The Tomboy & The Movie Star
A Jackson High Novel
M.L. Collins
The Tomboy & The Movie Star
Copyright © 2020 M.L. Collins
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, businesses, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Editing by K&T Editing
Cover Design by NPTB Creatives
Made in the United States of America
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This one’s for the tomboys, the misfits, the girls who don’t “fit in.”
The girls who dare to be different.
#GirlMechanics #GirlsWhoWorkOnCars #FemaleMechanic #BlueCollar #CarGirl #TechSchool
This book is also dedicated to my father who passed away while I was writing this book. I was blessed with a wonderful Dad. The laughter and unconditional love he gave me are the bedrock I’ve built my life on.
I love you, Dad.
Contents
Prologue
1. Who Wouldn’t Want to Be Me?
2. “Cool Kid” Squared
3. Diabolically Delicious
4. I Might Have Killed Our Engine
5. Just a Regular Teenager
6. Who Are You?
7. Getting “Jumped” by the Awkward Nerd
8. An Alien Abduction?
9. That’s NOT Fair!
10. Did I Do the Right Thing?
11. Not a Date
12. I’ll Tell You, But You Can’t Laugh
13. Oh, But You Will, Grasshopper
14. Where the Magic Happens
15. Polka Music & Cheesy Tots For The Win!
16. “Adorable” is Not in the Tomboy Code of Conduct
17. Exactly Like a Hero
18. A Loss & A Win
19. Let’s Do This
20. What Happened in There?
21. A Definite Spoon Emergency
22. She Doesn’t Know She’s Dating a Movie Star?
23. Girl Time
24. Who Wrote This Script?
25. An Intervention
26. Grant, Earl, Tammi & Marvin
Epilogue
The Jackson High Series
A Note From M.L.
Huge Heartfelt Thanks To…
About the Author
Prologue
Kingsly Grant
Have you ever had a jolt of intuition that you must do something, or else?
“This is Caitlyn Reed from WJSA reporting from the halls of Jackson High School. We’re here getting reactions from students about the news that Hollywood’s biggest teen heartthrob might film his next big blockbuster hit here.” The reporter held a microphone in front of a group of giggling girls. “How do you feel about the possibility of Kingsly Grant coming to Jackson High to make his next movie?”
“OhmygoshOhmygoshOhmygosh! I’m pretty sure I’ll faint if I see Kingsly Grant walking through the halls.” The girl squealed into the microphone. “He’s soooo hot!”
“Eeek! Then he could give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!” A girl standing next to her said. “I’m totally going to faint too.”
“Me too!” Another girl grabbed the microphone. “You have to pick our school, King! We love you!”
The reporter proceeded to interview more female students, all of whom were over-the-top excited about the idea.
“See what we mean, King? The publicity during the selection process for the filming location is already through the roof.” Frank, my agent since I’d started in this business at the age of eight, nodded across the table. “Donna, the idea of letting King pick the school was genius.”
“I agree,” I said. “But they don’t call Donna the queen of publicity for nothing.”
Donna snorted and rolled her eyes. “Focus, King. Just a few more minutes of video. This is the last school.”
“Right.” I turned back to the laptop on the conference table. The director and his team had scouted out Texas and narrowed it down to three high schools to shoot my next movie. All I had to do was pick one.
“We’ve heard from the girls—so how about a guy’s reaction? Let’s see what the guys in auto shop class think.” The polished reporter with a perfect smile crouched down next to a car with the lower half of a guy’s oil stained, coverall-clad body sticking out from underneath. “Excuse me, what are your thoughts on the news?”
The reporter stuck the microphone under the car, picking up an exasperated sigh before the student rolled out from under the car and sat up.
“Ma’am, I’m sort of busy here, so…”
“Oh! You’re a girl.” The reporter blinked a few times.
I wasn’t talking about some woo-woo sixth sense, ESP, clairvoyance deal. I wasn’t even sure what the “or else” was. But there was this gut feeling that if I didn’t do this thing, I may miss out on something important. Something I may never get the chance at again.
“A girl? Ha! That’s debatable!” Some guy yelled from off camera.
The girl shrugged one casual shoulder but her hands went white-knuckled around the wrench she held.
“So, I guess you’re excited about the news.” The reporter shifted the microphone back in front of the girl.
“What news?” The girl brushed a loose curl of chestnut hair from her cheek, leaving a streak of grease behind. “If you’re about to tell me the school board is finally going to fund more vocational training in schools, then yes. Very excited.”
“Oh, no. I was referring to the news about Kingsly Grant.” Ms. Reed flashed the girl a wide smile.
“Who’s Kingsly Grant?”
“Did she just say, ‘Who’s Kingsly Grant?’?” my agent asked, totally stupefied that there was one teenage girl on the planet who didn’t know me.
