How to Hook a Bookworm (How To #3)

by Cassie Mae

  My eyes widen, and I try to keep from laughing. It still hurts my head to think a guy so good looking gets so nervous like this.

  “Um, wow.”

  His breath whooshes out of him like he was holding it till I said something. “That’s it?”

  I shake my head and smile. I wasn’t meaning to be distant; I’ve just been busy. From studying with Adam on Tuesday, then looking for jobs most of the other days—my head’s been up somewhere not here. I did say we’d get together again. Maybe I can figure out what the hell it is we’re doing.

  “Tomorrow night is probably okay.”

  He cocks his head to the side, brows knitting together. “Wait… what?”

  “We can watch the movie tomorrow. I just have to check with my mom.”

  “Oh… oh! Okay.” A grin plays on his lips, and suddenly nervous and tense fly out the window replaced by confident and relaxed. “I can pick you up at around six-ish. I’ll just need your address.”

  Ugh. No. I don’t want him seeing my hole of a house. “Um, actually…” Quick, think, Brea! “Maybe I could just go straight from school to your place?”

  “You don’t want to go home?”

  “Well…” I panic, searching for some excuse that I need to be at his house right after school and dropped off somewhere that isn’t my house. “I haven’t seen any of the Final Destination movies.” Oh, Brea, you are brilliant. “I was thinking we should watch them in order, one right after the other. So we’d have to start early, right?”

  His smile widens. “Sure.” He leans toward me. “Okay, so tomorrow I’ll just take you to my house.”

  “I’ll have to ask my mom, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Text me?”

  “Yep.”

  The librarian comes over the intercom, announcing that they’re closing. Jay walks me over to the checkout, and he talks about the movies, letting me know they’re all pretty stupid, but entertaining. I panic a little when we get outside, worried he might ask if I need a ride home, but he just gestures to his car, saying he’s “This way” while I point in the other direction. We do this awkward hug thing, but he smells good and I hold on a little longer than I would have if it was someone else. When he rounds the corner, I dive behind the return book box and wait till I see him drive off.

  Maybe once I really get to know him I’ll let him see where I live. But right now, I think it’s best that he doesn’t.

  ***

  Adam: Come on down. Our nuts are bigger and better!

  I laugh at the text, and run smack into my mailbox. There should probably be a law against texting and walking.

  Rubbing my boob that hit the mail flag, I pause on the sidewalk and text back.

  Brea: I’m sold! Except…shoot. No car. No cash. But maybe I can get the squirrel to bring me some 2nite?

  Adam: In exchange for a new book.

  Brea: Deal.

  Adam: Okay, gotta go twirl my wicked sign. I’ll c-u soon.

  I shift my bag full of books and tuck my phone in my pocket as I walk up my porch. The door’s locked, which is weird ’cause I thought Mom was home, but maybe the temp agency called. Or she has a job interview or something. Oh, that would be freaking amazing.

  “Hello?” I call, taking my key out of the door. “Mom? Levi?”

  It sort of smells weird. Like manly, but not like my brother’s cologne. I drop my bag near the edge of the couch and slip my shoes off to add them to the pile by the furnace.

  “Anyone home?” I call out again, but there’s nothing but crickets in response. A smile creeps onto my face because if Mom isn’t home, that means she’s probably out working. Maybe the job that called her in will stick, and Levi can move out, and I can focus on school and not worry my pants off over the bills.

  I grab a string cheese stick from the fridge and saunter down the hall to my room. Just as my fingers hit my doorknob, a thump jolts my mom’s bedroom door. I drop my string cheese and let out a yelp.

  Something shuffles around in Mom’s room. Then she pokes her head out and looks at me like I’ve grown a uni-brow.

  “I thought you were going to Adam’s.”

  I tilt my head a bit. “Uh, yeah. Later.” Something shuffles again behind Mom, and my brow furrows. “Is someone… in there?”

  Mom’s face turns red—well, redder than it was—and she slides out into the hallway. She closes her robe, but I catch a glimpse of something black and silky. My stomach gets a huge twist.

  “Could you head there now, maybe?” she asks in a low voice. My stomach will not stop wrenching.

  “What’s going on?” I ask it, but I’m pretty sure I know damn well what’s going on. I just wonder how long she’s had a boyfriend and has hidden it from us.

  “Not now, please.” Her eyes glisten with panic, and her reddened face washes white. “I’ll explain to you later, just please don’t tell—”

  “Uh, I paid for a full hour, so I better get it!”

  The male voice behind the door is rough, deep, and makes all my insides harden into a block of cement. Mom looks like she’s about to cry, and I squeeze my arms together over my chest so I don’t slap her.

  She’s doing it for money.

  Mom watches the realization hit me like a chunk of ice. She reaches out, but I step back, not wanting to be touched and really wishing I’d gone straight to Adam’s after the library.

  “Please don’t tell your brother,” she whispers, and… I lose it. Tripping over the cheese I dropped, I stumble to my backpack, snatching it up and forcing my eyes to stay dry. Adam’s not off work yet, but I really don’t care. I just need out. I need out for a while.

