I rubbed a hand over my face at the thought of the groveling I’d have to do. The sweet-talking I’d have to throw at her to convince her to help me out.
It was humiliating. This whole thing was humiliating, but the fact that I had to beg a girl like her to pretend to like me?
For the millionth time, I cursed my luck for kissing the one loser at Briarwood who hated my guts.
No one would believe it. That I would like her?
No one would believe it. At least since the Christmas Eve party was formal, she couldn’t possibly show up looking like a time traveler. Right?
A Christmas party, maybe a few appearances together at another party or two, and then I’d tell Eleanor and the others that I’d gotten tired of Lola and that would be it.
The ruse would end and Eleanor would be mine.
Or she and my friends would have me committed for losing my mind and dating a certifiable nutjob after letting the girl of my dreams slip through my fingers.
I rubbed at my eyes and groaned. It was no use rethinking my plan now. I’d all but signed my social death warrant by kissing that freak. The only thing I could do now was try to make the best of the situation.
It was a plan. Not a good plan, but it could work…If I could convince Lola.
If money wasn’t what she was after, I’d find out what she needed.
Everyone needed something, right? I mean, other than money and popularity. I just couldn’t imagine what…
I leaned forward again, impatient for a glimpse of her.
Maybe she wasn’t coming. My worst suspicions were confirmed when that freakin’ clown came into my room.
I couldn’t get him to leave until he’d finished making a terrible balloon animal.
Wonderful. Now I was stuck with a blue…snake? What the hell was this supposed to be? And I was no closer to having a date for the party.
I tried to watch TV but found myself dozing off instead out of sheer boredom. When the door to my room opened, I was jarred awake and found myself staring at the newcomer with a racing heart and a mind utterly stunned.
Lola.
For a second there my brain refused to catch up, and I just sat there staring like I’d never seen a girl before.
And maybe I never had.
I’d definitely never seen one like this before.
She was beautiful.
Well, she was weird. But weirdly beautiful. Her hair was done in those bizarre curls, her glasses were perched on her nose as she stared at me with wide eyes, and her dress was of the vintage variety that had earned her Blake’s nickname, retro girl. But it suited her.
Dark and polka-dotted, the dress came in at her waist and flared at her hips and made me wonder what exactly was underneath. It had a V-neck top that left just enough exposed to make my mouth go dry.
And then there were her lips. They were red again—she seemed to have a thing for red lipstick. But today they were the red of ripe berries, and they were begging to be tasted.
Oh hell. What was I doing?
“What are you staring at?” She asked it at the same time that I finally came to my senses.
“Sorry,” I said, forcing my gaze away and giving my head a little shake to clear it.
I’d had a plan. I’d been ready for her today.
So why was my brain not working?
I should never have let myself doze off. I’d dropped my guard.
I forced my gaze back to the girl standing before me and eyed her outfit again, but this time attempting to use logic instead of whatever reptilian part of me had woken up first. She wasn’t here as a volunteer, that much was clear. “What are you doing here?”
She didn’t answer right away. She seemed to be studying me the same way I’d done to her. I normally didn’t mind girls staring. I was used to it. But right now, I felt weirdly vulnerable. Maybe because I’d just been asleep, or maybe because I was lying in a bed while she stood there all strong and mighty.
Either way, I got the distinctly bizarre impression that she was seeing right through me. She was judging every corner of my soul and I’d come up lacking.
When her gaze met mine, she wasn’t wearing a determinedly cheerful smile like she had yesterday. But she did look determined. “I’ve been thinking,” she said slowly. “About your offer.”
Hope had me sitting up straighter. “Yeah?”
She snapped her mouth shut.
When she didn’t continue, I guessed. “You want the money?”
She furrowed her brows.
That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Maybe I should just stop speaking.
She seemed to have the same thought because she waited patiently, giving me a teacherly stare of disdain that said Are you through?
I tried to look meek and subdued, not exactly my forte.
Eventually she sighed. “I’ve been thinking about what you can do for me in return.”
I shifted on the bed. Uh oh. I didn’t like the way she was procrastinating. “Hit me.”
“I need someone to go to a dance club with me.”
I stared at her some more. I think I was expecting…anything else, really. I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at the image of me and this weirdo getting down on the dance floor of some underage club. “You want what?”
Her cheeks turned pink but her voice was strong and determined as she spelled it out for me.
Swing dancing.
What the hell? I had a vague vision of guys in fedoras and girls doing flips in the air.
I stared at her for a moment. “You want me to dance with you?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. I just need a ride and a…” She cleared her throat. “I just need a ride.”
And someone at her side. She didn’t outright say it, but I could read between the lines. So, the great loner who didn’t care what anyone thought needed backup. That tugged at my insides in a weird way. A protective impulse nagged at me and it would not be denied.
So rather than tease her about it—about any of it—I shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”
She blinked a few times. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I said again.
She fidgeted slightly, and I guessed she hadn’t expected that to go so easily. “Okay.”
