Brooke Bait
Page 3
Because that explains it—why Blake had looked at me all full of longing today. It wasn’t because she was longing for me. She was longing for Julia.
(Sadness!)
CHAPTER 11
***RENEE***
When I get home from being a chauffeur to my brother, there is a message on my answering machine asking if I’ll babysit some kid I’ve never heard of on Saturday night. I’d decline, only there is no number on the caller-ID, and the person—‘Mrs. Needs’—didn’t leave a number either, just an address and a time. The address is the fancy hotel across town. The lady, Mrs. Needs, said I was referred to her, and she is in “dire” need of a babysitter as she is from out of town and doesn’t know another soul to ask.
So, I guess I’m stuck being the soul.
“Fine,” I sigh. (To no one.)
After all, I don’t have to work this Saturday night at the restaurant anyway. Might as well make some extra cash. After all, it won’t really be “extra.” We are always in need of cash. Our tiny house is paid for, plus we inherited a duplex that I rent out for extra income. But still, we’re what you’d call desperate and … poor.
So … fine. I’ll babysit.
Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.
Though really, I should get someone to “babysit” my brother, Jason. I mean, he’s too old for that, but ever since he turned fourteen he’s become a handful. He’s never been anything but sweet … until lately. It’s his new friends.
I can tell they are going to get him into trouble.
Even now—at this very moment—his friend, Ethan, eyes me like he’s planning something yucky in his hormonal brain.
A chill goes down my spine.
I want to get my sweet little brother away from that boy, and even more desperately I want to get away from him. I want him out of our lives. Now.
“Hey, Ethan, Jason left already to mow my neighbor’s lawn, didn’t he?” I ask pointedly.
Ethan’s eyes flicker, like he knows what I’m getting at—but he just thinks it’s funny. “Yeah, but he told me I could wait here for him.”
“Well, you can’t,” I tell him, then try to sound more diplomatic. Sort of. “I mean, I’m going to be making him dinner, and then he has homework.”
“Dinner sounds good,” Ethan says, like he thinks he’s going to eat here. Which he’s not.
“Then go on home and eat it,” I tell him.
He smirks. “I’d like to eat with you—more than Jason.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen,” I tell him, feeling sort of nervous. I mean, the kid is just a kid—but in a way he’s not. He’s a lot bigger than me.
… and not kid-like.
“Go home Ethan,” I tell him.
For a moment he eyes me like he’s thinking about telling me ‘no.’ But then he murmurs, “Aw,” and slowly leaves.
… but not before giving me one last not kid-like look.
It makes another chill go through my body, and makes me more than a little apprehensive to babysit for a stranger that I didn’t even get the option to refuse. I mean, how old is that kid?
I’m rethinking this whole babysitting thing.
I mean, some kids just aren’t kids. I don’t want to deal with it.
Only … um, right. Mrs. Needs didn’t leave a number.
I’m stuck.
CHAPTER 12
***RENEE***
Saturday when I show up at the hotel, it’s not a ‘Mrs. Needs’ that answers the door.
It’s Griffin Piper, from the hockey team.
Griffin Piper!
My jaw drops at the sight of him and his amused smile (which grows bigger on his handsome face from my shocked expression).
“You’re not Mrs. Needs,” I inform him.
“No,” he admits with a grin, “I’m Mr. Needs. And what I need is a girl to perk up my friend, Broken Blake. It’s her birthday today.”
“Oh,” I murmur, my heart twisting a little, though Griffin telling me I can “perk” Blake up isn’t exactly helping me get over the girl. In fact, it sends more tingles gushing through my body. (This is bad.)
“We’re having a party for her,” Griffin says. “But really, you’re the guest of honor. You’re the only reason we’ll get her to stay, I bet.” He grins, “You’re our Blake-Bait. I mean, once we get her here, which won’t be an easy feat—since we’re saving you for a surprise.”
I blink. “I’m a surprise?”
“The only one she’ll want,” Griffin says.
