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

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The Tomboy & The Movie Star: A Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 3) Page 10

by M. L. Collins


  On the nights when I woke up scared, I’d look out and see the light in the garage and fall back asleep knowing he was close by.

  “And then…he stopped working on it so he could spend every minute at Mama’s bedside.” I remember being confused and sad watching him. I was too young to understand that my mama wasn’t going to make it. Too young to know I should memorize her every word to me so I’d have them to keep forever. “And then she was gone and everything changed.”

  “I’m sorry, Bernie. So sorry.” Grant eliminated the space between us. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest.

  The feeling of comfort shocked me. Along with the sting at the back of my eye sockets. I struggled to swallow down my urge to bawl my eyes out. For so long, I’d had this gaping hole in my heart. Not wanting to add to the burden my dad, brothers, and grandmas carried. But standing wrapped in Grants arms, the big gaping hole in my heart felt a bit smaller. Maybe the two of us did fit together.

  15

  Polka Music & Cheesy Tots For The Win!

  Grant

  Here’s the truth: I had travelled the world. Performed in front of huge crowds. Auditioned for big-name directors. Met famous celebrities and Presidents and even Kings and Queens.

  But I stood on Bernie’s porch more nervous than any of those other events. More nervous than waiting to hear if I’d won an Emmy or an Oscar.

  “Come on in, Grant,” Lolli said, pushing the screen door open. “Bernie should be right down.”

  I entered and stood in the foyer with Grandma Lolli while voices hissed upstairs.

  Lacey, no. I’m not wearing a bow in my hair.

  Fine, then what about this headband?

  No. And not that shirt either.

  So you’re wearing a T-shirt and jeans? You should look special for a first date. Tell me how you look different than any other day at school right now.

  What? Why would a boy ask me out and expect something different? But if you insist, instead of my serious face, I’ll smile. How’s that?

  I grinned across at a wide-eyed Lolli and hollered up the stairs, “That sounds more than fine to me!”

  Part of what I liked about Bernie was she didn’t put on any act. She didn’t play coy, or dumb, or fake and flirty. I didn’t want Bernie to be anyone else but who she was.

  Bernie and Lacey came downstairs and sure enough—the sweet, slightly nervous smile on Bernie’s lips and in her eyes was more than enough.

  “Here she is.” Lolli glanced at Bernie with a soft smile on her face. “Y’all have fun tonight.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Lolli left the foyer for the back of the house and Lacey pushed both Bernie and me out the front door.

  “Seriously, have fun. Although… I should tell you I made the mistake of mentioning that you two were going to Burger Barn to Grady…”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Oh what? Why is that bad?”

  “Because Grady will probably show up just to give me a hard time.”

  “Lacey and I will protect you.”

  “Works for me. So, we’ll see you later, Lacey.” I opened the passenger door for Bernie who slid in while giving me the side-eye. Was she not used to nice guys?

  “Sorry. Blame my mom.” I shrugged, shut the door and walked around to slide in behind the steering wheel. After buckling in, I backed out of Bernie’s driveway and headed into town. “As my date, you’re entitled to change the radio station.”

  “You’ve got it on the Motown station; I’m good.”

  “Nice.” I sent her a smile. “I guess it makes sense what with being named Bernadette, you grew up on classic Motown too.”

  “Yep. Also classic rock from my Dad. But, I also listened to all the popular polka hits, thanks to my grandma Gigi.”

  “Polka hits? I had no idea.”

  “Oh, yeah. You don’t know what you missed.” She reached out, turning the dial on the station until—unbelievably—she tuned in a real live polka station. “Unless you’ve danced to “Polka! Polka! Polka!” on the kitchen floor, you really haven’t lived.”

  Devil’s Lap, Texas was a small town, so although Bernie lived on the outskirts where the older neighborhoods were, it was still only a ten-minute drive to Burger Barn in the original downtown.

  The place was packed.

  “Is it always this busy?” I leaned down so Bernie could hear me just as she turned to me and we stood face-to-face and lip-to-lip. “Bernie, I really want to kiss you right now—but I don’t want to cheapen our first kiss.”