The reporter looked as surprised as Frank.
“Uh… He’s the hottest young actor in Hollywood right now.” The reporter’s smile had gone stiff and she darted her gaze around probably trying to find someone else who’d give her the response she was looking for.
“Oh, right. I think my friend Lacey made me go see one of his movies,” the girl said, not looking very excited about me or my movie.
The reporter frowned but plowed on. “Is it exciting to think he may choose your school to film his next movie?”
“Exciting?” She shrugged, her gaze shifting to the undercarriage of the car as if impatient to get back to work before moving back to the reporter. “Why? Pretty sure he puts his perfectly faded, over-priced designer jeans on the same as everyone else.”
“She’s right about that,” I said, grinning.
Some guy moved into the camera shot.
“I told you. She’s not a real girl. Move aside, Bernard.” The dude pushed the flat wheeled dolly the girl sat on out of the camera range with his foot. I caught her eye roll just as she wheeled from sight. “We’re stoked about King coming to our school. He’s awesome. A movie star right here at Jackson? That’s awesome.”
I’d only had this spark of intuition happen two other times in my life. Sure, I was only eighteen, but those two times when I acted o
n my intuition were life-changing. In the best way. I guess what I’m saying is I was ninety-nine percent sure I was going to act on this hunch.
“Okay, I’ve seen enough.” I hit the escape key to exit the video and closed the laptop. “How much time do I have to decide? I’m on vacation for the next four weeks. Can I let you know when I get back?”
“About that… The studio wants you to do another PR tour. They’re aiming for a box office surge over spring break. Are you sure you can’t postpone your vacation? Or cut it short to squeeze in some appearances?”
“I did the two-month press junket. Twenty cities, four countries, smiled my way through every interview and didn’t turn a single one down.” I shoved a hand through my hair and let out a breath. “It was grueling, Frank, you know that. I need this time off.”
“Okay. I hear you.” Frank pushed some paperwork across the desk. “Here’s the revised script for you to read. Also, Alison is still not pleased you won’t let her go on vacation with you.”
“Ha! I bet.” Alison was my personal trainer. She was the sweetest person—until she got in the gym. Then she turned into Hollywood’s version of a drill sergeant. She was hard-core about working out, which was why I was ripped. But I wasn’t planning on working out on vacation. “Please tell me she didn’t give you a workout schedule to give me.”
“Sorry, kid.” Frank grinned as he pushed across the newest high-tech workout watch with a note. “She’s pre-loaded four weeks of workouts.”
“Let me guess… Alison will be tracking my workouts.”
I told you she was hard-core. Which was why I paid her. She was the best. Only, I had a plan for something different for the next few weeks. But I’d figure out a work-around for the app.
“You know it.” Frank pushed across another sheet of paper. “Here’s your meal plan from Stu.”
My nutritionist. Right. I wouldn’t need that either, but I took it anyway.
“You know,” I looked around the table at my team with a grin. “It’s almost like you’re all going to be right there with me on my vacation. I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.”
“Ha! Well, we love you, kid,” Donna said.
I knew they did. I wasn’t just a paycheck to them. I mean, I was that too. Big ones. But my parents made sure the people on my team were good people. Professionals who cared more than just about the bottom line. They did love me and I loved them right back.
Which was why I felt a little guilty about my plans.
“I still need the details of where you’ll be,” Frank said, ready with a pen to jot it down.
“Not this time. Seriously, I’ll be off the grid for four weeks.” I needed this time away. For a few reasons. The least of which was that it would be my first vacation in over three years.
“What if something happens?” Frank frowned. “Or what if Ridley calls with an offer? You killed it at the audition.”
“If it’s an actual emergency, you can reach me through my parents. Anything else can wait.” I narrowed my gaze at my agent. “We both know they’re still auditioning for that role.”
“It was worth a try,” Frank said. “I don’t like the idea of not being able to get a hold of you. We haven’t been out of communication since the day I signed you.”
“I know.” Which was why I needed this. I needed time to not be Kingsly Grant. Don’t get me wrong. I loved my life. I worked hard to get where I was and I loved it. But still…these next four weeks were going to be important. I wasn’t even sure exactly why yet. Let’s just say, I had a gut feeling.
1
Who Wouldn’t Want to Be Me?
Bernadette “Bernie” Jewell
Who wouldn’t want to be me right now? My dad was gone (for four months). My mom was gone (forever). I had two grandmas who professed to love me, yet one kept betting against me (literally), and the other didn’t get me (at all).
It was only seven in the morning and I’d already killed the microwave which involved a small fire and our kitchen extinguisher (luckily close by).
Let me just say, it’s easier to kill a microwave than I thought. Not that I’d thought about it much, but still…easy. I was running late for school (not normal) so I was rushing and managed to fry the microwave trying to heat up water for instant oatmeal when I forgot about the metallic rim of paint on my #girlmechanic mug. Hey, I was tired, okay? And who puts metallic paint on mugs anyway?