  “I’m spending the night at Sierra’s for the weekend,” I shoot over my shoulder. I don’t care if she approves or not. I really don’t care about anything but getting out.

  I hit the sidewalk, still forcing my tears behind my eyeballs. I tear at my hair, twisting it into a braid and walk… who knows where.

  Is this really what it’s come down to? Sleeping with people for money? I can’t even think about it without wanting to yack all over the cement.

  At what point do you do anything just to get food in your house?

  Chapter 11

  To turn off your brain, all you need is a little bit of kissing.

  I have ten minutes left in class, and my test is blank in front of me. The first question looks blurry, and my head feels like it’s been bashed with a pickaxe.

  Most kids are done, doodling in their notebooks, picking at their nails, making footballs with their notepaper.

  And I sit there, not answering a damn question.

  I spent the night at Sierra’s after I went home to pack a weekend bag. Adam and I didn’t study. I told him I felt like shit, and I’d talk to him when I could, but at the time, I didn’t want to talk about anything. All I did was sketch and sketch at Sierra’s place while she went out with Levi. I knew she’d tell him how I showed up out of nowhere, but I just didn’t care last night. Luckily he didn’t ask any questions.

  I still haven’t cried because I’m not sure if I can. Once I start, how do I stop?

  The first question focuses enough for me to make out the words “Columbus” and “country” but that’s it. I can’t think, and even if I could, I wonder if I ever had a chance of passing this test even without all the family crap I’m going through.

  I turn the test over, pretending I’m done, which I guess I am. I give up. Ms. Weber must’ve been waiting on me because she starts collecting the tests in exchange for our phones. She tucks my blank paper in her stack and holds the phone bin out to me. My heart drops a few inches in my chest when I see I’m the only one with a go-phone.

  It shouldn’t matter. But after seeing my mom doing what she was doing for this cheap ass cell, my holey clothes, my lack of transportation… it fuels a fire so deep in my gut that I want to chuck the phone across the room because it isn’t worth it.

  I’m getting a job. I don’t care what Levi says
. If he knew what was happening, he’d tell me to find one too.

  The bell rings and everyone stands from their seats. Well, except me. I stay planted, doodling a flame across my forearm with a blue pen. People don’t care. No one talks to me.

  “Brea?” Ms. Weber says from the back of the room once everyone’s vamoosed. I stick a piece of gum in my mouth and tuck my pen away. It’s not like I have a class to get to, but I guess I can’t sit here for the rest of the day.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, pulling my backpack strap over my shoulder.

  She steps in front of the row of desks, blocking my exit. The stack of tests is still in her hand.

  “Would you like to stay and finish?”

  I know I shouldn’t be angry. She’s looking at me like she’s concerned and not frustrated as hell over my inability to take a test without freaking out. But I am angry. I’m fuming. I want out of this school, out of my house, out… just out.

  “I did finish.” I try to shrug past, but she steps in front of me again.

  “I can help you if you need.” She adjusts the papers in her arms. “Test anxiety is actually pretty common, and I—”

  “I don’t have test anxiety.” I crawl over a desk to get past her. “I’m just stupid, okay? So fail me.”

  “Brea…”

  I’m out the door before she can give me the “I totally understand” lecture. Is her mother screwing some dude for money? Does she have to watch her brother work endless hours just to get some heat in her tiny trailer? Does she have to deal with that crap, then take a stupid test on something that happened a billion years ago that no one cares about anymore?

  I seriously doubt it.

  The hallways are pretty empty already. Most everyone jets out of this place as soon as they can after the final bell. I walk around like I have lead in my shoes.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I take a long look at the flame across my arm before pulling it out.

  Oh shoot, I totally spaced…

  “Hey, Jay.”

  “Hey. We’re still on, yeah? I can’t find you.”

  Part of me wants to cancel. But a bigger part feels like this is it. My escape. Jay knows nothing about my family. He doesn’t know I’m failing four classes. He doesn’t know… and I need someone who doesn’t know—who can help me run away.

  “I’m in the history hall. Where are you?”

  “Main hall.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Awesome.”

  I shove my phone back in my pocket and spit my gum out in the nearest trash. My feet race to the main hall, and I send another seemingly impossible wish to the skies.

  Please let this cure everything.

  ***

  “What’s this?” Jay asks when he opens his front door for me. His finger trails along the temporary tattoo I gave myself in class.

  I shrug. “Got bored last period.”

  “You drew this?”

  “Uh… yeah,” I mumble, because I can’t seem to pay attention to what it is we’re talking about because ho-lee hell…this house I just walked into? Seriously humungous.

  “It looks awesome,” he says.

  “Huh?”

  His mouth quirks at the corner as he watches me take in the entryway. It looks like a room, even though I know it’s not. The stairs split in two, curving around a large fountain right in the center. Who the hell has a fountain in their entryway?

  “I’ll show you around,” he says, taking my hand and prying me from the spot. I can’t even concentrate on all the stuff he shows me. Big ass kitchen. Got that. Big ass formal room, living room, dining room. Check, check, check. A pool. Freaking pool. I had no idea people actually live like this. My entire trailer (and my neighbor’s) could fit in the guest bathroom.

