April Fools' Joke (Holiday High Series Book 3)

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April Fools' Joke (Holiday High Series Book 3) Page 7

by Kellie McAllen


  “Oh, yeah. Man, I’m sorry.” I wince and bite a knuckle. “Should we go somewhere else? I didn’t think.”

  “No, it’s fine. I know what to avoid.” She waves her hand and takes a tortilla chip, blowing it off like it’s no big deal, but I still feel terrible.

  Kerri starts talking about food, and everybody has something to say about that, even KC, who talks more than I’ve ever heard her. She’s smiling and looks happy and carefree for the first time since we met. Her blue eyes sparkle against her sun-kissed cheeks.

  She even laughs when I prank Austin. I lie and tell the waiter that it’s his birthday, and they put a sombrero on his head and make him sit on a chair in the middle of the room while they sing and dance in a circle around him. Austin eats it up like the attention junkie he is.

  When it’s time to go, I drive everybody else home first, even though it’s a little out of the way. I want a few more minutes with KC.

  “Thanks for coming today. I’m glad you were there so I wasn’t the fifth wheel,” I say as soon as we’re alone.

  “Really? I figured you weren’t too thrilled that Kerri invited me. I know I’ve been kind of rude to you.”

  “KC, it was my idea to invite you, not Kerri’s.” Even in the dark, I can see the shock on her face.

  “Why?” she sputters.

  I shrug. “A lot of reasons.” Like, I feel guilty about the hot sauce thing, but I can’t admit to that. And I feel sorry for her because she seems sad and lonely, but saying that might hurt her feelings. And because of the bet, of course, but she’d kill me if she knew about that. I decide to go with the least dangerous answer.

  “Mainly, I wanted you to see I’m not the jerk you think I am. I’m more than just a prankster.”

  Apparently, that answer wasn’t as safe as I thought it was, though, based on the frown on her face.

  “So, in other words, you couldn’t stand it that I didn’t immediately become one of your adoring fans.”

  “No! It’s not like that!” But it kind of is. I’ve never been so instantly disliked before. I clench the steering wheel and my jaw.

  “Look, I just feel like we got off on the wrong foot, and I wanted to smooth things out between us.” I glance at her, trying to decide if I want to admit how I feel. Her frown has softened, and she’s staring at me like she knows there’s more.

  Chapter Eight

  KC

  “You challenge me, KC… and I like that.” Those were his exact words. Words that could have several different meanings. Words that I’ve been thinking about ever since.

  I challenge him — that could mean I see right through his lies and don’t believe him, or it could mean I didn’t instantly like him and that offends him, or maybe it just means I’m defensive and won’t let him in — all of which are true. But he said he likes that I challenge him, and that puts a whole other spin on it.

  I like you, is the possible meaning my brain keeps going back to. But I can’t figure out why. Do I want him to like me?

  Why would I want that? I decided the first day I met him that I didn’t like him, so why should it matter whether or not he likes me? Maybe I’m changing my mind about that, maybe he’s not quite as bad as I thought he was. Maybe he’s just a little starved for attention and trying to get it in all the wrong ways. Maybe he’s actually a pretty good guy once you get past all the pranking.

  But does that mean I want him to like me? Does that mean that I’m starting to like him? I have no idea how I feel about that or what to think of this development.

  I admit, I did have fun with him and his friends this weekend. Everyone was friendly and nice, and no one said a bad word about anyone who wasn’t there, which was strange but encouraging. Hopefully that means they aren’t saying bad things about me when I’m not around.

  Maybe I was too quick to assume that everyone in the world is as cruel and heartless as the people at Astor Lake. Maybe there really are good people out there who won’t stab you in the back at the first chance. Maybe I’ve actually found some of them who want to be my friends. I’m still leery, but I don’t feel the immediate urge to push them away anymore. And if I’m giving them a chance, maybe I can give Jake one, too.

  On Monday, I purposely take the seat next to him in 1st period. He glances up at me with a surprised look that morphs into a smile. It gets even bigger when I smile back. “Hey! How was the rest of your weekend?”