At the library the other day, Griffin told me that Blake stares at me with “starry-eyes” and has ever since she saw me in the play.
He had said, “When Blake saw you sing your solo in the play she looked so full of longing, me and the guys all practically started crying.” Griffin said that. Which was laughable, since the “guys” he was referring to are the biggest, toughest guys on the whole campus—the guys from the hockey team. Griffin grinned and raised his eyebrows as he added, “It was very dramatic.”
Griffin stares at me now, grinning mischievously once again (since this is Griffin—and he’s always grinning mischievously). He asks, “So, you’re going to babysit, right?”
I close my eyes, then clarify, “I’m supposed to be babysitting a little boy.”
Griffin’s lips twitch. “Face it, when it comes to you right now, Blake is like a little boy.”
“But she’s not a little boy—and I’m not up for a party.”
Griffin rubs the back of his neck, but he’s still grinning. “So, don’t think of it as a party—think of it as a job. Come on, you’re being paid to watch a poor little boy. We’re paying you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Who’s paying me?”
“The hockey team. Each and every guy has chipped in ten bucks—and believe me, some of us aren’t rich.”
That makes my heart pang a little. I’m aware Griffin’s situation isn’t much better than mine. Maybe it’s even worse than mine. He didn’t inherit a duplex to rent out.
Also, it tugs at my heart deeply that all the guys would chip in to get me here.
Only … what are they expecting me to do?
The thought makes me nervous. So does everything else about this. Blake had spent almost an entire year avoiding me. But … she gazes at me with “starry-eyes”???
My heart gets all fluttery at the thought.
I swallow. “I—I’m … not dressed for a party.”
I just came from swim practice. I have absolutely no make-up on, my hair is sopping wet, and I’m wearing dirty sweats that I’d cleaned out the garage in right before swim practice. (Come on! I’d expected to babysit a little boy—not a gorgeous hottie.)
Griffin eyes my outfit like he’s just realizing I’m a girl—and that we like to look nice. His eyebrows furrow and he rubs his jaw, like he hadn’t anticipated such a problem. He opens the door up wider for me, “Come in and we’ll see what we can do.”
Mason glances at me as Griffin explains the perplexing situation to him. Mason nods, like he gets it. (This is all pretty funny, since I clearly see it slowly, slowly dawn on them that yeah—I probably don’t want to be at a party with dripping hair and dirty sweats. But the concept totally isn’t there until it is brought to their attention. Then they are like: Huh.)
“I’ll call Summer,” Mason says. “She’ll know what to do.”
He glances at me, like to bestow reassurance. “She’s up on girlie stuff. She’ll make you beautiful beyond belief.”
“I’ll call Ally too,” Griffin says whimsically. “No one’s as pretty as Ally.”
Mason shoots him a you’re-crazy-buddy look. “Are you saying Ally is prettier than Summer?”
Griffin shrugs matter-of-factly. “Ally is prettier than everybody.”
Mason rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m going to let that slide, due to you being in love—so you’re blind. And delusional.”
Griffin quirks a grin. “No, your being in love has made you blind and delusional. Bu
t fine, call Summer to help her. Ally doesn’t wear much makeup, so probably won’t be able to give as helpful of advice about it. But just because she doesn’t wear as much as your girlfriend doesn’t mean anything except that I like Ally just the way she is. And I like to be able to kiss her whenever I want without getting a mouthful of whatever most girls coat on their lips. I just like to coat her lips with mine.”
Mason pauses, then gives him a withering look. “Okay, let’s stop talking about this before I puke. I’ll call Summer.”
“Fine,” Griffin says. “And I’ll call Ally. Just because I want to talk to her though—not because she’ll give makeup tips.” He glances at me, “However, she’ll give you piano lessons if you want them.”
I chuckle. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”
“Yeah. I’m just sayin.’” Griffin murmurs, “She plays the piano and sings like an angel.”
I smile, highly amused. “Griffin, I know Ally is awesome.”