  He takes me to a theater room with a popcorn machine and moving seats. We settle in the front row, and he still hasn’t let go of my hand.

  “It’s big, I know. I still get lost sometimes.” He laughs.

  “Oh, right. This is your stepdad’s place.”

  “Yeah. The house he bought for my mom is a bit smaller, but once her job got relocated, we shipped off here.”

  I press back into the leather seat, bringing my braid around front. “Do you like it?”

  His blue eyes skate over my hair, and his breath hitches. I hold mine, not sure what he’s thinking because I’m not really doing anything, yet his grip on my hand has tightened and gotten a little moist.

  “It was different.” He gulps. “But it’s gotten a lot better.”

  The air around us gets so heavy I feel like I could choke on it. Jay inches a little closer, but stops before he kisses me. I don’t know if he was planning on kissing me again, but it sure looked like it, and I don’t know yet if I’m in the mood.

  He clears his throat and backs up the inches he moved forward. “So… Final Destination?”

  I force a smile and nod. He lets go of my fingers, and when he’s not looking I wipe my palm free of the sweat he put in it.

  “It’s up in my room, actually,” he says when he stands, and I don’t move.

  “Do you want me to wait here?”

  Giving me a nervous smile, he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, no. My room’s more comfortable, so I thought we’d watch up there. But if you want to watch it here that’s okay, too. But I thought since we were doing all five movies, you’d want to be able to lie down or sit or whatever.”

  I take a look at the theater seats, and he’s right. A few hours in these would probably kill my butt bone. But I’m not stupid—or all the way stupid—because I also notice the lack of make-out possibilities.

  Taking a deep breath, I slide out of the theater seat and nod for him to lead the way. Jay’s hand twines itself with mine again, and he pulls me a step closer. I really do like the way he smells. It’s like when you open a magazine and smell all the cologne samples. Not so strong you’re going to pass out, but strong enough to make you want to close your eyes and suck it in.

  He runs a thumb over my wrist, right where I ended the blue flame. Before I have time to tell him he’s going to get ink all over him, his lips gently touch mine, almost asking me if it’s okay for them to be there.

  It’s so short and so soft, I’m not even sure if it really happens, but something happens. I can’t even describe it really. Just that my stomach soars into my throat, and for that two second touch I forget everything. I forget about my grades. I forget about the blank test. I forget about Mom.

  Jay exhales against my mouth and says, “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I knew I was going to kiss you again.” His eyes flick to mine. “But I wanted to wait since I only get one per date.”

  I’d forgotten I even said that. That lip-gloss smothered kiss was so awkward I think I just spouted the first thing that came to my head so we wouldn’t have another one. But my lips are makeup free this time, and if something so small could make something so big disappear from my head, I want more of it.

  Dropping his hand, I rush to grab the back of his neck instead. It’s not smooth. It’s not slow. It’s not this perfect kiss that makes butterflies shoot out my brain. But I don’t give a freaking shit. It does the job. It shuts off everything and anything that isn’t Jay.

  He feels stunned for a second, but soon his mouth gets into the same tempo as mine. And I don’t know about him, but I don’t plan on stopping.

  ***

  I have no clue what Jay’s room looks like. I know there’s a bed. I know there’s a couch. I know he put the movie on, and it’s playing in the background, but I have no idea what’s happening.

  My lips are sore. My chin is raw. I can’t seem to get a grip on my breathing. We’ve tossed our top layers, leaving me in a hand-me down cami from Sierra and him in a light undershirt. His muscles are rocks. I’m growing quite fond of his chiseled jaw. His breaths come out in sharp gasps in tune with mine. And I feel like now I get it. Why the kissing thing is a big deal. Becau
se it’s hard not to think about anything else when you’re into it.

  “Brea?” he pants against the top of my chest where his lips are.

  A moan rips from my throat that was meant to sound something like, “Yeah?” but it comes out more like something you’d hear on a porn.

  “Can we make this official?”

  “Huh?”

  His lips skitter to mine, and we make them sore for a few more seconds.

  “You and me. I want to make it official.”

  My brain is off, so my mouth pops open with a, “Sure” before I even have time to think if it’s what I really want. But he smiles and it sort of melts my limbs, so I don’t take it back.

  Our mouths explore each other for a few more minutes, up until I think my face is emanating smoke.

  “Jay, I need a break,” I breathe, and he pauses against my chin. His eyes open to mine and his pupils look so large they almost take over the blue.

  “Okay, sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  I kiss him to shut up his fumbling. “It’s not that. I want to kiss you, but my face sort of hurts.”

  “Oh…Oh! Yeah, sorry.” He slides back, lifting his body off mine. His butt hits the mattress next to me, and I sit up and re-braid my hair.

  We don’t say anything. It’s one of those awkward Jay silences, but at the moment, it doesn’t really bother me. Maybe that’s a good thing. We don’t talk. We kiss. That’s how we work, and after what we just spent all afternoon doing…I’m thinking it’s going to work really well.