This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Copyright © 2014 by Lizzy Charles
PERFECTLY MESSY by Lizzy Charles
All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Swoon Romance. Swoon Romance and its related logo are registered trademarks of Georgia McBride Media Group, LLC.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Published by Swoon Romance
Cover designed by Victoria Faye
Cover Copyright © 2014 Swoon Romance
Praise for Lizzy Charles
“Perfectly Messy is Young Adult Romance to a kissable “T.” Lizzy Charles nails the butterflies, doubt, mistakes, and beauty of first love with exquisite ease in what is certainly a worthy sequel to Effortless With You!”
—Rebecca Yarros, bestselling author of Full Measures
“A definite MUST READ! Effortless With You left me smiling like a doofus and hugging my Kindle.”
—Cassie Mae, bestselling author of Reasons I Fell For the Funny Fat Friend and How to Date a Nerd
To my son, for being with me through all of this.
To my husband, for keeping things messy.
Chapter One
Lucy
A mousy-haired freshman darts out of my way as I take my first step out of French. I stop in the doorway. “Thanks, but you go ahead.” He blushes as I wave him forward. People behind me groan. They’ll just have to wait. He looks weary so I smile. There’s no reason he has to get out of my way. I’ll wait for the person in front of me just like every other human being should in this school.
Being on top is so different. Strange, really. Becoming Justin’s girlfriend placed me into high-school royalty, which makes sense, as he was just crowned Homecoming King. Immediate popularity is a nice perk, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this sort of treatment. It’s almost sickening how fast I went from the kid hiding in the janitor’s closet to the girl who clears a path with a glance.
The guy finally takes a step from the wall, glancing back with a wave as he makes his way down the hallway. Good. Normalcy.
Laura taps on my back while clearing her throat. “Maaa belle, s’il vous plaît.” Long drawl, pronounced “s” and “t.” I stifle a laugh. When she combines her French with an accentuated southern accent, it’s nothing less than awesome. And horrible. That too.
She gives me a little shove, and I stumble into the hallway. “All right, all right. I’m moving.”
“So, what does Justin have on the agenda tonight?” she says, twirling a pencil around her curled blond hair and locking it in a top bun.
“Another surprise.” It takes everything in me to not squeal with delight. He’s so amazing with surprises. Last time it was ice cream while walking around the state capitol. The time before? A twilight game of one-on-one basketball, the winner choosing the type of kiss they’d like. I totally let him win, dying to know what way he likes me kissing him most. It’s crazy passionate kissing, melting into a long, careful kiss, where we start standing but I end up on his lap. Not that he told me this, but he basically showed me. I just can’t get enough of the way he—
“Earth to Lucy.” Laura pops up in front of me, fingers twitching like Martian antennas. “Man, you’ve got it bad. I don’t know if I ever got so lost over Luke.”
Shaking my head, I desperately try to rid myself of Justin-like thoughts. I don’t know why I try though. It’s impossible.
“It’s just, he’s so amazing, Laura. He’s beyond any guy I ever imagined possible…”
Laura rolls her eyes, placing her hand against my forehead. “Yeah, you’re definitely lovesick. Let me get you home before I have to take you to the ICU.”
“About that ride home…”
“Let me guess. Justin?”
“He wants to pick me up. We haven’t seen each other for a couple of days. We need time to reconnect.”
“Riiight.” Laura turns from me, wrapping her arms around her body and moving them up and down so it looks like she’s making out with someone in the corner. Some guy wolf whistles as he passes us. Nicely played.
I spin her out of the self make out session. “No, really. With Justin, it’s not only that. Talking to him is incredible. I could go on forever, he makes me so relaxed.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“AND?”
I throw my hands in the air. “Okay, and I like the kissing part too.”
“There we go!” Laura says as she wraps her arm around my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Luce. Let’s enjoy the hormone-driven roller coaster while we can.”
I pull her into a quick hug. “I’ll call you, all right?”
“Text. I’ll probably be getting my own make out session on with Lukester tonight.”
“Okay, never mind. Let’s catch up tomorrow, cool?”
“Great.” She winks as she walks away with the perfect amount of minimal, but classy, hip sway. Lucky. She owns her southern charm. If I tried that, I’d look like a penguin. A flash of blond from across the locker bay catches my eye. Marissa glares at me. My eyes dart away, refusing to allow myself to go down that hate road right now.
I stop for a moment, opening the door to the closet where I used to hide from my brutal teammates during my freshman year. Now that I’m finally a junior, I make sure to check it regularly. I’m keeping my promise to check in there often, in case someone needs help. I never want someone to have to use it as a shelter from torture again.
Only brooms, brushes, and toxic chemicals this time. Good. Maybe our school is changing.
I turn into the locker bay for upperclassmen. They’re larger, and near the snack bar. I fiddle with the combination before opening the door. It’s ridiculous that they’ve banned cell phones from everywhere but the locker. I used to keep the combination in my note app. Seriously, how do teachers expect us to remember all the passwords and stuff required to survive a school day without a phone?
The lock finally gives and, with a swift kick to the bottom left corner, the door pops open. A note flutters to the floor.
