I was ten minutes late. I glanced around for Alex. He didn’t seem to be hanging near the dancers or on the bleachers. My heart sank at the idea that he hadn’t come.

  That’s when I saw him. He was dancing next to Tamia, and perhaps more surprising than my brother loving makeup, the kid had moves. Serious moves.

  He was heavy, but he somehow used his weight to good effect. His body seemed to hang for a moment as he changed direction, like an exclamation point on the end of a sentence. With the dance Oliver had chosen, the boy was working it.

  I didn’t call attention to him. Instead, I joined the class and let Oliver do his thing.

  After class, Tamia came up to me, grinning. “He used to dance with his mother all the time but now she has to work two jobs. He was great, wasn’t he?”

  “He was. And you were too. Thanks for doing that today.”

  “No problem,” she said. “Alex wanted to show me a few moves. I’ll see you later.”

  She rushed off to catch up with Alex. Maybe she shouldn’t have issued him that stern warning about falling in love with her.

  I couldn’t wait to tell Hearst.

  Instead of calling him, I drove over to his house and punched in the security code at the gate.

  I drove up to the house and saw that he hadn’t bothered to park the Mercedes in the garage. I hadn’t expected to see another car though. The image of my friend getting anywhere near the sunshine yellow convertible with the false eyelash stickers on the headlights made me laugh out loud.

  The laughter died in my throat when the front door opened and Hearst and a girl stepped out. She looked vaguely familiar. Though I didn’t have much time to see her face before he laid a kiss on her that would have had audiences sighing if it had been on the big screen.

 

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