by Anne Eliot
Charlie grunted and fell to the floor.
She landed in a dizzy, triumphant heap on his back.
“Sadly, these are my children. Vere, Charlie, meet Dustin McHugh. Dustin is—he’s Nan’s nephew. And he’s moving here. Isn’t that nice, kids?” Her mom’s tone had changed to Mary-Poppins-bright as she continued, “And Dustin is our project. He will start school with you on Tuesday after the three-day weekend. He’s going to need our help getting adjusted.”
Charlie, still face down, groaned, “I’m the one who needs adjusting. Vere almost killed me. Severed my spine with her bony knees. Get off. Someone call an ambulance.”
Vere dug her knee deep into Charlie’s back as she clambered off her brother and teetered into a chair. “Whoa. Dizzy,” she mumbled.
The new kid laughed.
She shot at him a look and their gazes met. This time, Vere didn’t lose focus. He took off his sunglasses and Vere had to bite back a gasp. The guy’s eyes were such a blinding bright-blue they disoriented her.
She felt the back of her neck tingle.
Jeez. Not good looking. Try drop-dead gorgeous.
Before she could get a second glimpse, he’d turned away and pulled down the brim of his baseball cap.
She stayed seated and made an effort to control the tingle that was rapidly spreading from her neck to her cheeks, but continued to eye Dustin curiously.
Nan stood, blocking her view as she helped the whining, Charlie to his feet and then leaned down to hug Vere. “You two always make me smile,” Nan said, before she turned to address her nephew. “Vere and Charlie will kick this unmaking plan into gear. They’ll be great friends for you, too.”
“Really. Well then. It’s nice to meet them, I suppose,” he said, crossing his arms in front of him and ducking even lower into his cap.
Vere went on alert.
His voice had been super-soft. Low. She had the sensation the guy sounded like he was way older than they were; but that wasn’t what had caused Vere to pause.
He’d sounded...bored.
And possibly sarcastic. Disdainful?
Or...was he sort of pissed off?
She peered around Nan, hoping for another sneak peek at the guy’s face, but he was still slouched, arms crossed, hiding in his hat. She also had the odd sensation the kid wanted to curl up into a ball and hide?
What the heck?
“Not to raise a flag too early here, Aunt Nan, but these two just might need their own unmaking. Or, makeover. Look at them.” He flicked a glance at Vere. “They don’t seem capable of helping me.”
Vere shot her mom a what-does-that-mean look, but her mom wasn’t paying Vere any attention. Instead, she was signaling Nan with some type of strange sign language, and they both looked beyond nervous.
Something’s up. Major.
Charlie wandered over to the kid using his man-to-man challenge swagger. Vere figured her brother hadn’t liked the kid’s last comment or the tone of his voice, either.
“I guess it’s nice to meet you too,” Charlie said, layering on his own sarcastic tone.
The kid stood and shook Charlie’s offered hand. He’d moved with smooth, athletic grace and looked to be about two inches taller than Charlie’s six feet.
“We have a few things to tell you,” Vere’s mom jumped in.
“You mean they don’t know? They have no clue? I was told they were fully ramped in,” Dustin said. He’d backed away from Charlie. She thought she’d seen a fleeting glimpse of panic cross his features before he’d shuttered his eyes.
Charlie followed him, not giving the guy an inch.
Dustin went on, “This is ridiculous. Aunt Nan, Mrs. Roth, no offense, but I don’t want to do this. Not with—them. Not at all.”
“You have no choice,” Nan said gently.
“In on what?” Vere scowled. “Do what?”
Dustin might be tall and gorgeous—and the nephew of a woman the whole family loved—but this kid was now acting like a definite weirdo. She was about to address the fact that he might also be an ass, but her brother didn’t give her a chance.
He let out a low whistle followed with: “OH. MY. GOD! YOU’RE—YOU’RE—YOU’RE—OH-NO-SHIT!! DUDE! HOLY CRAP! DUUUUDE.”
Charlie then launched into a stream of screeching, unintelligible babbling and random cursing.
Vere could only stare as she watched Charlie jump up and down like a squawking chicken.
