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To the Grade 11 girls of my Creative Writing Fiction class of SY 2016–2017. Your talent and enthusiasm brought new life into my writing. All of you will run the world one day.
PROLOGUE
GRADUATION DAY
Big brothers suck, Stella thought as she pouted, scowled, and crossed her arms all throughout the ceremony. Not even the California sun and the scent of fresh-cut grass made a difference to her current mood. She should have been ecstatic that Camron James Patterson, spawn of Satan sent to make her life a living hell, was graduating high school that day. Instead the seat reserved for her boyfriend of officially one week remained empty. The guy was a total no-show.
Stella had been extra careful too. She made sure Darryl liked her enough before introducing him to her mom. They had been dating a few weeks prior to the meet. But when Cam found out, he went all guard dog on Darryl’s ass. First, it was the probing questions like “What are your plans for my sister?” and “Are you sure you’re good enough for her?” and Stella’s personal favorite, “What kind of future do you think you have with her?”
No one wanted to think about those things at freaking seventeen! She didn’t even think about those things. Ugh! She hated her brother with the passion of a thousand suns.
As if the questions weren’t enough, Cam laid the intimidation on thick. How he made sure Darryl knew he slept with his favorite Louisville Slugger close by. How he wasn’t afraid to teach Darryl a lesson on manners. And worst of all, the line “Whatever you do to my sister, I will happily do to you,” said with a straight face and capped off with a smile. It did the trick, judging from the unanswered texts, tweets, DMs, even a Snapchat SOS. Darryl was officially ghosting her.
“I can’t wait until you’re gone,” she mumbled to herself as her brother climbed the stage and received the rolled-up piece of paper that stood in for the actual diploma. She winced immediately after speaking. The elastics her orthodontist had put in the other day did their job. At least Dr. Africa hadn’t run out of the pink ones this time. Stella loved that his last name was a continent.
Rubbing her cheek to ease some of the tightness in her jaw—from the constant gritting of her teeth—Stella consoled herself with the thought that, like her brother, the braces would be gone soon. There would be more boyfriends in her future. With what she had planned over the summer break, there would definitely be more boyfriends. Stella practically rubbed her hands together at the prospect of her impending freedom.
After the ceremony, Stella raised her mom’s phone. Watching her fuss over Cam through the screen while she waited for them to pose for the traditional graduate-between-parents photo—minus her dad—she saw pieces of herself. In her mother were her straight, black hair, complexion, and full lips. What her father—may his soul rest in peace—had blessed her with were high cheekbones and a lanky figure. Oh, what she would give for her mother’s curves.
Cam was the total opposite. He got their father’s light skin, only now it was tanned from all those hours spent under the sun playing baseball. He also got Dad’s curly mop and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. From Mom, he’d received his hazel eyes. Stella wanted those eyes. Luck of the draw in the genetics pool! She was convinced, had she been born first, those eyes would have been hers instead of the plain brown she walked around with. Alas.
“Say cheese,” Stella said once they finally posed, and Cam hammed it up, puffing his chest out. She had already suffered through the family group shots. She estimated about ten more photos and her mom would be satisfied.
“Now one with you and your kuya,” her mom said, using the Filipino term for brother. She waved her hands enthusiastically for the phone while pulling her heels out of the grass every time they sank into the ground as she approached Stella.
“Ugh!” Stella rolled her eyes. “Do I have to?”
“Come on, little sis,” Cam said, a big smile on his face, waving her over. “One for the road.”
Stella weighed the pros and cons of refusing. She was still so mad at him for driving another one away. Darryl could have been The One, for all she knew. Yet Cam was still her brother. He had his good points. Like the time he’d helped her save a kitten stuck in a tree. Almost broke his arm in the process. Like the time he’d stayed up all night sewing sequins on a dress she wanted to wear for spring fling. Dateless, but still. And that time he’d driven all night before her birthday just to pick up a part for her sewing machine after it had broken down. She was never going to admit it to anyone, but she was going to miss him.
“Stella Marie Patterson,” her mom said. Using her full name always meant she had been or was about to be in some sort of trouble.
“All right!” She added a pinch of indignation to her tone.
Her mother nudged her forward.
Stella dropped her hands to her sides and trudged the rest of the way to her still-smiling brother. Once she was at his side, he swung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer. Grudgingly, Stella didn’t resist.
“Take off your glasses, Stella,” her mother said from behind the phone.
Unwilling to prolong the agony, Stella removed her thick, black frames, folding the sides carefully and dropping them into her purse. Then she pushed her braids over her shoulders and smiled—braces and all.
“Happy?” Stella asked through her teeth.
“I’m always happy,” Cam replied through the side of his mouth as their mom fidgeted with the camera settings.
Stella lost her smile. “When are you leaving again?”
“Another one bites the dust,” Cam sang smugly.
“You’re ruining my life!”
“He wasn’t good for you.”