  Bernie blinked up at me with her crazy beautiful hazel eyes—looking more green than brown right now—and everything fell away. The people, the noise, the sawdust covered floors and the rustic decor all disappeared. It was just us. Me and Bernie and no-one else.

  To my surprise, Bernie stood on her tiptoes and touched her lips to mine. It was soft and sweet and over before I could react.

  Because Bernie pulled back and bit her bottom lip as her cheeks flushed a soft pink.

  “Sorry. I-I knew I’d just be thinking about it through our whole meal once you mentioned it. So…I hope you don’t mind. It didn’t feel cheap—at all.”

  “Not at all.” I brushed a loose curl off her cheek. “Now I’ll be thinking about that kiss through our whole meal. But I’m not complaining. I’m also not counting that as our first official kiss. It’s a fact that a first kiss has to be more than two seconds to be official.”

  “A fact, huh? I had no idea.” Bernie’s lips wobbled, fighting a smile as she turned to gaze up at the menu above the counter.

  “Maybe even more like a rule. Who are we to thumb our noses at rules? I’m a nerd and embrace rules whole-heartedly.” I turned to the menu, looking it over with interest. “Are the chocolate malt milkshakes any good?’

  “All their shakes are good,” Bernie said just as it was our turn at the counter.

  “Welcome to Burger Barn. I’m Cashier Carl and I’m here to take your order.” Some dude looking less than thrilled with having to work on a Saturday night asked while his eyes checked out some girls over at the drink machine. “What do you want in your feed bag?”

  Feed bag? Guess they had a ranching theme going on.

  “I’ll take a bacon cheeseburger and a banana milkshake.” Bernie looked at me.

  “Can I try your shake?” I arched an eyebrow at Bernie who smiled and said yes. “Okay, then I’ll take a chocolate malt shake, two cheeseburgers and an order of cheesy tots. Are they any good?”

  The guy shrugged. “What’s not to love about melted cheese on tots?”

  “Good point. So, yes. An order of cheesy tots.”

  “That’ll be twenty-three dollars and eighteen cents.” Carl narrowed his eyes at me when I didn’t immediately whip out my wallet. “You paying with cash or a card?”

  That was the moment I realized I hadn’t thought this through. I’d totally forgotten about paying for the date. As Kingsly Grant, I actually hadn’t paid for anything in a few years. Not in person. Ever since my career took off four years ago, I’d been working nonstop. My assistant and my accountant handled all my bills.

  “I forgot about paying. I don’t have any cash or credit card on me.” I was disappointed I’d overlooked something so basic. Something a regular guy would have thought of. Maybe even saved up his money to take his girl out. The dude behind the counter gave me a judgy look and sighed like I was the worst. Which, he had a point. “I’ll have to—”

  “I’ve got it,” Bernie said, pulling some cash from her back pocket and handing it to the guy, now rolling his eyes at me. “As long as you’re sharing the cheesy tots.”

  “I was sharing even when I thought I was paying.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her off to the side so others could order while we waited for my new best friend, Cashier Carl, to make our shakes. “And I don’t share my food with just anyone.”

  “Bernard?” Todd Black’s voice was as annoying as it was unwelcome, busti
ng into our Saturday night. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess… Y’all are on a study break. Because not even a nerd-nozzle like St-St-Stutterfield would date a guy like you, Bernard.”

  I turned to respond, but Bernie grabbed my hand and squeezed it lightly. Heck yes, I’d rather focus on Bernie holding my hand than Todd and his small-minded insults. I pulled her in closer and it was only then I heard her mumbling to herself. Don’t lose the bet. Don’t punch him in the face. He’s not worth it.

  Huh.

  Sadly, Todd wasn’t deterred and walked around to stand in front of us, wearing an idiot grin on his face.

  “No answer for me, Jewell?” he prodded. “Tick tock, Bernard. Time’s ticking. I hope you and Stutter-nerd are studying like crazy for the competition. Don’t think I’m going easy on you just because you’re a girl.”

  Punching Todd in the face did sound like a good idea. Which my lawyer would hate. Trust me on this.

