The Tomboy & The Movie Star: A Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 3)

by M. L. Collins

  I held them aloft and that was when I realized one of the metal teeth clamps was caught on my “Girl Mechanics have Dirty…Hands” T-shirt which I was now waving around right in front of Grant’s grinning face.

  “Nice Tee,” Grant said, adjusting his glasses as his smile widened.

  “Uh…thanks.” I unsnagged it, grabbed the rest of the books from Grant, and tossed everything back into the trunk before slamming it closed like I was hiding a dead body. Could I make this more awkward? Yes. Yes I could. Which was why I needed to stop acting weird around Grant. He was just being nice. It didn’t mean anything.

  I clenched my jaw before gritting out, “I’m ready.”

  Grant cleared his throat and held his hand out. “I’ll just… I mean, should I…”

  I stared at his hand, noticing how nice it was, you know, big and kind of athletic looking. I guess he was waiting for me to hand off the cables?

  “I’ve got it,” I said, moving around to the open hoods. In no time, I had the cables attached. (Both red clips to the positive terminals on each battery; one black clip to the negative terminal on Grant’s battery and the second black clip to an unpainted bolt in my engine for grounding.)

  Stepping back, I nodded over at Grant.

  He’d been watching me with arms crossed over his chest and one cocked eyebrow.

  “Do not tell me you’re impressed.” Yeah, we weren’t talking rocket science here.

  “Heck no. I know girls are just as capable as guys.” Grant shrugged. “But part of me still likes getting to play the hero for the few seconds a strong independent girl like you needs one. And I don’t mean that in some sexist way.”

  “Getting to play the hero?” He had swooped in and saved me from more of Todd’s derision. Was it fate? Or just proof of how bad my days were going lately? “How is that not sexist?”

  “Because… I’m more than happy to let you be my hero too.” He leaned down until his head was right next to mine and whispered, “I’d trust you to save me any day of the week.”

  I blinked up at him, my breath stuck somewhere between exhaling and inhaling. I was in some crazy confused place I’d never been. I might have stood there forever if Grant hadn’t turned me around and given me a gentle push toward my car.

  We both got behind the steering wheels of our vehicles. His gaze caught mine through our open side windows and with a nod he cranked his engine on, gunning it a little to speed up the process. After a few minutes, I started my car. It took two tries to get the engine running, but it started. It looked like the universe was going to let me escape without embarrassing myself in front of Grant again.

  “Who is that guy?” Lacey asked from the passenger seat, trying to look at Grant without staring.

  “Um, that’s the new guy in my auto shop class. I told you about him.”

  “You didn’t tell me he was adorable.”

  Grant exited his car and carefully disconnected the cables.

  She was right. I hadn’t told her. I guess I sort of tried not to think of Grant as a guy because every time I did I got flustered. It was a little weird having a guy do me a favor. Especially with my car. My dad had made sure I was self-reliant. I was used to being independent and handling this kind of thing on my own.

  Grant leaned around the hood and I gave him a quick wave of thanks when he called to me. His gaze was firmly on mine and he had that sweet smile again, the one that sort of distracted me whenever he sent it to me. Which seemed to be a lot.

  I couldn’t hear what he was saying over my running engine, so I quickly shut off my car.

  I stuck my head out my driver’s window. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  Grant ran a hand over his mouth and dropped his head down to look at his shoes. When he lifted his head, his laughing eyes latched onto mine as he walked to bend down next to my window. “I said you need to keep it running for twenty minutes to recharge your battery. But I forgot you know that.”

  Fish sticks. He was right. I knew that. I freaking knew that but like the biggest idiot ever… I turned my key and…nothing.

  I dropped my forehead to my steering wheel with a whimper.

  “It’s no big deal,” Grant said. “It’s just another chance to be a hero, right?”