So now I was on breakfast attempt #2: heating leftover pizza up in a cast iron pan as I negotiated with my grandma (the betting one).
“Please, Gigi,” I begged into my phone tucked between my ear and shoulder while I flipped the pizza around with a fork. “Please come. It’s your turn.”
“It is, but your grandma Lolli asked to trade.”
“Ugh. You know why, don’t you?”
“I do.” I was pretty sure I heard my grandma snicker.
“Why would you encourage her?” I loved both my grandmothers, but like I said, Lolli just didn’t get me.
“Sweetie, she loves you. And…she misses your mama. So be patient with her, Bernie. And if it helps, between you and Lolli, my money’s on you.”
To be clear, my grandma Gigi was not speaking metaphorically. I sighed. “How much did you bet this time?”
“Only twenty bucks,” she said, pausing a few seconds before adding, “Times four.”
“Are you kidding?” I grabbed the handle of the pan only to pull my hand away quickly. “Ouch! Dang it, that hurts.”
“What hurts?” Gigi asked.
“Nothing.” I shut the burner off and shuffled over to the sink, sticking my burned hand under a stream of cool water with a sigh. The water ran over my palm, easing the pain down to a dull throb.
“Did you burn yourself again? I swear, Bernie, you’re safer handling a welding torch in the garage than attempting anything in the kitchen.”
This was true.
“I’m fine. It’s barely pink,” I said. Shutting off the water, I gently patted my palm dry with a paper towel. It was definitely tender. And an angry pink shade. Good thing it was my left hand.
“Is it blistering?”
“No. Back to the betting… All my brothers are betting against me?” I narrowed my eyes, already thinking about how I would get back at them. It would be harder since none of them lived at home anymore, but not impossible. Where there’s a will there’s a way.
“Well, they’re brothers, so what did you expect?” Gigi said, definite laughter in her voice. Yes, she encouraged them too, dang it. “Fair warning…that’s not the only bet we’ve got going on you.”
“What else? Obviously, there’s still the boyfriend bet.” They’d placed bets last year on when I’d have a boyfriend. I wasn’t anti-boyfriend. Between four older brothers and all of their friends, I’d grown up around a lot of boys. I’d tagged along behind my brothers and been treated like one of the guys when they were short a player for whatever pickup game they were playing.
It will not come as a surprise that I wasn’t the girliest of girls. Most guys didn’t even notice that I was a girl. And I had no idea how to attract a guy. Not that I was trying. In other words, no one was winning the boyfriend bet anytime soon.
My dad said when the right guy came along, he’d think I was beautiful no matter what I look like. He didn’t mean that as an insult. He’s a typical dad who thinks his daughter is beautiful. Of course, he also thought I looked like my mom—which I totally didn’t see. I’d guess what he really meant was he was perfectly fine with not having to deal with guys dating his only daughter.
“Yes, the boyfriend bet. There’s also money riding on when you’re going to punch Todd Black in the face and when you’ll give in and let Lacey give you a makeover.”
“Well, never, never and never.” I slid my backpack on one shoulder, grabbed the slice of pizza from the pan (very carefully!), my keys off the counter and left the house through the side kitchen door, locking it behind me. “I hope you bet wisely, Gigi.”
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“Eh. Maybe,” she said. “How was your dad this morning?”
“Other than the fact that he tried to sneak out before I could say goodbye, fine.” I sucked in a breath over our four-a.m. hug, opened my car door and tossed my backpack onto the passenger seat before sliding behind the steering wheel. My dad had a serious thing about goodbyes. “Luckily, I’m onto his tricks and I set my alarm an hour earlier than he said.”
“Good for you. Hang in there, Bernie. The four months will fly by,” Gigi said. “I’m only a phone call away.”
“Ha! Says the grandma ignoring her only granddaughter’s S.O.S. on the phone right now.” I took a bite of pizza as I turned my key in the ignition, wincing when the engine didn’t fire up right away. I knew my car was getting close to needing a new battery, but I’d been hoping it would last until my next paycheck. I tried again, feeding it more gas until it finally caught.
“I’m not ignoring you. Sometimes, you’ve got to live through an experience in order to learn life’s greatest lessons.”
“Bye, Gigi. If you aren’t going to save me, I’ve got to get to school.”
“Your grandma Lolli and I both love you. Never forget that. Now go set the world on fire.”
That one I figured she meant metaphorically, but honestly, with my grandma Gigi, sometimes you just never knew.
Twenty minutes later as I sat in first period waiting for class to start, I was wishing I could set Todd Black’s pants on fire. The bet on when I’d punch him in the face was in definite peril.
The Tomboy & The Movie Star: A Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 3) Page 1