He ended with: “Holy crap. Holy crap! Dude. Dude. DUDE! OHMYGOD DUUDE. I’M DYING HERE. WHAT-THE-FAAK-IS GOING ON?”
Vere’s chin hit the floor.
She rocketed Charlie a questioning glance, before looking at Dustin to gauge his reaction to her brother’s freak-out. But Dustin seemed to have no reaction at all.
None! Zero.
He simply stood there straight faced. Looking at Charlie as if he were some annoying, screeching insect.
“I’m just wow. WOW. This is so damn cool. HOLY SHIT.”
“Charlie. Watch your mouth!” Their mom yelled finally.
“Let us explain,” Nan added.
Vere turned back to stare at Dustin.
His ultra-bright, blue gaze had burned toward her as though he waited for her to do something off the wall as well.
It was then she saw the expression cross his face again.
Yep. Absolute panic!
What is wrong with this kid?
“Oh. My. God.” Charlie started up again. “OH. My. GOD!”
What is wrong with my idiot brother?
“This is the absolute coolest thing ever! No. Shit! No Shiiiiit! Dude! So amazing!”
Dustin took off his cap and ran his hand through his hair. Nice, thick, wavy hair. His mask dropped again and she caught his shoulders slumping a little. He looked almost deflated—and somewhat sad?
Vere darted a glance at Nan. She looked sad too.
And her Mom looked as if she might faint!
Poor Dustin McHugh.
Poor Mom and Nan.
They must think the worst.
She and Charlie had been so rude: arguing, yelling, wrestling and now Charlie’s lost it?
Vere had to fix it before they both got busted.
She was not going to lose car privileges the first week of school. Even if this Dustin McHugh might be some sort of a sad, strange—jerk.
Time to re-start the politeness.
Vere checked her bun and forced herself to walk over to Dustin. A major flush put heat on her face.
So what? It’s not as if I can change the color of my cheeks. I’ll just get this over with.
Her ear tips burned as she went for it. “It’s—nice to meet you, Dustin. I’ll be happy to show you around our school. Whatever you and Nan think you need. I know we seem unreliable, but we’re not. We can help you. Honest.” She added what she hoped was an encouraging nod.
Unfortunately, that move had the bun bobbing all over the place on top of her head. Hoping it would hold, she held out a shaky hand and slapped on her friendliest smile, as she looked up at this Dustin McHugh’s face.
Way up.
And choked on her own eyesight.
This guy is beyond, over the top, stunning! Like a live model. A model with no pores and really long lashes, and a sexy, pouty-man-mouth. And broad shoulders with nice biceps. And he’s really tan. And...and...the eyes...wow.
Seriously. Wow.
She swallowed.
Whatever! The kid was so gorgeous he was abnormal.
If she weren’t biting on her top lip to keep the blush under control, her jaw would have gaped open wide as she took in his perfectly, square chin.
Cheekbones and muscles and...are boys allowed to be this beautiful?
Her hand wobbled in front of him like a rubber chicken.
His eyes scanned her bun then her face, before he stepped away as though she’d burned him. That same flash of panic shot through his gaze before he cringed.
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. He totally cringed. He did!
Vere shoved her hand behind her back. She wanted to die. If she had any remaining doubts that she wasn’t complete boy poison, they’d all just been instantly erased by this guy’s response to her.
I repel all guys. Now I have proof. PROOF.
Wait till Jenna hears. Maybe I need a different deodorant?
She ran her tongue over her teeth.
Or toothpaste?
“Vere—you dork!” Charlie dissolved into fits of laughter. “She’s clueless. She has no idea who you are!”
“What do you mean? Have I met you before? I don’t think so...” She scowled at Dustin, then Charlie.
“Charlie. Take it easy,” Nan said.
Vere’s afternoon headache returned full force.
She’d thought the day couldn’t get worse. At least Nan’s nephew had evened out the rude points for their mom by blatantly not shaking her hand in front of everyone. And one better, Mr. Pretty had managed to make her too angry to blush. Her firing cheeks, neck, and red hot ears faded back to fine.
Because I’m not bothered one bit by handsome, rude boys.