  “It was good.” I don’t want to admit the truth that it was really boring after the excitement of Saturday. “How was yours?” I ask, before he has a chance to ask me what I did.

  “It was okay, nothing special.” He looks a little sad when he says that, and I wonder if things are okay at his house.

  The way he talked on Saturday, it seems like he doesn’t get much attention at home. I guess I can understand why he feels the need to do whatever he can to get attention here, even though I think he goes too far with his pranks sometimes. I debate whether or not I should ask him about it, but my own aversion to sharing any details of my messed up life holds me back.

  “Everything okay?” I finally say, because it’s generic enough to blow off if he wants to but lets him know I’m here to listen if he wants to talk.

  He glances at me in surprise, tilting his head and looking at me for a long moment before responding. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good,” he says, but I can tell by his tone that it’s really not. I guess I’m not the only one who likes to pretend that everything is fine, even when it isn’t.

  Our teacher tells us to pair up for an assignment, and my stomach clenches as soon as she says it, but Jake immediately reaches out and touches my shoulder. “Wanna be partners?”

  I give a shaky sigh and a small grin. I’m sure there are plenty of other people in here he knows and likes better than me, so I’m surprised by his offer. But since I don’t know a single other soul in this room, I’m grateful for it.

  “Each group will pick a topic and research it then do a short presentation at the end of the week. I’ll let our newest student pick first. KC?” Mrs. Beecham puts a list of topics up on the board.

  I immediately know which one I want, but I glance at Jake. “Got a preference?”

  “Not really. Do you?”

  “I want women’s rights and equality,” I say, pinching my lips around a smile. Guys usually hate that kind of stuff.

  Jake smirks at me. “Well, in the interest of women’s rights, I think you should get to choose whichever topic you want, so go right ahead.”

  We spend the next 40 minutes writing down all the ways that women have struggled for equality over the years. Jake gets a little more agitated with each thing I add.

  “Don’t you think this is enough?” he asks when I flip to a new page.

  “Sure, if you don’t mind minimizing the problem like men have been doing for generations.” I scowl at him.

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “We haven’t even touched on how women are objectified. This is a big deal, Jake. It may not seem that way to you since you’re a guy, but girls are sick of being treated like brainless, useless, sex symbols!” My voice gets a little loud, and people turn to look at me, but I ignore them.

  “It sounds like this is personal for you,” Jake says, dropping his voice to a murmur, probably in hopes that I’ll quiet down.

  I slump down and lower my voice. “It is. I’ve lived through it, and people need to see how wrong it is so they’ll quit doing it.”

  Jake gets a pained look on his face that’s half sympathy and half guilt. I guess he recognizes how misogynistic some of his own pranks are. “I’m sorry, KC. You’re right. It is a big deal.”

  His voice lowers to a whisper again. “And I’m sorry for whatever you’ve been through.”

  My scowl softens, and I let out a long breath.

  “Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll switch out his jock itch cream for Icy Hot.” Jake grins, and I can’t help giggling.

  In 3rd period, Jake pu
rposely ignores his usual seat and takes the one right behind me.

  “Are you sure you want to sit there? I am a crazed feminist, after all.” I turn and bug out my eyes at him.

  “I’ll take my chances. I like feisty women.” He smirks and winks, then his face grows serious. “Is that why you started wearing all the goth stuff, so guys wouldn’t be attracted to you?”

  It’s a gross oversimplification of the issue, but it’s easier than the full truth. I shrug my shoulders and drop my head, staring at my baggy, black cargo pants. “Kind of.”

  “Well, you should know it’s not working. I still think you’re hot.”

  I whip my head around and gape at him. I can’t believe he just said that! By the look on his face, he can’t believe it, either, and he’s wondering why the heck he did.

  It was totally crass considering the discussion we just had about respecting women, but yet, I still get a little buzz of pleasure from the compliment, and I find a grin sneaking onto my face.