“—though not a cheerleader,” Mason interjects. (Summer is a cheerleader.)
I grin over to Mason, adoring how much these tough guys adore their girlfriends. It’s sweet. “Yes, Mason,” I assure him. “I know Summer is awesome too.”
“And she’ll help you look awesome for the party,” Mason reassures me.
Then both guys start murmuring sweetly on the phone to their girlfriends.
Meanwhile, I’m totally stunned and left with butterflies dancing in my stomach—because these guys think I can “perk up” poor, sad Blake.
I have to keep reminding myself though: I just seem to suddenly be Blake’s “Julia Substitute.” That knowledge is a big ouch!
I mean, I long for Blake—but (sob!) she longs for Julia.
I’m just a substitute.
So this all kind of bites.
CHAPTER 13
Mason’s girlfriend Summer quickly came to the rescue. She showed up at the hotel quick as lightning with a slinky dress for me to wear and she did my hair and makeup like an expert.
Mason was right. She made me look beautiful beyond belief.
Griffin and Mason both admired her work with raised eyebrows.
“Wow,” Griffin said. “Bet ya Blake will actually smile tonight.”
“Well, first we have to get her here,” Mason reminded him, not sounding so sure that would happen.
Griffin grinned. “I have a plan.”
CHAPTER 14
***BLAKE***
Blake
It’s my birthday. The guys seem to think it’s important that I celebrate, but I disagree. Silently. I’m really not feeling it.
After hockey practice—which strangely, Griffin and Mason didn’t even show up for, which is beyond strange, because they live for hockey, and insisted we have a practice today—a Saturday.
… though I guess what they said was right: It was the only thing that got me to leave the house today.
But now all the guys are wanting me to go to some party with them.
“Yeah, I’ll meet you there,” I lie.
Then when I have a moment alone, which is hard to find except in the locker room, I quickly (quietly) order a pizza, figuring it will get to my house right around the time I get home. I plan to eat my pizza and dream about a certain girl …
That’s my big plan for the night—dreaming. And definitely no party.
But my plans get knocked out the window when something is thrown over my head …
What the—?!
CHAPTER 15
***RENEE***
Renee
It turns out Blake’s teammates kidnapped Blake to get her to come to their party. Literally kidnapped her. After hockey practice (which Griffin and Mason missed—due to setting up for the surprise party.) As Blake was quietly ordering a pizza after leaving the locker room, expecting it to get to her house about the time she got home—no. The guys nabbed her out in the parking lot. They put a pillowcase over her head and stuffed her into the back seat of Jake Myer’s car. Then they sped to the hotel with an angry Blake spewing out cuss words.
When they get her to the hotel, she’s raging mad. Until she sees me.
Her lips part slightly as she stares at me, kind of seeming in awe. Her gaze slowly flickers from my eyes to my lips to my sexy dress, then slowly, slowly back to my eyes.
She murmurs to Griffin, “Thanks.”
Her eyes stay on me as she says it. Hungrily drinking me in.
I have to tell you, Summer did a fantastic job fixing me up. Blake’s eyes say so. They clearly say I’m beautiful. Though I guess to Blake they say I look like Julia. (Mason and Griffin tried to get Summer to bring a long blond wig for me to wear.) (She refused.)
“That is too twisted,” Summer had said. “We want Blake to heal—not turn into a psycho.”
Anyway, Blake doesn’t seem to mind the non-wig thing.
Since the moment she saw me across the room she’s just stared into my eyes, not saying anything, though everyone is trying to get her attention.
Her lips formed an O when she first saw me at the party. They part now slightly as her eyes stay glued on me.
“Happy Birthday,” Griffin tells her with a grin. He winks at me, like: Told you so.
Then he texts me: “Total Blake-Bait.”