  “Right.” I lifted my head from the steering wheel, pushed a few strands of hair off my face, and gave Grant a grateful nod while ignoring Lacey’s giggle. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “It’ll take one second.” Grant tapped his fist on my open window frame and moved back around, quickly reconnecting the cables to the appropriate terminals before sliding back behind his wheel and starting up his car. He revved it a few times, then glanced over at me. I nodded and started my car up for the second time.

  I jumped out and removed the cables from both vehicles, slamming the hoods closed. After sending Grant another wave of thanks, I hustled back into my car, put it into drive, and exited the parking lot with a huge sigh.

  “So that’s your new auto shop partner,” Lacey said.

  “Yep. That’s him. That’s my shop partner.” My voice was cool and matter of fact, but heat rushed over my cheeks. “The new guy. In my class.”

  “Oh my gosh!”

  “Oh my gosh what?” I threw her a quick glance.

  “You’re blushing!” Lacey said.

  “No. No I’m not.” I totally was.

  “Why Bernadette Jewell, since when have you had a thing for cute nerds?”

  “I don’t.” I remembered his brown eyes looking at me, warm and serious. And that crooked smile like we shared a joke together—in a good way. Sure, he was cute in that awkward nerdy way. And he seemed nice. He was taller than me. Dark brown eyes—so intense—surrounded by the most ridiculously long eyelashes.

  But it wasn’t even that. It was that he didn’t treat me like one of the guys. Or overlook me because I wasn’t…well, girly.

  “You don’t?” Lacey sounded doubtful.

  “I don’t. I think I have a thing for boys who actually see me.”

  8

  An Alien Abduction?

  Grant

  This was expected. Although I’d hoped the paparazzi could have gone more than a week before whipping up a frenzy over the lack of a King sighting. The good news was there was nothing about Texas in the tabloids, so I still might get my full four weeks. I made a mental note to focus on staying below the radar while attempting to suck all the marrow out of my normal high school teenager experience. At the top of my list: find a way to spend more time with Bernie. My clock was ticking down and every moment I spent with Bernie felt real and necessary.

  9

  That’s NOT Fair!

  Bernie

  I arrived at school early, so I had time to drop off my letter in the front office.

  “Here you go, Mrs. G.” I handed her the envelope. “Could you please see that—”

  “Principal Barstow gets it. You know I will, hon.” She grinned at me. “We’re all rooting for you, you know.”

  “Bernie!” Mrs. Loftus poked her head from her office, disappeared, and then waltzed out with a bright smile on her face. She handed me a crisp sheet of paper. “I printed this out for you. It’s a list of the available tech scholarships.”

  Guess what was at the top of the list? Yep, the Texas High School Automotive Technology Competition. Aaargh. Like I didn’t know about that one. Luckily, there were a few more I could check out.

  “Thank you for the list. I’ll look into it tonight.” I folded the paper in half and slid it into my backpack.

  “Just a heads up, the deadline for the state competition closes out tomorrow,” she said.

  “Yes ma’am.” It wasn’t a deadline I needed to worry about. Been there, done that as they say.

  After the office, I stopped at my locker to stash my lunch and then walked to shop class. Grant smiled at me from our table. I enjoyed Grant’s company. He was nice, smart, funny and didn’t treat me like one of the guys. Weird, right? When he looke
d at me—he just saw me—as I was. And he didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t like other girls. I loved that, but I also didn’t know what to do with it.

  Sometimes when he looked at me, a kaleidoscope of butterflies took off in my chest—fluttering so wildly it was hard to breathe.

  “Hey, Bernie.” He held out a package of Red Vines. “Want some licorice?”

  “Um, no thanks. Is that your breakfast?” Not that I was one to talk, since I usually ate Captain Crunch for breakfast when Lolli wasn’t around.

  “No. I had pancakes for breakfast and a muffin for second breakfast. The licorice is an early elevenses to tide me over until luncheon.”

  “Ah, you’re a hobbit. That explains so much. Except you are way too tall to be a hobbit.”

  His eyes went wide behind his glasses. “You know Lord of the Rings?”

  “I do. I’m a big LOTR fan. They’re my favorite books.”