  Now, I hadn’t taken Cashier Carl for a hero, but it just goes to reinforce that anyone can be heroic. Because Carl saved one of us from punching Todd in the face by calling out our number just then. Saved by the cheesy tots. We pushed around Todd, accepted the tray of food from Superhero Carl and found an empty booth to slide into.

  We ate and I attempted to take Bernie’s mind off of Todd by telling her a funny story of when I learned to ride a two-wheeler. Only I changed the location from the Hollywood set of my first movie to Maple Street. And I changed the guy I accidentally hit from George Clooney to Uncle George. It was still funny enough to make Bernie laugh.

  “Hey, you’re late.”

  What? I looked up to find Grady and Lacey standing next to our booth.

  “Late for what?” There was no way I’d have made a commitment during my date with Bernie.

  “The thing,” Grady said, frowning down at me. “And I found your missing hat. Here. Put it on.”

  He shoved the ball cap low on my head so I had to tilt my head back to peer up at him.

  “It’s not my—”

  That was the moment I noticed the commotion a few tables away. One of the paparazzi with a notepad asking students if they’d seen King around town. Those darn tabloid rumors were building momentum.

  “My favorite hat.” I pulled the brim of the cap low over my eyes. “Thanks, man.”

  “Anytime. Now let’s go do that thing.” Grady used his body as a blocker. “Before it’s too late.”

  “What thing?” Lacey asked, her forehead wrinkled with confusion. “Is this some guy thing?”

  “Exactly,” I mumbled. “A dude thing. Secret bro code stuff. Ready, Bernie?” I slid from the booth, pausing for Bernie to stand, letting her go in front of me. At the last second, I grabbed the paper boat of cheesy tots because hey—cheesy tots—and we made our escape.

  Once out in the parking lot, I nodded my thanks to Grady for the save. See? I told you heroes were everywhere.

  “Got your back, Stutterfield,” Grady said. “Catch you later.”

  “Wait, what?” Lacey asked, hands on her hips. “You can’t leave us hanging. What’s ‘the thing’ that was so important we had to rush over here. I’m dying to know what ‘the thing’ is.”

  “The thing?” Grady stood looking at a loss for words. “Right…the thing, Grant. Let’s do the…thing. You go first.”

  “Absolutely.” I handed my tots to Bernie and erased the space between me and Grady and gave him the biggest bro-hug I had in me. I’m not sure who was more surprised: Lacey, Bernie or Grady. Grady recovered quickly and hugged me back, stifling a laugh until we broke apart, serious again. “There you go. The thing. Now Bernie and I are heading out to finish our date.”

  Lacey narrowed her eyes at Grady while Bernie stood, head tilted, looking between the two of us. Then she shrugged and popped a tot into her mouth. My girl was cool as a cucumber, but I needed to wrap this up if I wanted any more cheesy tots.

  Which Bernie knew. The girl was eating them one-at-a-time while she looked at me with a light of challenge in her eyes.

  “Later, guys.” I took Bernie’s hand and led her away toward my car.

  “Got you moving with the tots, didn’t I?” Bernie snickered.

  “A little with the tots. Mostly, I’m thinking about our official first kiss.”

  “Eeep!” she squeaked. “The ‘official’ part makes me nervous. What if we don’t get it right?”

  I took the opportunity to snag the tots back while she was flustered about the idea of our kiss.

  Our kiss. Suddenly, I was flustered.

  “Okay, I see your point. If it makes you feel better, this will be my first real kiss too. So, yeah, there’s a bit of pressure to get it right. I mean, I don’t want to mess it up to the point that you don’t want to repeat it.”

  Sure, at eighteen, I’d kissed a few girls. Heck, my first ever kiss was on national TV when I was ten. And then with Talia in our movie together two years ago. That one really didn’t count because the second our lips touched, it was clear we were just friends. All the other kisses were written into scripts. This would be my first real kiss too. The first kiss that meant something. The first kiss with a girl who made me forget my own name half the time.