CHAPTER 16
***RENEE***
Renee
The party wasn’t in the hotel room where I first encountered Griffin (aka: Mrs. Needs). It was in one of the hotel’s restaurant/recreation rooms that Blake’s teammates rented for the night. Every single person that came to the party chipped in to pay for the room. (And there were a LOT of people at the party.) (Tons!!) The hockey players are treated like royalty at our school. They basically rule the campus. Plus, Blake is yummy, and now every curious girl at our school’s steamy fantasy, since before she became (unwillingly) single, they were all jealous of Julia and longed to be her—to be Blake’s desire. And now, suddenly, it seemed that it might be possible. Plus, Blake had that sad, lost puppy-dog thing going for her. It was driving half of the girls at our school wild.
So, yes, though they all had to pay (big time), the party was packed with girls.
Yet Blake’s eyes stayed on me.
Only me.
CHAPTER 17
***RENEE***
Renee
Blake’s stare had me on fire as she gazed at me through the crowded party. But I kept reminding myself—she wants me to be another girl!
Apparently, that’s why I’m here—at the party. The only reason.
Griffin and Mason want me to be ‘Substitute Julia’ for her … once again remembering that hurts. Too much.
I slink out of the birthday crowd. I watch Blake’s brow lower as I do it. See her frown slightly from her watchful distance, but she’s mobbed with a crowd of adoring fans wishing her a happy birthday. They surround her, flock her.
So, she can’t get to me—can’t make me her Julia.
But I can’t bring myself to leave—not yet.
It’s her birthday. Besides, I was hired to do a job. Griffin and Mason are counting on me, and beautiful Summer worked so hard to make me look like this—this person that stopped Blake’s heart. Made her say “thank you” to Griffin after she had been so mad. Made her dark eyes spark and stare and say “Happy birthday to me.”
I really want her to have a happy birthday. I do. I just don’t want to be tortured in the process.
Instead of racing out the door as I’d planned, I sit at a booth. Try to breathe and get composure. But then Blake silently slides into my booth across the table from me. Her watchful presence sure doesn’t give me composure, at all. Far from it.
My heart pounds so hard, because her eyes are on me so longing.
I swallow and try to get a grip. Remind myself she is aching and yearning: but it is for another girl. I squirm in my seat aching too—because I know her hungry eyes want me to be someone else. I’m getting paid to let her fantasize I am that someone else.
Ouch, ouch, OUCH!
So, with that pep-talk swimming in my tortured mind, I attempt to do it—stay … and cheer her up—even if I can’t do what she longs for me to do, be a different girl.
I swallow and peek into her longing, thirsty eyes. I clear my throat, a little dizzy from her stare. But come on, she wants me to be a different girl. So get a grip, Renee!
Since there is no way I can possibly be what she wants—Julia—instead I clear my throat again and try to give her clarity, a connection between us—me and her. I whisper, “My father, the person I loved dearly died in a car crash, and the person you loved died in one too.”
Slowly Blake nods. Huskily she murmurs, “Death—yeah, there seems to be a lot of that going around.”
I bite my lip, wishing so much I could be what she wants.
Blake silently stares at me. “You look sad,” she murmurs.
“My boyfriend broke up with me,” I lie, since I can’t tell her the truth.
(Okay, okay I might have let a few rumors spread that I had a steady boyfriend. I did it immediately after Philip and I broke up. It had just been because I didn’t want to go to parties, or get hit on so much. It seemed easier (and kinder) to the boys that asked me out to just say I had a boyfriend. But lately (shock) everyone seemed to be getting suspicious that I was lying about the guy, since they’d always see me places alone, but never with the guy I was supposedly tight with. So, I just recently started telling people that we broke up and I “just didn’t like to talk about it.” People understood that, and were even sympathetic about it, so … yeah, I’m lame.
I feel weird telling the lie to Blake. Still, it slides out of my mouth because it’s the only thing I can think of to say for a reason I’m sad. I mean, I can’t tell her the truth. That I’m sad that she wants me as a Julia substitute—and sad that it’s not me she wants. So, well, it just comes out, “My boyfriend broke up with me.”