  Grant put a hand over his heart. “Has anyone told you that you may be the perfect girl?”

  “What?” How in the world did he say that with a straight face? I darted a glance around, hoping no one else had heard that. I’d never hear the end of it if they had. Bernie Jewell, awkward tomboy, the perfect girl… Ha!

  Luckily, Mr. Miles walked in and started class, so I didn’t have to respond to Grant’s comment.

  “Pass your homework forward. Today everyone should be moving on to the brake system’s lab. If not, get moving.” He held up a stack of forms. “Don’t forget tomorrow is the last day to enter the state competition. Anyone need a form?”

  I kept my eyes focused on the grease stain on my desk that looked like a space alien eating a taco.

  “Moving on, let’s all congratulate Todd. He got a state inspection job at his garage.”

  “What?” My gaze jerked over to Todd who sat waiting for my reaction. “You’ve got to be kidding. When?”

  “Mike told me yesterday.” Todd’s face oozed into a smirk. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”

  “That’s not fair.” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud but I was angry and frustrated and feeling like once again—no matter what I did—I’d always be excluded from their boy’s club.

  “Fair? Ha! What’s not fair is forcing customers to let some diversity hire work on their car.”

  “Zip it, Mr. Black,” Mr. Miles warned.

  “Diversity hire? Who do you think you are?” I stood and stared Todd down. “You honestly think your Y chromosome makes you a better mechanic?”

  “Absolutely. I’d say feel free to prove me wrong—but you’re too chicken to enter this year’s competition. You’re afraid you’ll lose again.”

  I wanted to wipe the smug look off Todd’s face. I had to fight my urge to punch Todd in the face. Closing my eyes and counting to three, I heard Lacey’s voice in my head. You’re going to have to prove you’re just as good a technician as Todd. You’re going to have to enter the state competition again.

  She was right.

  “Mr. Miles, I’ll take a form.”

  “That’s the spirit. You’ll need a partner and a signed permission slip by tomorrow.”

  Right. A partner. Last year I’d competed with Lisa, only she’d graduated. I ran my gaze around the room. The number of guys trying to avoid my eyes didn’t bode well.

  “Steve? Do you want to partner with me for the competition?” He was a good wrench. Near the top of the class.

  “Can’t. I already signed up to partner with Todd.”

  Figured.

  “Sean?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “Joey?” I asked, but I already knew his answer. No guy in class was willing to cross Todd.

  Joey shook his head, but at least he looked guilty about it. Some people just couldn’t stand up to peer pressure.

  “I’ll do it,” Grant said, quieting the laughter and chatter in the class.

  I turned to Grant, staring into his sincere gaze remembering the times he’d almost killed our engine. Oh, man. Grant’s car knowledge was weak, but I didn’t have any other choice.

  “Thank you.” I nodded at him and then turned my gaze on Todd. “I’m in. And I will happily beat you and make you eat your words.”

  I was still fired up over Todd getting the inspection job at dinner that evening. Honestly, there was only one reason he got the job instead of me. And Lacey was right; I would have to prove I was as good a technician as Todd. After I beat him, I’d wave the first place certificate under their noses or hang it on the wall at the garage—so they couldn’t deny I was a good mechanic.

  “How was school?” Lolli asked as we finished her famous chicken pot pie.

  “Fine. I need you to sign a permission slip for me.” I grabbed the paper from my notebook on the counter and handed it to her. “It’s for the state competition in two weeks.”

  “Good for you, Bernie.” Lolli looked it over. “I’m happy to sign it…on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” An unsettled feeling descended down my spine.

  “If you enter the Miss Armadillo Pageant also.” She notched her chin up and pursed her lips. “And you must give the pageant a real effort. The pageant is a week after the tech competition, so it won’t interfere at all.”

  “That’s blackmail, Lolli.”

  “Well, I’m sorry about that, but that’s my condition,” Lolli said. “Take it or leave it.”