  I wasn’t going to let our first real kiss be in the parking lot of Burger Barn. Not when I hoped this would be a story we’d tell years from now. I tossed the tots in the trash (now you know how serious I was about Bernie) and hustled her to my car and left the parking lot.

  Deciding Bernie’s front porch would be the perfect setting, I drove carefully toward her house.

  “So, I’m liking this polka music,” I said, attempting to distract us both from the growing tension over this all-important first kiss. Why did I have to open my mouth and make such a big deal over it? “I mean, it’s not Motown, and not classic rock, and not old school country, and not Mozart, and not—”

  “Pull over,” Bernie said.

  “What?” I jerked my head around to her, pulling over abruptly. “Are you sick? Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I’m just—” She leaned into me and kissed me. Like really kissed me.

  I went with it. I wrapped my hands around her face, threading the fingers of one hand into her crazy curls and kissed her back. Her lips were soft and she tasted sweet and my heart pounded so loudly in my ears, it darn near drowned out the polka music.

  Our lips parted when we needed to come up for air. We sat, foreheads together, happily breathless.

  “I’m sorry,” Bernie said. “I couldn’t take the stress. And that was more than two seconds, so it’s official. You can’t take it back.”

  “Take it back? Never in a million years.” I kissed her forehead, gave her a long look, and focused ahead, pulling back onto the road. “It was perfect.”

  16

  “Adorable” is Not in the Tomboy Code of Conduct

  Bernie

  “Yes. This one works. It totally works, Lace.” I stood staring at the girl in the orange evening gown wondering what in the heck would have made her put that monstrosity on.

  “Hmmm, I’m not feeling it.” Lacey stood behind me, looking into the full-length mirror at my reflection. “I don’t think orange is your color.”

  “Are you sure?” It was pretty clear. The orange made me look like I was on day five of a one-week flu. I jerked my eyes away from the mirror and over to the pile of dresses sitting like a chiffon rainbow of Lacey’s rejects. “You’ve sort of eliminated every other color and style. If I smile, maybe I’ll look like a happy pumpkin.”

  “That’s not a good thing.” Lacey ran her gaze over the pile again with eagle eyes. “Oh, wait! Here’s one I think we missed. What do you think?”

  She’d pulled out a dress and was holding it up against her.

  “I love it. Let’s go with it.”

  “Good try, but go put it on.” Lacey rolled her eyes and shoved the dress in my hands, pushing me into the bathroom. “Let me see it before you take it off.”

  “This is the one.” I
let the orange dress fall to my feet as I shoved my arms and head inside the newest option, wiggling it on down. “I have a strong feeling about this one.”

  “Ha! You’ve said that every time.”

  I had. Was it wrong to want to make short work of this painful process? I’d already been trying on dresses for over thirty minutes which was thirty minutes over my limit. I was doing this because Lolli insisted, so to my mind, since I was only going to wear this dress for a total of ten minutes, it didn’t really matter what it looked like.

  “How’s it look?” Lacey called from the other side of the door.

  “It looks…” Like all the others? Too full of bows and ruffles? Too girly? Too everything? All true. But the color was nice. It reminded me of the original color of my mama’s Mustang from photos I’d seen. Before the guy who’d bought it from her had let it sit in the sun for ten years: Tahoe Turquoise. “Hang on to your hat—and I’m not just saying this so we can be done, even though I’ve done that with every dress so far—but I think this one works.”

  I exited the bathroom for Lacey to see it.

  “Oh my gosh! It’s the perfect color for you.” Lacey clapped and walked a whole circle around me, looking at the dress from every angle. “It looks great with your hair and brings out the green in your eyes. I don’t love the bows, but—”

  “But it works, right? I have a dress. Thanks, Lace.” I hustled back into the bathroom to change into my old cutoff jean shorts and my Al’s Garage T-shirt. I snagged a thick pair of socks and sat on my bed to lace up my work boots.

  “Do you want to move on to makeup next?” Lacey asked just as my phone sounded with an incoming text on the bed behind me.

  I twisted around to grab it and check. “It breaks my heart to tell you this, but I can’t right now. That was Grant. He just got here and he’s waiting for me in the garage.”

 

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