Meet Your Match (No Match for Love)

by Lindzee Armstrong

  Luke scooted his chair next to Brooke’s, figuring it was okay if it was for homework, and for the next twenty minutes he helped her with advanced algebra.

  When the five minute warning bell rang, they packed up their belongings. “Thanks for helping me,” Brooke said as they walked toward English. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Luke looked away. “It would’ve taken me hours to get that much done on my own.”

  “No problem.”

  A hand clapped on his shoulder. “Dude, did I see you come out of the library?”

  Luke’s shoulders tensed. But he remembered what Brooke had said about owning his intelligence. “Yeah, so what?”

  Chris laughed, walking alongside him. “What the heck were you doing there?”

  “He was helping me with math homework,” Brooke said.

  Luke winced. He didn’t want to own his intelligence that much.

  “Wow. I didn’t know you could do math,” Chris said in mock astonishment.

  “He’s really good at it,” Brooke said.

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” Luke said.

  They all slid into their desks. Chris leaned over to Luke and whispered so Brooke wouldn’t hear. “Helping the girl with homework? That’s a dirty trick.”

  “I’m done with that,” Luke whispered back. “She doesn’t need us chasing her like she’s a Super Bowl championship ring.”

  Chris frowned. “What is going on with you, man? Are you two like friends now or something?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Now that is the slickest move of all.”

  “Lay off, Chris. I’m asking you as a friend—she’s off limits.”

  “Nothing is off limits, Ryder. Especially not her.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Over the next few weeks, life fell into a comfortable rhythm for Brooke. She and Luke were friendly with each other, if not exactly friends outside of school hours. He continued to flirt, but had toned it down significantly. She was learning that he just had a flirtatious personality. She hated what it did to her. The butterflies, the sweaty palms, the racing heart—what was that about, anyway? Sure, Luke was good looking. And it turned out he was pretty nice too. But now wasn’t the time to be attracted to someone. Luke seemed to have kept the secret of her parents’ impending divorce, and he was no longer tormenting her, so Brooke decided to be satisfied with that and push all the other feelings away.

  As for her parents, there had been less shouted phone conversations as of late. Brooke didn’t know if that meant therapy was working, or if it meant they were running out of things to yell about. She wasn’t sure which she wanted. On the one hand, a broken family was far from ideal. On the other hand, she didn’t know if she could ever trust her father again.

  He’d continuously apologized for ditching her at Denny’s. Brooke didn’t believe his emergency crown excuse, but she didn’t want to get into it with him either, so she let it go. He’d tried to get together with her again a few times in the weeks since, but she kept dodging his attempts.

  Halloween dawned unusually warm, even for San Diego. As Brooke walked into the school in her jeans and t-shirt, her eyes were assaulted by mini-skirts and cat ears. Brooke rolled her eyes and pushed past a gaggle of slutty nurses to her locker.

  “Not your holiday, huh?”

  Brooke looked up. Luke leaned casually against the lockers. He wore tight jeans, cuffed at the ankles, and a white t-shirt that stretched tight across his chest. His hair was heavily gelled. Brooke’s cheeks heated, and she looked away.

  “What are you supposed to be?” Brooke asked.

  Luke drew back as though offended. “I’m obviously Danny. You know, from the movie Grease?” He pulled a comb out of his back pocket and ran it through his hair dramatically. Brooke’s heart flipped. “Too warm for the leather jacket right now.”

  Brooke laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Right. How did I not catch that?”

  Zoey bounded up next to them. “Does that make Brooke your Sandy?”

  Luke grinned. “Only if she wants to be.”

  I do. Oh, I do. “Thanks, but dressing up isn’t really my thing.”

  “C’mon, it’s fun.” Zoey wore fishnet stockings, a mini skirt, and a tight corset that bordered on not dress-code approved. Her hair was pulled back in typical pinup girl style, slicked into place with curls on each side of her face. She looked gorgeous and sexy all at once. Guys were tripping all over themselves, but Luke’s eyes hadn’t lingered on her. Why? Zoey was exactly the kind of girl Brooke imagined Luke would go for, yet he’d never made a move.