“In your eyes, no one is.” Stella’s fingers curled into fists at her sides.
“Trust me.”
“How do you even know?” she challenged, glaring up at him.
Cam gave her a sidelong glance. “You hid him. That’s all the proof I need.”
“I only did that because I knew you’d drive him away. Which is exactly what happened after I finally had the guts to tell Mom. And news flash, she was cool with it!”
“Say cheese,” their mother said.
Cam smiled. Stella did not.
“Oh, Stella,” her mom said with a cluck of disappointment.
Stella didn’t care. She was too angry. She pushed away from Cam and faced him.
“I’m tired of you policing my life!” she said, not bothering to use her inside voice. The new elastics be damned. “You hover over me more than Mom does. You’re such a jerk!”
“Stella, don’t talk like that to your brother,” their mother interjected. Her fiery temper was another thing Stella had inherited.
“Stella, I’m only—”
“I’m sick of it,” she snapped, cutting Cam off. “Congratulations on graduating. I’m going home!” She turned on her heel, the skirt of th
e dress she had made swishing with the movement, and stomped away.
“But we’re having lunch—”
“Just let her cool off,” she heard Cam telling their mother.
Stella kept walking, her kitten heels digging into the grass. She mashed her lips together to keep from crying out of sheer frustration. She didn’t even care that everything ahead of her was a blur. All she wanted was to keep moving. Only one thing would make everything better.
“Slappy?” said a rich male voice she would have recognized in a crowded airport.
Flutters woke in her stomach. Even if she hated the nickname he had given her, hearing it never failed to make her knees turn to jelly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she pulled her glasses from her purse and pushed them up the bridge of her nose. Only then did she allow herself to face him.
Her cheeks grew hot. Of course she needed to wear her glasses. Why would she want to miss seeing every detail of the perfection in front of her? She liked to think there was a shine of mischief just for her in those brilliant eyes—gray as a sleet sky. The sunlight played in his spun-silk chestnut hair. The strands were tamed for the occasion. The bump on his nose was from a time he fell face-first while skateboarding. The scar on his chin, running parallel to his lower lip, was from the back of Cam’s head making contact while they were wrestling as kids. The imperfections gave his looks character. She loved him all the more for them. But his best feature was his smile. All her insides went gooey when he smiled.
“Oh, hi, Will,” she said. William Montgomery. Even his name was perfect. The only thing she hated about him was he happened to be her brother’s best friend. “Congratulations on graduating.”
“Thanks.” He bent his considerable height and stared straight into her eyes. She loved that his height made her feel petite even though she was all of five ten. “What’s wrong?”
She was torn. On the one hand, she was happy to see him. On the other, she was annoyed. He wasn’t innocent in all this. She reminded herself not to be distracted by his perfection. And just like that, her annoyance took over her happiness. She could actually feel it in the coming together of her eyebrows.
“Ugh! You.” She stabbed a finger at him. “You’re just as bad as he is.”
“Whoa!” He raised his hands as if her finger were loaded. “What’d I do?”
“More like what you and your ‘bro’ did.” She sandwiched the word bro with air quotes.
“Hey! Don’t knock the bro code. What’d Cam do now?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t deny you had anything to do with it. You’re Robin to his Batman when it comes to scaring my boyfriends away.”
He shrugged one shoulder and muttered, “More like Sam to his Dean, but whatever. To-may-to, to-mah-to.”
“Ugh!” Stella’s fists trembled at her sides. “I’m so glad to be rid of both of you!”
Yet where had she heard that boys pretended to be mean to the girls they liked? Did Will’s helping her brother scare away boyfriends mean he secretly liked her? Her stomach flipped. No. She ran a hand down one braid. Will couldn’t like her. She knew his type. Tall. Leggy. Usually with straight, blond hair. Stella was none of those things. Stella was braces and glasses and braids.
“That Darryl guy is a huge jerk anyway,” Will said matter-of-factly.
Stella whipped her head up, her jaw dropping. Then she pressed her lips together before she said, “Of course you’d say that. For all I know, Cam’s brainwashed you into thinking that.”
“You know he’s only protecting you, right?” He tugged at one of her braids. The gesture never failed to make Stella self-conscious. “And my brain is my own, thank you very much.”
“It’s killing my social life.” It wasn’t like she could have the guy she really wanted. That part she left out.
Once, she’d had this crazy notion that she was the Barbie to Will’s Ken. Of course, loving Will was just a pipe dream. He was totally off-limits. Cam would blow a gasket. Plus Will didn’t see her that way. She was forever in the baby-sister zone. But still … being with him would be so worth it.
“Hey, will you do me a favor?”
Will’s voice shocked her out of a potentially dangerous daydream involving finding out just how soft his lips were.
“Um…” Stella nudged her glasses farther up her nose. “Sure.”
What else was she supposed to say? Seriously. Anything for Will.
“I know it’s asking a lot.…” He paused.
“What is it?” She leaned closer and batted her eyelashes.
