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

by M. L. Collins

  “Why would I laugh?” I asked, darting my gaze to Lacey and back to Bernie’s frowning face.

  “And you can’t tell anyone.”

  “I will take it to my grave.” I lifted my hand, palm out, next to my head.

  “I’m a contestant in the Miss Armadillo Pageant.” Bernie’s sharp gaze dared me to laugh or smile.

  Obviously there was a story here but one glance over at Lacey’s discrete headshake told me now was not a good time to ask about it. “Ah, okay. Well, I think ruffles are the wrong way to go. Definitely not you.”

  Lacey arched an eyebrow at me. “You know women’s fashion?”

  “No.” Honestly, I sort of did. Fashion played a big part in Hollywood: wardrobe for movies, getting decked out for the red carpet or some big party, or even not looking bad when some paparazzi jumped out from behind a trash can to snap a photo. One of my closest friends in the business was actress Talia West. We’d attended the Oscars and the Teen Choice Awards the last three years together and had to coordinate what we wore for the red carpet. Yeah, I knew a little something about women’s fashion. “Just trying to help by sharing a guy’s opinion.”

  “I appreciate any opinion that agrees with me on no ruffles,” Bernie said, lifting her hand so we could fist bump across the table. “Ixnay on the ruffles, Lace.”

  “But—”

  “Also, I’m not petite like you. I wear a 10 or 12 depending on how form-fitting it is.”

  Bernie was tall for a girl and built like a strong athlete. Maybe that height and size made her feel awkward, but she reminded me of a few of the stunt women I knew in the business. A combination of muscle, bone, and sheer perseverance.

  “Not a problem. I’ll run by Chloe’s Consignment Closet and grab some dresses for you to try on tonight.” Lacey scrolled through her phone looking at more pictures. “Chloe posts her new arrivals on her website and there are some definite ruffle-free contenders. I guarantee I’ll find a dress for you.”

  “Oh, heck. I’m being a brat.” Bernie puffed out a breath and sent Lacey a lopsided grin. “I really appreciate your help. As long as if fits, it doesn’t matter what the dress looks like.”

  “Only a little bratty, but I get it. You fought the good fight with Lolli for years, so it’s frustrating to lose this late in the game.” Lacey wrapped an arm around Bernie’s shoulders and squeezed a quick hug. “I’m going to get us some cookies. Any requests? Chocolate chip? Oatmeal?”

  “Chocolate chip,” Bernie said.

  “Cookies?” That perked me right up. “I’ll take a peanut butter cookie if they have any.”

  “Got it.” Lacey spun away toward the cafeteria line.

  “I’m being dumb, I know.” Bernie stabbed a straw into her milk carton. “It’s just—”

  “Hey, you don’t need an excuse. You’ve got a lot on your plate. I get it. We’ve got this.” I leaned forward, looking directly into her eyes. “First, we’ll win the Texas High School Auto Tech Competition and then you’ll be crowned Miss Armadillo.”

  “Whoa, no.” Bernie’s face couldn’t look more horrified if a cockroach had run across the table. “I only need to enter the pageant. I promised Lolli I’d take it seriously, but that doesn’t mean I need to try to win it. That’s like tilting at windmills anyway, so no.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. She was totally selling herself short, but the look on her face said this might not be the best time to share my opinion. “So, lose Miss Armadillo. Win the auto competition. That should take some pressure off you.”

  “You obviously don’t know my grandma.”

  “The infamous Grandma Gigi of the wise words?”

  “No. Other grandma. Grandma Lolli, the true believer in all things that make a southern belle: big hair, pageants, and milk bath facials.”

  “Milk bath facials?” Hey, I’d heard weirder beauty treatments in Hollywood. A lot weirder.

  “She swears by them. Don’t get me wrong—my grandma Lolli is wonderful. She’s sweet and adorable. It’s just that she goes crazy over this pageant stuff.”

  “So we like Grandma Lolli…”

  “We love Lolli. We just hate pageants.”

  “Okay. For the next two weeks, I’m team Bernie. I’m here to help you any way I can.” I pointed at her. “You can count on me.”