  Brooke pulled her books out of her locker and shut it. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves.”

  Luke fell into step beside them as they walked toward class. “There’s a Halloween party tonight,” he said. “At Chris’s. His parents are loaded so there will be lots of good food. You coming?”

  “Of course we’re coming.” Zoey linked her arm through Brooke’s. “Someone’s got to show her the reason for the season.”

  “That’s Christmas,” Brooke said.

  “And you’re boring,” Zoey said. “What time?”

  “Starts at eight. I’ll text you directions,” Luke said.

  “Don’t I get a say in this?” Brooke asked.

  An arm slid around her shoulder. Chris. Brooke quickly shook him off.

  “A say in what?” Chris asked.

  “We’re trying to get Brooke to come to your party,” Luke said.

  Chris grinned. “Excellent.”

  “We’re going, Brooke. End of story.” Zoey waved and veered off down the hallway toward her first class.

  Brooke stewed about the party all day. It wasn’t just that she wasn’t a fan of parties. She also wasn’t a fan of being told what to do. She didn’t like to give up control.

  Enough of my choices have been taken away from me lately.

  Brooke turned into the apartment complex after school, her mind still consumed with the party. Maybe she could fake a headache. She pulled into her usual parking space and got out of the car.

  That’s when she saw him. She froze and dropped the car keys to the blacktop in surprise. He leaned against his silver Mercedes, obviously waiting for her. She quickly scooped up her keys. Her dad walked across the parking lot toward her.

  Why is he here? What does he want? She wanted to simultaneously run into his arms and scream at him to go away. He’d obviously changed after work, since he wore Dockers and a polo shirt instead of his typical green scrubs. His graying hair was slicked back, like he was going somewhere important.

  He held out his arms, and Brooke couldn’t stop herself from walking into them. He folded her into his embrace and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing the clock to rewind time. He smelled like peppermint and fluoride treatments, just like always. She wanted so badly to view him as Dad again, and not as the person who had ruined their family.

  It doesn’t have to be this way, she thought as he kissed the top of her head. He made a mistake, but we all make mistakes. I don’t have to keep pushing him away.

  He pulled back. “Mind if we take a walk? I’ve already spoken with your mother, so she knows where you are.”

  “Okay,” Brooke said.

  Her dad took the backpack from her shoulder. “Unlock the trunk and we’ll leave this here.”

  “I can run it up to the apartment real quick.”

  He took the keys from her hand. “This is quicker.”

  Brooke shrugged. After he handed her back the keys, she motioned to the concrete path around the apartments and they started walking. Trees lined the trail, shading it and dropping their leaves so that Brooke’s footsteps crunched.

  “You look good,” her dad said. “Your hair’s grown. I noticed that at Denny’s.”

  “Yeah, a lot can happen in five months.”

  He sighed, running a hand through his own hair. “Communication goes both ways, Sugar Bee. It’s not for lack of me trying.”

  “I’d be more willin
g to communicate if you weren’t so flaky.”

  “I guess I deserved that.” Dad cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better. Your mom said school’s going well and you’ve made new friends.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Brooke peered up at her dad. “How are things with you and Mom? It’s been quieter lately.”

  He sighed. “That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about.” He motioned to a bench along the trail and they sat down. “Brooke, your mother and I aren’t getting back together. We’re filing the divorce papers as soon as we can get all the particulars ironed out.”

  Brooke sucked in a breath and blinked rapidly. She’d known it was coming. But she hadn’t realized how much the finality would sting. She leaned forward, staring at her toes and trying to breathe evenly.

  “Brooke?”

  She felt his hand on her back, concerned and comforting. She rose. “What happened?”

  Her dad looked away. “Shandi’s pregnant. She told me a few weeks ago. I knew your mother would never take me back now. I’ve done a lot of soul searching, and I feel like I owe it to the baby to give Shandi and me a shot.”