“With me moving out, Nana is going to be all alone,” he finally said. “Will you check on her from time to time over the summer? Just to see if she’s okay? I’ve got that workshop to attend so I’m leaving earlier than anticipated.”
Nana was what Will called his grandmother. With his parents in Doctors Without Borders, he’d grown up with her. Actually, they all had—playing in her huge backyard. She always had a fresh batch of cookies and lemonade waiting for them afterward.
“Of course,” Stella said, her heart warming. “You don’t even need to ask twice.”
Will breathed like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He pulled Stella into a tight hug. The shock of the contact was short. She slipped her arms into his graduation gown and wrapped them around his lean waist. Of its own accord, her head rested against his strong shoulder. She inhaled the pre-summer air mixed with his aftershave. Sharp. Spicy. She could smell him all day. For as long as he held her, she would let herself imagine the possibility of them. She could almost taste it. Feel it at her fingertips.
The moment was broken by the bane of her existence because that was just her luck. This was her life. Great. So not.
Cam said, “Yo, bro! We got to go!”
As if her body were a live wire, Will jumped back. Like, literally, jumped away from her. All the elation caused by the hug drained away. She was a bucket with a hole. It was back to admiring Will from afar. Her normal.
Will chuckled nervously when he said, “Yeah. Lots to do.”
“We were just about to head out for lunch,” her mother said. “Want to join us, William?”
Stella wished he’d say yes, but she knew better.
Will gave her mom the sweetest grin. It made Stella’s heart dance. “Lunch with Nana. But I’ll catch you at the party later?” he asked Cam.
“See ya,” Cam said.
Her brother and his best friend shook hands, and that turned into a back-slapping hug. And there she was blushing as if she weren’t seventeen and ready to take over Oak Hills High the second her brother was gone. She blamed it on the power of the Will factor. Get her within a meter of him, and her mind went kaput.
Even as her mother steered her toward the car, with Cam leading the way, Stella’s eyes followed Will until the crowd swallowed him up as if he were Poseidon returning to the sea. She really needed to move on from her childhood crush. Especially when it was pretty obvious it was going nowhere.
She sighed long and hard. Then she pulled out the elastics holding her braids in place. She ran her fingers through the soft strands, allowing them to lie flat on her shoulders. With Cam leaving for baseball camp in a week, it was time for a makeover. When her senior year started, Stella would walk the halls of Oak Hills High a brand-new person. Free to date whomever she wanted without Meatwad and Master Shake getting in the way.
ONE
INKY FINGERS
Will stared at the panel for his online comic until his vision blurred. The dorm room he lived in smelled of old sweaty socks, distracting him. No. That wasn’t the whole truth. He just couldn’t capture the image in his head, and it was frustrating the shit out of him. His summer hiatus was over. It was time for a new chapter. And, yet, nada. Zilch. His brain was empty.
Two hundred e-mails in his in-box impatiently asked for the next installment of The Adventures of Morla the Witch Hunter. And that was just in the last twenty-four hours. More came in daily. He was drop
ping the ball. Big-time.
Emotions moving from frustrated to pissed, Will closed his ink-stained hand over the sheet filled with half-hearted scribbles. He crumpled the subpar panel, obliterating the story line in one go. Then he rubbed his tired eyes. The fatigue from being up all night clung to his shoulders. His mind was stuck like a mammoth in tar.
He glanced up at the clock. His first class wasn’t until two in the afternoon. He had four hours to bang out a page, ink it, scan, and post before he had to go. Getting a shower in there might be stretching it. At least he’d change his shirt. That would hide most of the funk. He hoped.
Sitting back in his chair and tilting his head to face the ceiling, he envisioned his MC. Morla was a badass witch hunter. She had long, black hair that trailed behind her when she ran from the Nosferatu Coven. She was tall and long-limbed, possessing an agility that helped her kill the Ifrit sent to eliminate her by the Mother Supreme. The skintight leather suit she wore emphasized the richness of her brown skin, which glistened in the sun when she had to strip down to her underwear to swim away from the vicious water sprites. Her full lips were always smirking, like she knew more than she let on, enabling her to defeat the rogue warlock terrorizing the southern village of Lapsa. But her best feature was her intensely brown eyes, as rich as the earth she walked upon. They could stare into someone’s soul and determine if that person was a witch.
In the last panel he had posted before he participated in a graphic design workshop hosted by the Design Media Arts department at UCLA, Will left Morla in quite a pickle. A bind. The most precarious situation. Basically, he was screwed. She had been poisoned by a dark witch and left for dead after she had fallen down a gully. It was the best scene he had written so far. His readers gobbled it up. The e-mails had been crazy. Readers wanted more.
Will cursed his insidious brain for abusing Morla in this way. She lay on her back at the bottom of the gully in pain. The poison slowly worked its way through her system, eating every cell in her body. How the hell was she getting out of this one?
The Boyfriend Bracket Page 1