  Todd’s smirking face and bragging voice slithered through my head. Tension gathered in the pit of my stomach over getting passed over for a job I had earned. Yet, the pageant was a sure failure too. It was just that Lolli refused to accept that.

  I was entering one contest to prove being a girl wasn’t a handicap.

  I was entering another contest where proving I was girly enough could win a girl a crown.

  The irony was not lost on me. I was too girly and not girly enough. It was the story of my life. I didn’t fit in anywhere.

  I sucked in a deep breath and looked at Lolli. “I’ll take it.”

  10

  Did I Do the Right Thing?

  Grant

  Thursday morning

  “Do you think I did the right thing?”

  “It sounds like this guy Bernie needed help, so yes.” Mom slid the box of doughnuts I’d been eying across the counter to me.

  “Bernie is a girl.” I picked out a chocolate sprinkle doughnut before glancing back at my mom. “Actually…she’s Bernadette Jewell.”

  Mom quirked her eyebrow at me. “Why am I not surprised? Tell me about her.”

  “She’s serious and smart and passionate about cars and her friends. She’s a fighter—like it’s her against the world.” I knew she had a best friend, but sometimes Bernie seemed very alone. Isolated. I wasn’t sure if that was by choice or because kids could be so harsh. “She’s strong. Sometimes she’s the only one standing up to the bully in class.”

  “You like her.” Mom raised her eyebrows at me. “You need to tell her who you are. It’s not a secret you can keep forever, and it’s better if she hears it from you.”

  I shrugged and stuffed about one-hundred grams of carbs of doughnut into my mouth to avoid having to respond. My mom and I were close. But this was uncharted territory for me.

  “I know. Just—not yet.” I needed more time for her to get to know me. “About the tech competition…?”

  “I think you did the right thing.” Mom nodded, leaned over the counter and signed the permission form. “Without you, she can’t compete, right?”

  “Yeah, but my technical knowledge is weak. I could very well be a liability. I could be helping set her up for a big fall.”

  “I have never seen you fail at anything you’ve set your mind to.” Her gaze held total confidence in me. “Now you can use that photographic memory of yours for something other than memorizing lines of dialogue.”

  “You’re right. I can learn a lot in two weeks. Thanks, Mom.” I grabbed my lunch from the counter and grinned at her. “I’ve got a qu
iz in English on King Lear. Wish me luck.”

  “Ha! We covered King Lear when you were in fifth grade.” My mom had given up her teaching job when we moved to L.A. for my career. She’d been my tutor on the set up until freshman year when I needed more specialized tutors for advanced classes.

  I was halfway out the door when I turned back. “Almost forgot—not to brag or anything—but I’m the new goalie on the varsity lacrosse team. Our first game is today.”

  “You really are fitting in everything you can in your four weeks, aren’t you? You know I’ll be there. Oh…” Mom’s smile faded and her forehead creased. “Are you sure it doesn’t violate your contract?”

  I’d already signed the contract for the movie we’d film here in Texas. Every contract had a long line of prohibitions: no sky diving, no skiing, no race car driving, etc etc.

  “Yep. Nowhere in the fine print does it say I cannot play on a high school varsity team. Besides, the goalie wears pads and a helmet.”

  “I can’t wait to tell your father. He’ll want to get here early to catch a few games.” She sighed. “When you were little, he dreamed of watching his boy play sports. He’ll love this.”

  Right. Another reminder that my parents had sacrificed many of their dreams to accommodate mine. And never once complained.

  If you’re thinking, yeah, tough sacrifice there, hot shot, giving up cheering for your mediocre high school athlete vs. the glamor of a movie star… Let me shut that down right now. My parents were salt of the earth folks. I mean, they were real. They were kind and hardworking. They weren’t about money or fame or attending red carpet events or parties of famous directors. Dad played sports in high school and college. He loved sports. I know he’d have loved having a kid who played sports. Heck, he’d have been one of those dads who show up at every game wearing his son’s jersey and ringing a cow bell.