  Fire ignited in Brooke’s chest. “Mom shouldn’t take you back after that. How far along is Shandi, Dad?”

  “Brooke—”

  “How far?”

  He looked away. “About two months.”

  The fist tightened around her heart. She hated having her suspicions confirmed. I will never forgive him for this. “So while you and mom have been going to counseling and remediation, you’ve still been sleeping with Shandi.”

  He stood. “Sugar Bee, can we please—”

  “Don’t call me that.” She held a hand up and backed away. “I can’t believe you would do this to Mom. To me. Shandi’s young enough to be your daughter. It’s disgusting.”

  He held up both hands. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “It’s not just Mom you’re going to lose then. It’s me.” Brooke turned her back and walked away.

  He grabbed her arm, but she shrugged him off.

  “You made your choice, Dad. These are the consequences.”

  “Brooke.” His voice broke, but she ignored him and started running. He didn’t try to follow her, and Brooke wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or hurt. She ran three miles, until the tree-lined sidewalk covered in leaves turned into sand. Waves rippled across the water, calm and frustratingly at odds with how she felt inside. Where was a good storm when she needed one? Brooke’s feet shifted on the uneven surface, her shoes filling with sand, but she didn’t care. She kept running.

  Shandi. The twenty-year-old home-wrecker.

  Pregnant.

  A half-sibling. Would it be a boy or girl?

  Brooke pushed herself harder. Her ankle twisted in the sand and she barely stopped herself from falling. Did she even want to get to know the baby? Did she want to have a sibling who was only half her blood relation?

  Her phone buzzed and she slowed to a jog, panting.

  R u ok? It was from Mom.

  Brooke quickly texted back. I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll be home late. She couldn’t handle her mom’s pain when her own was so raw.

  Brooke continued to decrease her pace until she was at a slow walk. She watched the waves crash into the beach, let the roar fill her ears until it felt like the scream she wouldn’t let escape. Seagulls squawked near a family of three munching on hot dogs.

  That’s not us anymore, Brooke realized. It was no longer the three of them. Now it was her and Mom on one side and Dad, Shandi, and Baby on the other.

  Did she want to be part of that other equation?

  Her phone buzzed. Brooke swiped her finger across the screen, expecting a demand from her mom to return home. Instead, it was Zoey.

  You are not getting out of this party. Where are you?

  Brooke glanced at the time—7:07. She couldn’t believe it was that late. She’d left her dad, what, two hours ago? Three?

  She’d fully intended on blowing off Zoey, Luke, and the party. But suddenly, Brooke wanted to be around people. She wanted to laugh and dance and forget about stupid Shandi and stupid Dad.

  At the city beach, Brooke quickly replied. Can you pick me up? She texted a few landmarks to help Zoey know what she was near, then turned and headed towards the street.

  Be there soon.

  Brooke stuck her phone in her pocket and found a bench to wait on. Children in Halloween costumes filled the streets as they trick-or-treated from store to store, collecting candy from smiling employees while adoring parents watched. In a few years, that would be Brooke’s little sister, or maybe a little brother. Would she go with her dad and Shandi when they took the child trick-or-treating, or would she still be bitter and insist on staying home?

  A car pulled up to the curb, and Zoey waved. Brooke pushed herself up from the bench and climbed into the passenger side. A car honked at them for stopping in the middle of the parking lot, and Zoey quickly drove off.

  “What were you doing at the beach?” Zoey asked. She flicked a glance at Brooke. “You’re wearing that to the party?”

  Brooke shrugged. “I was running.”

  “In jeans? Hey, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” Brooke forced a smile. “Just excited to party.”

  “Well, you can’t go like that. We’ll stop at my house first. You seriously need a costume.”

  “Sounds great. I really need to be someone else tonight.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Chris’s home rivaled a haunted house for Halloween spirit. Luke walked past tombstones and skeletons rising out of coffins in the front yard. Strobe lights created shadows in the windows, and ghoulish music played outside. He didn’t knock, just opened the front door. Music thrummed through the wood floor—not the ghoulish stuff, but real Top 40 tunes—and made his bones vibrate.