  “I appreciate it.” Bernie pulled out a stack of papers, sliding them into the middle of the table between us. “I printed out the diagrams of each major system. If it’s okay with you, tomorrow we can start eating lunch in shop class while we work. We’re still on for tonight at my house, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh, heck. I just realized it’s Friday.” Bernie shook her head. “I’m an idiot. I can’t ask you to blow your Friday night studying.”

  “I’m a nerd, remember? I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than spend Friday night studying with you.” That wasn’t a lie or an exaggeration. Which was sort of a revelation to me.

  “Right.” Bernie’s shoulders relaxed and she sent me a crooked smile.

  We spent the rest of lunch studying the diagram of the transmission system. Basically, Bernie gave me a “TED Talk” while I committed the diagram to memory.

  “I’m back.” Lacey plopped down at the table, sliding two peanut butter cookies over to me. “And I dragged Grady with me.”

  “I’d follow you anywhere, babe.” Grady slid in next to Lacey with a wide grin. He reached across and snagged one of my cookies.

  “Hey!” I shoved the other cookie in my mouth before he could grab that one too.

  “Did you guys hear that Kingsly Grant is missing?” Lacey leaned into the table, wide-eyed.

  Missing? I almost choked on the cookie, but managed to swallow it down. Sure I’d seen the tabloid headline the other day, but who believed those? I really hoped that the story hadn’t been picked up by a major news outlet. That would be bad.

  “Who?” Bernie sent Lacey a distracted glance.

  “Kingsly Grant,” Lacey said. “You know…King…the movie star? I just heard it from Gwen who said she heard it from Josh.”

  Grady’s glance slid to mine before he laughed and said, “Maybe consider the source… Let’s remember that Josh believes in Bigfoot and thinks burping out our school fight song attracts girls.”

  “I considered that,” Lacey said. “But it’s all over the internet too.”

  Bernie blinked. “Is that the guy the TV crew was asking about a couple weeks ago?”

  “Yes.” Lacey’s gaze met mine and she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that you look a little like King?”

  “Do I? I’ll take that as a compliment.” I pushed my glasses up with a touch of my finger on the bridge and jutted out my jaw. “I saw him in Seventeen Summers and he was pretty jacked. Maybe I should see if he needs a body double.”

  That had Lacey’s gaze roaming over my sweat shirt. Today I was wearing one with a picture of Einstein saying “You Matter. Unless You Energy.”

  “Dude, she said a little like him.” Grady practically busted a gut over the idea, which I’d thank him for later. “Not to be mean, but body double might be stretching it. I mean, maybe in some parallel universe where King is a super-nerd who’s out-of-shape and awkward, then sure.”

  13

  Oh, But You Will, Grasshopper

  Grant

  After parking on Bernie’s driveway, I grabbed my goalie stick and a bag of balls from my car, setting them on the front walk before I climbed the well-worn wooden steps up to Bernie’s porch. There were two comfortable-looking rocking chairs on the porch, one occupied by a woman with her silver-streaked hair piled high into a Texas-sized updo. She had a knitting project forgotten in her lap as she peered in through the open window next to her.

  “You must be Bernie’s Grandma Lolli,” I said.

  Her head whipped toward me and one hand flew to her throat while the other knocked the knitting off her lap.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to s
tartle you.” I thought she’d have heard my car pull down the gravel driveway. I retrieved the knitting, handing it over to her. “I’m Grant. I believe Bernie’s expecting me.”

  “Yes, yes. Bernie said you were coming by.” Lolli leaned back to the window and called, “Bernie, your special friend is here!”

  From inside, there was a squeak as something fell with a splat and then a snicker.

  “Everything okay?” I called inside. “Need help?”

  “No! Everything’s fine!” Bernie called back. “Except for the fact that I’m eighteen years old and have been walking wrong my whole life!”

  I cocked at eyebrow at Lolli, hoping she’d clear up that mystery.

  “Lacey’s helping Bernie practice walking for the pageant.” Lolli’s gaze moved to the window and she sighed. “I offered my help, but as you might know, Bernie can be very…independent.”

  I did know that about Bernie. Grandma Lolli’s face was full of love and pride but also something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Yearning?