Hey, Lady. I’ll meet you in about forty-five seconds. Can’t believe I have to wait so long to hold you. Love, Justin.
I glance around at the empty hallway. There’s no way he’s got this timed that precisely. I laugh. The guy’s got to have limits, right?
With my French book slid in place on the shelf, I pull out my AP English homework and Emma. Mr. Tatem is giving me the chance to rewrite my Emma essay from last year to boost my GPA for college applications. Initially I refused, but he insisted. So here I am, facing a giant twelve-page rewrite plus the AP reading and a small three-page essay for the weekend. Hopefully, this is the only essay he wants rewritten. Redoing tenth grade Advanced English while dealing with AP English would end me via an agonizing, literary death.
A warm palm wraps around my hip and gives it a slow squeeze. I yelp, dropping the book as Justin’s laugh rolls through my heart.
“Hey, Lady,” he says, spinning me around and taking a step closer. He pins me against the locker, playfully touching his lips to mine.
“Sixty-two seconds,” I say when his lips pull away. Actually, I have no idea, but it’s Justin. Who am I kidding? It’s probably been
exactly forty-five seconds since the note dropped.
Justin chuckles as he takes a step back, doing his signature hand pull through his gorgeous dark hair. His biceps pop and I bite my tongue. Holy crap. I can’t believe I used to hate when he did that.
“Can you please do that all the time?” I beg with a step forward.
“The kissing? Yes.”
“Well, that and the flexing.”
“For you? I suppose.” He bends down and scoops my bag up over his shoulder as we walk out toward his car.
“So, what’s the plan tonight?”
He hands me the purple flyer I’ve been avoiding for the last two weeks. I don’t even need to open it to know what it says. October fourth, three-fifteen, girls’ basketball tryouts, south gym. Sign up online.
One week.
“I don’t know, Justin.”
“Just take it.” He places the purple sheet in my palm. “You get distracted every time you see this thing on a wall. Please, keep it. If anything, so I don’t have to steer you through the sea of students every morning.”
“Fine.” I groan, folding the flyer and slipping it into my back pocket. “Better?”
Justin admires my placement of the paper. “I don’t know. Why don’t you bend over a bit more so I can make a further assessment?”
I yank out the flyer and swat him on the chest. “For real?”
“What? I can’t help it around you.” He clicks his key fob. The engine roars to life as he opens my door.
“So, we’re playing ball tonight?” I touch my phone’s screen. “I should probably let my parents know.”
“Nope. I’ve got something completely different planned.”
“Okay? What’s up your sleeve?”
“Don’t worry about it. I called your parents already, even stopped in to get everything you’ll need,” he says, gesturing toward the back seat as he shuts my door. Mom’s old garment bag hangs from a hook. My red pumps lie on the seat.
Oh my God. My stomach plummets. My room’s a mess. I haven’t picked up laundry in a week. There’s got to be underwear on my closet floor. And not just any underwear, period underwear, the cotton rejects that you don’t care if you destroy. Crap. What if he saw my period stains? My stained granny panties!
“You were in my room?” I squeak out as he slides into the driver’s seat. He doesn’t answer immediately. Holy hell. He totally saw my period stains! “Please, tell me you weren’t in my room.”
He shrugs.
“Justin. Seriously. I need to know.” I cover my mouth. This can’t be happening. One month of dating, no matter how comfortable I am with him, is way too early for this sort of exposure.
Justin takes my hand. “Relax, Lucy. Your mom went up there.” He rubs my arm. “The only time I’ve been in your room was the night Marissa cheated with Zach. Stupid guy to go for that. Even then,” he squeezes my palm, “I don’t remember anything except how pretty you looked, even crying.”
“That’s kind of pathetic.”
“Whatever. I took every glimpse of you I could get.”
I shift in my seat a bit, not yet knowing how to handle all of his compliments. They’re never ending and it’s hard to understand why. With another squeeze of my palm, he eases up on me. I love how he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“So, where are we going?”
“My place.”
My heart jolts. I’ve never been in his house. We’ve driven by it, but his parents were never home and his dad’s staff uses his living room as campaign headquarters. In the last weeks, it’s gotten out of control. Thankfully, Justin’s post-secondary Psych class ends at one fifteen every other day, so he’s home helping out his dad way before the actual school day is over.
“Wait, so like, meeting your parents?”
“Not now. They’re out. Just you and me.”
Alone with Justin in his house? For real? This is his best surprise ever.
“So, I’ll get to see where you eat?”
“Eat, sleep, and shower,” he says as he pulls into his neighborhood development.
My face warms, but I don’t even try to get rid of the tomato shade. Instead I toss him a sideways glance. “Sleep and shower? What exactly do you have in mind, sir?”
Justin playfully shrugs as he pulls into his driveway. Butterflies ping pong through my gut. Making out on his bed would be heaven, but seeing his bed will be a new side of Justin. Way more intimate.
Justin pulls around the main garage to a small, non-attached two-car garage in back. The garage door raises and there sits his old rusty painting truck, tarp drawn over it. Dead.