  “What happened to you, KC? If you want to talk about it, I’m here. I know I’m an ass sometimes, but I’m trying hard not to be, and I’d like to be your friend. I’m sorry, whatever it was.”

  His words are so thoughtful, so genuine, and he’s not pushing, just offering a sympathetic ear. I can’t believe I’m saying this about the guy I hated at first sight, but I feel like he’s the first person who really cares about what I went through. Suddenly, I want to talk about the thing I’ve been trying to forget for the last several weeks.

  I look at my lap as I speak, still totally humiliated by it. “My boyfriend posted a pretty nasty picture of me on the internet, and it made the rounds to everyone in my old school. Let’s just say my reputation couldn’t survive the fallout.”

  His face melts in sympathy, and he reaches out to give me an awkward hug, leaning his head against mine. His hair smells like coconut, which makes me think of the ocean, which makes me think of walking next to him at the beach.

  “KC, that’s really harsh. I can’t believe anyone would do that, let alone your boyfriend. I hope you dumped his loser ass.”

  I choke out a laugh. “He actually dumped me via text while I was telling him off for doing it. He thought I was making a big deal about nothing.”

  He shakes his head. “Guys can be such idiots. I know; I am one.” He pauses a second with a serious look on his face that slowly morphs into a silly grin.

  “Was it a nude pic? What’s your profile name again?” He smiles wide and wiggles his eyebrows at me, pulling out his phone. I swat his arm, but I can’t help but smile back. Thankfully, without knowing any of my friends or even my full name, I doubt he could find the picture, especially since all my accounts are set to private, now.

  He gets solemn again. “Seriously, though, I’m really sorry. I can see why you weren’t amused by my pranks. You thought I was the kind of person who would do something like that. I’m not though, KC. Even I know that was wrong.”

  I nod and realize I believe him. Even though I thought Jake was the last person I could trust, I’ve seen a side of him that says otherwise.

  “I guess you came here for a fresh start, then, huh?”

  “Yeah, I had to get away. I couldn’t go anywhere without people talking about me or posting cruel things on the internet. Even when I couldn’t hear them, I could see their stares. I wanted to go somewhere no one knew me and just disappear.”

  “And instead you got pranked and humiliated in front of the whole school.” His face pinches up, and he rubs his eyes with his hand.

  “KC, since you told me your secret, I need to tell you one, too. It was me who put the hot sauce in the ketchup. I never expected anyone to get hurt like you did, and I learned my lesson. I’ll never do anything like that again. I’m so sorry I hurt you. If you want to turn me in, I understand.”

  His admission slams into me, even though I always assumed it was him. I want to get mad, scream and yell at him, and tell the principal he’s to blame, but with the pitiful look on his face and his sincere apology, I just can’t. The vice principal has already given up on finding the culprit, so Jake’s admission puts him back at risk. I can’t believe he’s willing to confess to me.

  I sigh and lay a hand on his. “I forgive you, Jake.”

  His head pops up, his mouth hangs open, and his hazel eyes bore into me, filled with emotion.

  The teacher starts class then, the leap into algebra a disconcerting interruption to the moment. I turn around and try to concentrate, but all I can think about is Jake.

  At lunch time, I head to the cafeteria with a sack lunch. Unfortunately, I’m a little late because I had to stay after class to talk to my 4th period teacher for a few minutes, so I don’t see Mia and Kerri in the halls. They probably gave up on trying to get me to sit with them since I freaked out and took off when they invited me last week. That didn’t seem to deter them from inviting me to the beach, though, so hopefully they won’t mind if I sit with them today.

  The room buzzes with noise and activity, and I just stand at the doorway for a minute, feeling completely out of place, but when I look over at the table they normally sit at, Jake and Kerri are waving at me. Mia and Austin turn around to look and offer me welcoming smiles.

  I’m not used to being a loner, to having no friends, no boyfriend. I know I said it was what I wanted, but as soon as I had it I was lonely and miserable. Hanging out with Jake and his friends this weekend was the most fun I’ve had in a month. My feet start moving that direction before my head has a chance to resist.