“Seriously, Mom, Nan, can you please explain?” Charlie asked.
Vere crossed her arms. “Yeah,” she added, making sure she sounded cranky and annoyed, like her time was being wasted.
Because it was.
I should be upstairs calling Jenna to tell her that Curtis talked to Charlie about me. I’ve got things to do!
She caught Dustin’s gaze and glowered bullets into him, reminding herself again that she was not at all affected by his looks or hurt by what he did. If he pulled creepy elevator-eyes like Curtis had done this afternoon, she would not hold back the punches. Curtis could look all he wanted, but this guy did not have any staring rights.
Just try it buster. Go ahead. Try it.
She intensified her glare.
She checked her bun from slipping, but refused to break his gaze. “You can quit staring at me any time,” she hiss-whispered.
“It’s you—staring at me,” he answered quietly, as though he totally understood exactly how beautiful he was.
“I am not! I don’t stare at guys. What are you? Crazy?”
His dark, arched, brows shot up as though she’d surprised him. “Truth? It’s possible that I am.”
“Well join the club and get in line then.” She rolled her eyes calling his bluff. “Our whole family is nuts, if you haven’t figured that out already.”
One side of his lip twisted up into a small smile. “You’re still staring.”
“You are,” she sassed back.
Feeling like a fool and a liar, she stared harder.
It was a standoff now, and she was determined to win.
She scrunched her brows and added a frown.
He cracked a small smile.
“Hilarious! Vere, you really don’t recognize him?” Charlie’s voice, holding at ten decibels louder than normal, was getting really annoying. Charlie turned and hollered again. “Dude. You rock! I have all your tracks on my iPod.”
Tracks? Tracks?
“I’m glad to know you’re a fan,” the guy responded woodenly, sounding as though he were on some strange autopilot. His gaze never wavered from skeptical and held Vere’s fast.
Vere tried to match Dustin’s expression as a taunt, but that backfired. For some reason, her attempts to mock him had made him smile wider.
She tripled her glower.
He tripled the smile.
“Vere.” Charlie stepped between them, breaking the stare down. “He’s Hunter Kennedy,” Charlie yelled again. “The Hunter Kennedy. Lead singer of GuardeRobe. DUH! And he’s in Monument, Colorado.” He turned to Hunter and got way too close to the guy’s face. “Holy Crap! Hunter Kennedy! Dude, you’re in our living room! Is the rest of the band here, too?”
Charlie looked around the room like a madman, still going on, “This is impossible. Nan, how can you be Hunter Kennedy’s aunt? Did we all WIN something? Is this for MTV? Where are the cameras hiding?”
Vere frowned and peered around Charlie as she tried to place the guy in front of her as the blond, clean-cut, boy-band singer she’d seen a few times on TV.
Charlie had a poster of GuardeRobe, but she honestly didn’t recognize this kid as the blond, guitar-holding, pimped out guy on Charlie’s closet door.
When he’d had that panicked look earlier, it had made him seem so real, but Hunter Kennedy wasn’t a real person. Was he?
Not in her world.
“This is not a TV show, Charlie.” Nan shook her head. “I’m Hunter’s great aunt. I don’t tell people about him. Too many odd requests for favors,” she added.
“He doesn’t even look like Hunter Kennedy.” Vere turned to back to him. “You don’t, you know? Do you? Are you really him?”
“Apparently not anymore,” he answered, sounding very cynical again. “You’re only supposed to know me as Dustin McHugh. So it should be easy to forget the famous part about me right away. Because that’s the goal here. Let’s try again. Say it with me: Nice to meet you, Dustin McHugh.”
His sarcasm had returned full force.
“Okay.” Vere crossed her arms and tried her best to copy his annoying, sarcastic mouth twist and ultra-low voice.
“Nice to meet you, Dustin McHugh. Happy?”
“Truth? Happier than I was a few minutes ago,” he answered, smiling. “Because you’ve been cracking me up.”
“Great.” She rolled her eyes.
It was then Vere realized she’d been talking to this guy minus all her usual stuttering and general color-changing weirdness. Somehow she’d managed to keep her anxiety in check. But how? Because he’d made her angry? By imagining she was talking to the poster in Charlie’s room?