“I can’t get rid of her yet. Still hoping I can get her fixed. Plus, she makes a great storage vehicle for the painting supplies.” I open my door before Justin can, stepping over random gallons of paint that are pushed flush with the walls. Varying sized ladders hang from nearly every wall or ceiling beam.
“Oh really?” I laugh when Justin accidentally knocks the end of a ladder as he squeezes out from the tight fit on his side of the car.
“Hush, you.” He vaults the hood of his car, sweeping me up in his arms with a kiss.
Suddenly, a towel hits us in the face. “Too much PDA, guys!” A head full of light brown hair pops up from inside the truck bed and I scream. I hate how easily I startle.
“Alex!” I squeal. “I’ve missed you!” Our school’s so massive that the few times I’ve crossed him in the hallway isn’t enough compared to the hundreds of hours we spent painting together last summer.
“Dude. Were you hiding in there waiting for us?” Justin tosses up his hands.
Alex tosses a paint roller at Justin. “No. I have a life.” He winks at me while he jumps out of the truck. “Lucy, how are you? I’ve missed you too.” After Justin puts me down, he wraps me in a perfect Alex-hug, the type that always brings a smile no matter how awkward the situation is.
“Why are you here, Alex?” Justin lays into him with an underlying tone that says leave us alone. I can’t help but giggle. It’s still amazing to me that Justin wants to be alone with me. Me!
“What? Can’t a guy just show up to haunt his favorite cousin’s garage? Especially on a day where that cousin is bringing home his girlfriend to an empty house. Feels like the perfect time to drop in.”
“Dude.” Justin eyes him while Alex tosses an arm over my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. I love watching them banter like brothers. They’re that type of cousins, real family rather than only a link by blood.
“All right. I get the hint.” Alex says with a laugh. He reaches over the truck bed and pulls out a brush and a can of primer. “I’m finishing up the front window trim on the rambler down the block, remember?”
“That’s right. It chipped in the last storm.”
“Do you also remember that you said you’d pay me double for doing it tonight?”
Justin’s eyes bulge. “Double?” Alex’s face is stone as he nods.
“Oh, Justin. That’s so sweet of you.” I nudge Alex. If Alex is serious, there’s a joke behind it. I’ll never forget that Alex was my first friend when I had to work for Justin’s painting business last summer. I may be dating Justin, but I’ll always stand by Alex in all Justin targeted pranks and jokes.
Justin steps toward Alex. “Double?” he asks again.
“Yup.”
“You sure I said double?”
“Absolutely.”
“All right then.” He pulls Alex in close and throws two stunt punches in his gut. Alex’s response correlates perfectly, crunching over in feigned agony.
“Thanks, boss,” Alex says in a moan.
“I aim to please.” Justin smirks. Alex reaches up, trying to grab Justin’s head and pull it into a headlock. Justin bows out though, slapping Alex on the back with a laugh.
“You around to play ball tomorrow?” Alex asks while they scuffle.
“Can’t. I’ve got two papers to write and a post fundraiser meeting with Dad.” Justin takes a fake pu
nch to the face.
“Next week?”
“Text me, man. We’ll work something out.” Justin wraps his arm around Alex’s neck, catching him in headlock. He gives him a quick noogie before release. Alex rubs his head before taking a seat on the bumper of the truck. Justin grunts. “Maybe you should get going on that rambler’s trim before it rains.”
“I was actually thinking of staying. Did you know that acid rain is a real thing? It’s not worth the risk.”
Justin grabs a cart, tossing in the primer and paint brush. “One. Two…” Justin starts counting. “Three. Four.”
Alex stretches his arm overhead with a fake yawn. “Do you mind if I take a nap on your basement couch? I’m exhausted. I won’t be a bother. Promise.”
“Five. Six. Seven.”
“Or we could play Yahtzee?”
“Eight.” Justin’s voice is stern. “Nine.” He reaches for Alex as he says “TEN.”
Alex bolts from the bumper, grabbing the cart and running from the garage. “Bye Lucy!”
“Bye!” I wave as Alex jogs away. “Justin, what happens when you get to ten?”
He rubs his jaw, making my stomach flip in delight. “I don’t know. He’s never been brave enough to find out.”
“He’s a good kid.”
“Yeah. So far freshman year has been good to him. Hope it continues.”
“Me too,” I say quietly, trying to block the memories of my own bullied freshman year.
Justin wraps his arms around me, kissing my neck. “So?”
“So?”
“Want to see where I live?”
***
I run my finger over the smooth granite countertop as Justin grabs apples from the woven fruit basket sitting on the antique farm table. “It’s gorgeous here,” I say, admiring the rich dark wood of the kitchen.
“My mom loves interior design.”
“It’s like a magazine. Flawless.”
“Yeah, she’s kind of a clean freak. But,” he opens some cabinets along the wall, “she just knows how to hide the mess.” The cabinets are lined with cork, random papers pinned disorderly to the doors. Crumpled paper sticks out from the overfilled drawers. Much better.
“Now, this makes me feel more at home.”
Perfectly Messy Page 1