  Kerri and Mia are sitting shoulder to shoulder with their boyfriends, across from each other. There are several other people I don’t know at the table, but there’s an empty seat next to Jake. He points to it. Sitting next to a guy like that seems kind of awkward, seeing how we’re not a couple.

  We’re not even really friends, barely past enemies. Jake said he wanted to be friends, though, and I have a feeling he might want to be more than that. I guess it’s up to me to decide what I want us to be. I set my tray on the table next to Jake and slide into the chair beside him.

  He and his friends hardly bat an eye. They say hi and keep going with their conversation like me sitting with them is nothing new. Except for Jake, who looks at me and smiles like I just made his day.

  There’s a muscular guy with black hair and dark eyes sitting across from us, giving me a curious look. I flinch when Jake puts his arm around my shoulder and says, “Hey Dylan, this is my new friend, KC. KC, this is my pal, Dyl-hole.”

  “Hey KC, what’s a girl like you doing with a douche bag like Jake?” He gives me a playful leer.

  “He’s been pretty nice to me, so far.” I look pointedly at Jake, hoping he can see how much I appreciate his efforts.

  Dylan raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s not a trick? He’s pretty notorious for those.”

  I can hear a deeper implication in the tone of his voice, and I wonder why he feels the need to warn me off. Isn’t there some kind of bro code against that? Plus, he’s doing it right in front of Jake, which seems even more uncool.

  Is he just trying to get under Jake’s skin for some reason, or does he know something? Should I be worried about it? Maybe he’s trying to clue me in to the fact that Jake was the one who pulled the hot sauce prank.

  “She knows all my secrets already,” Jake says, looking intensely at me instead of Dylan, but I can see Dylan narrow his gaze at Jake from the corner of my eye.

  Kerri interrupts the strained moment with a silly joke, and the tension diffuses, but I still wonder what’s going on between Jake and Dylan.

  Chapter Nine

  KC

  When I wake up Tuesday morning, I can’t believe I’m actually excited about going to school. And it’s not just because I’ve made some friends and am starting to feel normal again. I know some of it (okay, maybe a lot of it) has to do with Jake Matthews.

  I get to 1st period and take the seat next to him, smiling back and feeling flutte
rs inside when he smiles at me. Jake and I work on our project some more, and I feel even more relaxed with him. He doesn’t push me for details about my old life, but he makes it obvious that he cares and doesn’t mind listening if I want to talk.

  At lunchtime, I go to my locker to get my lunch, but I can’t find it. I know I packed it, so where is it? When I’ve pulled everything out of my locker, I’m forced to admit that it’s not there. I must have left it in my dad’s car.

  I trudge to the cafeteria, bummed that I’ll have to buy lunch instead. The cafeteria food doesn’t look very appetizing, and after the hot sauce incident, I’m a little freaked out just thinking about buying lunch here again. When I walk in and see they’re serving tacos, my body seizes up and refuses to budge, even though I keep telling myself to get in line.

  There’s almost always cayenne in taco seasoning, so I definitely can’t eat the taco meat. I could just get a salad, but I’m petrified that something else has been cross-contaminated with cayenne. I ate at a Mexican restaurant on Saturday with no problem — I do it all the time. So why am I suddenly freaking out? I guess this room has been forever tainted in my mind by that one incident.

  While I’m standing at the door agonizing, Jake sees me and approaches. “Hey KC, what’s up? You okay?”

  My terror must be etched into my face. I shake my head and suck in a breath. “I forgot my lunch.”

  His worried look relaxes. “Oh, no big deal. I’ll buy you lunch. Come on.” He reaches for my arm and starts to pull me towards the line, but my feet are cement blocks buried in the ground.

  “No, it’s not that. I have money. It’s just… tacos. I’m kinda having PTSD, or something.” My face twists into a caricature, and Jake’s goes blank for a minute. I can tell when it dawns on him because his eyes widen and his mouth falls open.

  “Oh, man. Hey, how about we go out for lunch? Anywhere you like — my treat.”

 

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