Because this whole situation is so ridiculously strange?
“Why is it you’re here, and not with your band?” she went for another question, testing the situation—her reactions to him.
“And why do you need us all to use a fake name?” Charlie added. “Is that why your hair is brown?”
“I’m—I need—” He broke Vere’s gaze and looked at Nan.
Nan nodded. “Tell them,” she encouraged.
He crossed to the other side of the room but kept his back to them. The silence stretched as his hands moved lightly over the family photos lining the top of their upright piano. “I got into some trouble in Los Angeles. My mom thinks I need to be here...for a rest. She and my agent think I can’t do that well if people and reporters are swarming me as Hunter Kennedy.”
He turned back to face them. The look in his eyes seemed so bleak it made her heart clench. Vere sensed he wasn’t lying—but he also seemed to be hiding some of the truth.
Hunter went on, “They decided I could hang in Colorado best if I could be sort of—unmade. You know, completely disguised? Aunt Nan can’t coordinate the home-schooling and tutoring I’d need, so I’ll be attending your high school until they let me come home. Which should be soon. I think.”
His bright blue gaze found hers again.
God. But the color of his eyes is unreal. Completely. Not. Real.
This time, she thought she saw pure desolation hiding in there. Her heart twisted again and erased any new urges blush. Despite his fame, and his beautiful face, he seemed so sad.
He continued in a chipper voice that did not match what she saw in his eyes,“So, yeah. You two are also supposed to drive me around and hang out with me so I blend in better.”
“You’ve offered us to do what?!” Charlie interrupted. “Dammit Mom! It’s cool to meet this guy and all, but we’ve got real lives to live here and—”
“No. Stop. Not one more word out of your potty-mouth, young man. You have pushed me to my limit!” Mom took Charlie’s arm into her death-grip. She and Nan dragged him out into the hall. “Hunter, Vere, we will be right back.”
Charlie was going down. Way down.
9: gnomes and tumbleweeds
HUNTER
“You’re stari
ng again,” she said finally, but this time her voice seemed forced. Tight, as though she suddenly had to struggle to speak to him now that they were alone together.
Worse, she was dead on.
He had been staring. Mostly at her lips. He liked the way she chewed the upper one off and on.
“Fine. I’ll own it. You caught me. Sorry,” Hunter said, but kept staring, despite her obvious discomfort.
Hell.
He couldn’t stop staring at this girl. Not since she’d entered the room spinning around on her brother’s back. Right now, it would be impossible for him to look away because his words had caused her to blush again.
Up close, the effect turned her lightly freckled, apple-round cheeks—not to mention practically every inch of her skin—a fascinating pink. It had also made her large, dark brown eyes seem deeper, luminous.
Girl was cute with that pink face.
“Would you stop?” She shifted her feet.
He went for honesty again. “I’ll try but, your cheeks! Makes you look like a little gnome.”
His comment caused her to glare again.
He’d never been glared down by a girl before. Not counting his mom, of course, but this girl was obviously way more charming than his mom.
He couldn’t resist teasing her again. “It’s that—you—are just so interesting to watch.”
He choked back a laugh when she turned even redder.
Her eyes positively snapped with that one.
“Back at you, boy-band-freak. You’re the one who came from another planet, not me. But don’t wait for me to swoon at your feet. If this is your attempt at flirting, you won’t make much progress with the girls around here.”
“Ooh. Claws,” he teased back, laughing.
Instead of the added pink effect Hunter had been hoping for, the color went the other way.
The blushing thing seemed to fade in and out.
Out—when annoyed.
In—every other second.
Funny.
Mrs. Roth and Nan marched back in with Charlie. “Hunter—er—Dustin, we have the driving thing settled. Consider these two your willing chauffeurs. A direct order, not a statement.
Hunter shot an apologetic glance at Charlie. The guy’s tight expression tagged him as beyond unwilling to participate in any of his unmaking crap. Hunter got that it might be awkward for Charlie at school to have a new guy hanging around his senior year. Either way, Mrs. Roth must have threatened something huge to make him comply with such a straight face.