  Bending down to peer into the window, I winked at Lolli before calling inside, “Bernie, let’s see it. Come out and show us your walk. We promise not to judge.”

  “I don’t mind judging,” Bernie said, pushing her way through the screen door with Lacey right behind her. “It’s the laughing I don’t care for.”

  “I already said I was sorry,” Lacey said. “And I wasn’t laughing at the way you walked but at the expression on your face. You looked like I was forcing you to walk over pus-filled lizards in bare feet.”

  “Okay, that’s gross.” Bernie’s face pinched up. “Fine. Maybe the shoes and the book on my head aren’t so bad. Let me find my inner-girl—surely I’ve got one—and try again.”

  “That’s our girl,” Lacey said, sending a thumb’s up over to Lolli.

  “Shoulders back and lead with your hips,” Lacey directed.

  Bernie took a breath, placed the book on her head, shifted her hips forward and proceeded to walk the length of the porch as if she were walking on slippery ice. During an earthquake.

  “Well, it’s better,” Lacey said, nodding her encouragement. “Wouldn’t you agree, Grandma Lolli?”

  “Oh my, yes,” Lolli said enthusiastically, although her face didn’t quite match.

  “What if you kept your gaze higher and focused more on your feet instead of your hips?” I suggested. What can I say? Even male actors had to learn how to move. High definition cameras picked up everything.

  “I don’t mean to be a wise-ass, but how about you demonstrate that…” Bernie held the book out to me.

  “Sure.” I took the book, moved down to the opposite end of the porch, placed the book on my head, stared directly into Bernie’s eyes and walked from one end of the porch until I stood three feet in front of her. “Of course, I’m not wearing heels, but you get the idea. And I don’t believe for a second you didn’t mean to be a wise-ass.”

  “You know me so well.” Bernie shrugged.

  “Um…that was—wow.” Lacey gave me the once-over. “You just floated across the porch.”

  “That was perfect,” Lolli said. “Graceful and elegant.”

  “Fine,” Bernie said. “Never let it be said that I’m not up to a throw down. Let me try your way.”

  “That’s the spirit.” I handed her the book and backed up to the opposite side of the porch. “Alright, let’s see it. Bring it, Jewell.”

  She placed the book on her head, pinned me with her gaze like I was her target and she was a dart, and walked toward me. It wasn’t graceful and elegant. Bernie’s long strides were confident, athletic, and full of barely contained energy. Not going to lie, it was pretty hot.

  When she stood in front of me, she tilted her head forward and the book fell into my hands.

  “How was that? Better?” she asked.

  “Hmmm.” Lolli blinked and tilted her head to the side.

  “Not better?” Bernie’s shoulders slumped and her gaze ran around to each face on the porch.

  “You’re a work in progress,” I said. “Just like me and my goalie skills.”

  “Exactly.” Lacey flashed Bernie an encouraging smile. “We’ll keep working on it. Now go try on the dresses I brought.”

  “Do I have to? I don’t want to keep Grant waiting. I promised we’d get in some lax practice before we study.”

  “It’ll take less than ten minutes.” Lacey rolled her eyes. “I only brought three to start.”

  “I’ve got all night.” I took the rocking chair next to Lolli, stretching my legs out to relax. “Let’s see the dresses.”

  Lacey almost had Bernie convinced to try on the dresses when Grady pulled his truck onto the driveway.

  “Thank goodness. Grady for the save,” Bernie said as he walked up the drive to stand with one foot perched on the bottom porch step.

  “How awesome am I? You’re welcome.” Grady puffed out his chest taking a Superman pose. “What did I save this time?”

  “Don’t encourage him,” Lacey said, but sent a pretty encouraging smile to her boyfriend.

  “You saved all of us,” Bernie said. “Honestly, I was about to be a major pain in the butt and this is a much-deserved time out. No one should have to suffer through me trying to be a girl.”

  “Hey, now…” Lacey gave Bernie a firm look. “You do need a break with a comment like that. Do you and Grant want to come to the drive in with us? They’re having a Kingsly Grant marathon in an attempt to get him to pick Jackson High as his next movie location.”