After a brief, awkward silence she met my gaze once more. “Also, I need you to meet my mom.”
I thought she’d speak more but she didn’t. “Yeah, all right,” I said.
Once more she looked perturbed by the fact that I wasn’t fighting her on this. Or maybe just that I wasn’t being a dick. I hadn’t exactly been on my best behavior the last two times we’d interacted. In my defense, I was stuck in a hospital for the better part of winter break. I wasn’t exactly in the best of moods.
“And in return,” I said slowly, not wanting to ruin this little truce we had going. “You’ll come to the Christmas Eve party as my date, and let people believe that we’re actually…dating.” I had a hard time getting out the word, and it didn’t help that she flinched when I said it.
But she gave a stiff nod. “It won’t be forever, right? I mean, school starts up in a little over a week and—”
“And we’ll end this fake relationship as soon as humanly possible,” I said. It was possible I said it with a little too much relish—I couldn’t wait to have this particular humiliation over and done with.
But Lola only nodded in agreement, so I assumed I hadn’t offended her.
Speaking of humiliation…here was where I had to be tactful, or risk losing this tentative agreement altogether. I cleared my throat. “This party…”
She arched her brows in question.
I eyed her outfit. “It’s, uh…it’s a formal event.”
She blinked. “Okay.” And then I saw it register, and she got the funniest little impish grin. “Worried I’m going to embarrass you, Lucas?”
I grinned despite myself, because her grin really was pretty cute. “Just don’t want you to mistake this for a costume party, Lola.”
&nb
sp; She laughed, thank God, and some of the tension in the room seemed to ebb away. In a funny voice, she murmured under her breath, “Brad, don’t be ungrateful.”
“Brad?” I repeated, even though it was clear she was having a private joke with herself and most likely at my expense.
“It’s from Rocky Horror Picture Show,” she said, as if that explained anything. “I’m guessing you’ve never seen it.”
I nodded. “I’ll add it to the list.”
She frowned, her expression wary like she was waiting for me to mock her.
In my defense, I wasn’t about to. I’d honestly been making a list.
“What list?” she hedged.
“Misery, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” I ticked off the two she and her grandfather had mentioned the other day. “And now Rocky Horror…something or other. Making a list of all the movies I need to catch up on now that I’ve got no sports on the agenda for a while.” I nodded toward my hurt shoulder and she arched her brows so high her glasses slid down her nose and she had to push them up with her pointer finger. “You’re not serious.”
I was. “I am.”
She blinked a few times as though she had to adjust her vision, and then she gave a little shake of her head. “You are an odd duck, Lucas.”
“Is that from another movie?” I shot back.
She grinned and the sight was heartbreakingly beautiful. When she was genuinely smiling—not giving me that weird grimace that said she was going to pretend to be happy no matter how much of a dick I was—she was really quite pretty.
She had a great smile. Terrible taste in fashion, but a phenomenal smile.
“Not another movie,” she said. “Just stating the facts.” She pointed a finger in my direction but her tone was teasing. “You, my friend, are an odd duck.”
“Says the girl who’s blackmailing me into a dance-off,” I said drily.
She sighed. “It’s not a dance-off it’s…you know what? Never mind.”
With a roll of her eyes, she started to empty out the contents of her oversized purse. She tossed a few paperbacks on my bed and I paused to marvel at how she’d fit them all in a purse. What else was in there? But then I realized she was starting to pack it up again and she was heading out.
“What’s this?” I asked.
She looked at them and then to me like it was obvious. “I figured you’d be going crazy with boredom by now.”
I stared at her, waiting for the punchline. But this was no joke. She’d brought me…books. No one ever brought me books. Actually, the number of visitors I’d had at all had been depressingly low. Hospital visits would have been Eleanor’s domain as my girlfriend but I supposed that kiss had ruined my chances of any more drop-ins from my ex.
I sifted through them. Sci-fi, mainly, and one that looked like a spy thriller or something. “Thank you.” It came out all stilted and weird.
“I didn’t know what you liked.” She sounded defensive.
Between the two of us, this had become a ridiculously awkward exchange. I glanced up and saw her hovering, eyeing the door like she was awaiting escape.
Well, this would not do. Girls didn’t run away from me, and a girl who was hooking up with me—even if only hypothetically—definitely shouldn’t act this horrified by my very presence in the room.
Granted, I had been a jackass that first day she’d come in here, and yesterday had been no better. Being nice wasn’t really my thing. I was already popular, I didn’t have to win people over. They just…liked me.
She took a half step toward the door, looking like she might bolt.
But I supposed I could try. How hard could it be to charm a freakish weirdo?
“Wait,” I said.
She froze, toying with the strap of her purse. “Yes?”
“Where are you going?”
She eyed me like I’d lost my mind. “I’m leaving.”
Right. Obviously. I cleared my throat. “Don’t you think we should hang out a bit? Get to know each other?”
She blinked a few times. I got the sense that I was speaking a foreign language and she was struggling to decipher. “Why?”