  “Hey, Luke.” One of the cheerleaders sidled up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug, pressing herself against him. He could only assume from her skimpy costume that she was dressed as a pole dancer. Or maybe a stripper mid-act.

  “Hey, Tammy.” Luke disentangled himself from her embrace. Normally he would’ve hugged her back, maybe even encouraged her, but he was worried Brooke would show up and think they were a couple or something. “Have you seen Chris?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  “Thanks.”

  Luke pushed through the crowd of costumed teenagers. The kitchen counter overflowed with food, and a large black cauldron spewed smoke—probably root beer. Chris’s parents were cool, but not stupid enough to serve alcohol to minors. They made themselves scarce at these events, but still seemed to know everything that went on.

  “Hey, man. Or should I call you Danny?” Chris cackled, and the two bumped fists.

  “Great party,” Luke said.

  “I think even more people are here than last year.”

  “Yeah. Speaking of people, have you seen Brooke?” Luke scanned the crowd again, but no way would Brooke show up dressed like any of these people.

  Chris raised an eyebrow. “Still trying, huh? You should give it up and admit defeat. She’s into me and you know it.”

  Luke snorted. “If by ‘into you’ you mean ‘can’t stand you.’”

  “She’s coming to my party, isn’t she?”

  “Even if she does show up—a pretty big if—who’s to say she’s here because of you?”

  “Boys, boys,” Zoey said.

  Luke and Chris both turned. Zoey and Brooke stood in the doorway. In the absence of school dress code, Zoey had changed into a midriff-baring shirt and shorter mini that fit the more traditional pinup girl look.

  Brooke was dressed as a doctor. And not even a slutty one. Not that Luke was surprised. Baggy green scrub top, an over-sized white doctor coat, a white surgical mask hanging around her neck. “Let me guess. A surgeon,” Luke said.

  Brooke crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Zoey said I had to dres
s up, and I wouldn’t wear any of her costumes, so we had to raid her mom’s closet. She’s an obstetrician.”

  Luke scratched his head. “A what?”

  Zoey giggled. “You know, a baby doctor. A doctor who deals with, ahem, girl issues.”

  Luke reddened. “Right. I don’t think we’ll need anyone to deliver a baby tonight.”

  “Ha ha, aren’t you hilarious,” Brooke said. Someone bumped into her, causing the whole group to shift forward as the crowd swarmed around them.

  “Broo-ooke. You promised to have fun tonight, remember?” Zoey said.

  “Right.” Brooke unfolded her arms and rolled her neck from side to side. “I’m ready to have fun. Where’s the booze?”

  Luke’s eyes widened. Was she serious?

  Brooke laughed at his expression. “I’m joking. Sort of.”

  Okay, something had definitely happened. This wasn’t typical Brooke behavior.

  “Allow me to show you the fun. This way, ladies.” Chris took Brooke and Zoey by the arm, and they disappeared into the crowd. Luke followed them from the kitchen.

  Almost immediately, someone asked Brooke to dance. He tried to keep track of her, but it wasn’t easy. He caught her flirting with a senior, then saw her slow dance with a different guy. Luke sipped his root beer and glared. The way she tossed her head back to laugh, smiled too widely, danced suggestively … it wasn’t Brooke. What the heck was going on?

  “What are you doing, sitting here like a wallflower?” Tammy stood uncomfortably close, her arm brushing his. “C’mon, let’s dance.”

  “Can’t,” Luke said, his eyes still glued to Brooke.

  Tammy followed his gaze, then sighed loudly. “You need to stop obsessing. So she said no. There are lots of other girls who will say yes.” She squeezed his bicep. “Oh, I love this song.”

  Luke allowed her to drag him onto the dance floor. He kept his eyes trained on Brooke while half-heartedly swaying to the music. But then a group of kids danced through the middle of the living room, and when they’d moved out of his line of sight, Brooke was gone.

  “I’ve gotta go,” Luke muttered, pulling away from Tammy.