  “What drive-in?” Bernie frowned. “Coyote Tom’s Drive-In has been closed for years.”

  “Coyote Tom passed away and willed it to his son.” Lolli shook her head and pursed her lips. “But Tom, Jr. cheated on his wife and went through a messy divorce which dragged on for years. His ex-wife finally got it in the divorce settlement and fixed it up and this is the grand re-opening. Only now it’s called Coyote Tom’s Son’s Ex-Wife’s Drive-In.”

  “You’re kidding about the name.” Not that I thought someone’s pain was funny, but the actor in me loved the name of the drive-in.

  “No. Like I said, it was an ugly divorce.”

  “You in?” Grady asked, smirking at me. “I mean, I’ve heard King’s acting is a little weak but the car chases are awesome.”

  “Grant and I are studying tonight,” Bernie said.

  “I don’t think he’s that bad of an actor,” I said, which only made Grady’s smirk grow wider. “Lacey seems to appreciate him.”

  “What’s not to appreciate about King without his shirt on?” Lacey asked. “Duh.”

  I laughed as Grady’s smirk morphed into a grimace and then he sent me a subtle nod before he reached for his girlfriend’s hand.

  “Fine, Lace. Shirtless King for you and car chases for me.” Grady wrapped his arm around Lacey’s shoulders and led her down the driveway, calling over his shoulder, “We’re off to have fun. Enjoy studying, you crazy nerds.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Grant.” Lolli gathered her knitting and stood. “I’m going to head in to watch Murder She Wrote. Sometimes I get lucky and find an episode I haven’t seen.”

  She wandered inside, the screen door closing with a soft whoosh behind her leaving just me and Bernie on the porch.

  “Time to work on your goalie skills.” Bernie kicked off her high heels and shoved her feet into a pair of well-worn sneakers next to a big planter of geraniums. “Ready?”

  “Absolutely. I hate being the reason my team loses the game.”

  We walked around her house and back toward the detached garage where a full-sized lacrosse goal sat up against the side of it.

  “You won’t need your stick to start,” Bernie said, picking up three tennis balls from a pile of lacrosse supplies in the grass. “How’s your juggling?”

  “My juggling? How does that—” I stopped talking when Bernie began juggling the tennis balls like a pro—“Whoa. That’s impressive.”

  “Your t
urn.” Bernie tossed the tennis balls to me one at a time. “You can start juggling with two balls if you like or three if you can handle it.”

  “Challenge accepted.” I had juggled before. Filming a movie and TV show required a lot of time on a set. A lot of boring downtime especially for a child actor. So in between all my tutoring we also did things to stay amused: puzzles, board games, crosswords, a lot of hands of go fish, close-up magic, and juggling—you name it I’d done it.

  I tossed the balls in the air one after another and juggled. Sure I was a little rusty, but it didn’t take me long to find and settle into a rhythm. Each time I dropped the ball Bernie would toss it back into the mix.

  “Not bad,” Bernie said.

  “I think what you meant to say was awesome job.”

  Bernie laughed and shook her head.

  “You know you want to.” I let the tennis balls fall at my feet while I shot her a smile.

  “If that’s what you need to hear, awesome job, Grant. Time to catch some cards.”

  “I don’t see what juggling and a deck of cards have to do with playing lacrosse.”

  “Oh, but you will, grasshopper.” Bernie grinned at me. “You will.”

  She grabbed a deck of cards from her pile of supplies, flipped a large plastic industrial bucket upside down and stood on it. “I’ll flip the cards at you one at a time and you try to catch each one. Focus on driving with your top hand and stepping forward with your lead foot toward the card.”

  “All I have to do is catch the cards?” It sounded almost too easy.

  “That’s it. Take your goalie stance in the crease. Ready?”

  “Absolutely. Maybe soon we’ll get on to something challenging.”

  I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut. Bernie started flicking the cards at me and let me just say it was harder than I thought it would be.

  “Drive that top hand quicker. Faster lead foot. The other lead foot.”

  “I’m trying!” I laughed at my own incompetence but focused. Drive the top hand. Forward lead foot. Top hand. Lead foot. Drive. Step. Drive. Step. “Okay. I think I’m getting it.”