I couldn’t help a little huff of amusement at that. Why indeed? It wasn’t like we were friends. It wasn’t like we ever could be friends.
“Because we should probably be capable of being in the same room with one another before going to a party together, don’t you think?”
She pursed her lips but then she nodded, all seriousness. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.”
Even saying that though, she eyed the door like she was seeking salvation.
“Did you have big plans?” I joked.
She shrugged. “I was going to go hang out with my Grandpa.”
Ah. I had nothing to say to that. “Well, maybe another time—”
At the same time, though, she said, “Do you want to join us?”
We both went quiet and Lola turned beet red at the intense awkwardness of the moment. ”Never mind,” she muttered. “Of course you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” I was already hoisting myself to the edge, surprised myself by how eager I was to go hang out with a weirdo and an old man I hardly knew. “Sounds fun.”
Amazing what “fun” looked like when you’ve been trapped in a hospital room for days on end.
She was eyeing me like I was a lunatic who’d escaped the psych ward, but she didn’t protest as I slipped on a robe and headed toward her.
“What do you and Grandpa have planned?” I asked.
She shrugged, falling into step beside me on what might be the weirdest date known to man. “Probably just play some cards. Maybe watch a movie if there’s one on TV.”
“Great,” I said with only partially feigned enthusiasm. “Maybe we can make some headway on that list.”
“Oh Lucas.” She said my name on a sigh and I found myself battling another strange, completely uncalled-for case of lust for this oddball girl whose weird strappy heels clicked on the floor beside me. When she glanced up at me, it was a sidelong look that was filled with mischief and it made the air between us feel thick. “Those three movies are the least of your worries. Something tells me you need a remedial course in Film 101 and you need it stat.”
I held up a hand in mock surrender. “Hey, it’s not my fault I have a life. Not all of us have time to sit alone in the dark and geek out over old movies.”
Luckily she took my teasing for what it was and she didn’t get all offended. She just rolled her eyes, her lips twitching as though she was trying not to smile.
I found myself staring at her lips, willing her to lose the battle. Willing her smile to come back. I wanted to see that smile again, and I wanted it bad.
Even weirder, I wanted to hear her sigh my name again in the worst way.
Chapter Six
Lola
If my grandfather thought it was odd that my bratty patient from the other day was now in his room playing rummy with us and making comments about the old musical on TV, he didn’t let on.
He acted like I always brought guys to hang out with him. Like it was every other day that I hung out with the quarterback and taught him how to play rummy.
Apparently he’d played once or twice way back when because it only took a brief refresher for him to catch on and soon he was just as competitive about it as me or Grandpa.
Which was good, because we would’ve kicked him out of the game if he didn’t take it seriously.
Grandpa and I took our cards very seriously. Movies? Just as much so. But we weren’t snobs about films. I liked the silly pop classics just as much as the epic, award-winning films.
And yes, I had a special place in my heart for Gene Kelly, as my grandfather well knew, which was why he’d stopped flipping the channels when he saw that An American in Paris was on.
“I just don’t get why they keep bursting into song,” Lucas said, although it was obvious by this point that he was just trying to rile me and I refused to give him the
satisfaction.
“I told you,” I said sweetly. “It’s a musical. It’s not supposed to make sense.”
“If people did that in real life, they’d be locked up in an insane asylum.”
“Or they’d annoy everyone around them until they were murdered,” my grandfather added.
I rolled my eyes because yes, they had a point. “That’s why it’s not real life,” I said slowly, with exaggerated patience. “It’s a movie.”
Lucas met my gaze and his eyes were filled with challenge and something else. Something energizing and different. It was playful and mischievous and…sexy.
No, not sexy. I was so not attracted to dumb jocks who conformed to societal norms.
Even if they were excessively handsome.
No. Nope. No way.
Still, this new playfulness in Lucas was impossible to ignore and it was…captivating. That was a better word for it. Not sexy, just mesmerizing. It made my stomach do the kind of nervous butterfly thing that normally only happened before a dance competition.
Now I was starting to understand why all the girls at Briarwood had a crush on this guy.
And I could only imagine how crushed they’d be to learn that he’d moved on to someone who was not Eleanor…and who was also not them.
Because he was with me.
The thought made me catch my breath and I put a hand over my belly in a vain attempt to calm the sea of churning emotions.
Not really, though. Obviously. I mean, this was all just for show, and it would end as soon as humanly possible. I discarded and leaned back in my seat.
And then I’d just be known as that girl who was a rebound for the hottie quarterback. Was that better or worse than my current reputation as the weird loner freak?
I studied my cards as I mulled over the ramifications of what I’d just signed up for.
I guess it didn’t really make much of a difference either way. It wasn’t like I cared about what anyone at that school thought of me anyway.
I’d be making friends soon enough, but not at school. Once I made some friends at the dance club, I could leave Lucas and his world far behind.
The Candy Cane Kiss: Briarwood High Series Page 6
