Beware of Bad Boy
Book One of Beware of Bad Boy
April Brookshire
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2013 by April Brookshire
All right reserved
www.aprilbrookshire.net
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PROLOGUE
“It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness.”
-Leo Tolstoy
Eight years ago . . .
Please don’t say my name.
“The judges’ results are in. . . .”
I looked at the girl next to me to see her shaking in excitement.
Please don’t say my name.
“The winner of this year’s Little Miss Pageant is. . . .”
My mom was in the front row with a weird smile on her face again.
Please don’t say my name.
“Gianna Hilary Thorpe!”
Oh no.
I wiped my hand against my dress, scraping it against the sequins. The lady who said my name put the sash around me and the tiara on my head. It looked just like the last one I got.
My mom was taking pictures from the edge of the stage and I smiled just like she told me to. The flash made it hard to see anything else until she was done. Daddy was still sitting in the audience, looking bored. My mom always made him come to these things. I thanked the announcer lady and did what I was supposed to do when I won. Walking across the stage, I grinned big and waved at the people out there. Some of them didn’t look happy because their daughters didn’t win.
I didn’t like them looking at me and I felt bad for the other girls the same age as me who didn’t win. Some of them didn’t like me and I think some of the moms didn’t like my mom. But she got really mad if I said I didn’t want to do pageants anymore. Last time I told her that she said if I didn’t do them, we weren’t going to Disneyland this summer. I really wanted to go.
When the pageant was over my daddy picked me up and carried me out to the hallway. “You did a good job, baby girl.”
“Thanks, Daddy. Now I get to go to Disneyland.”
He made a face and asked, “Is that what your mom said?”
“Yeah.”
My mom was walking next to us and looked at my daddy ‘cause he sounded mad. “It’s just to motivate her.”
Daddy still didn’t look happy. “Let’s just get her out of this dress and wash off the makeup. She’s had a long day.”
Mom rubbed her pregnant belly. It was getting so big and I couldn’t wait for my little brother to be born. I was glad it wasn’t going to be a girl. I’d feel bad if she had to do these stupid pageants too.
After I was cleaned up and wearing comfy clothes again, we went to eat at a restaurant. I ordered spaghetti and was glad I wasn’t wearing the fancy dress anymore when some of the sauce got on my shirt. My mom was eating chicken and rice. She always ate that when we went to restaurants. My daddy was almost done with his huge steak.
“Mom?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Can I go to Cece’s birthday slumber party?”
My mom frowned. “When is it?”
I told her and waited for her to tell me yes or no.
“Gianna, you have a pageant weekend.”
I felt like I was going to cry. Best friends weren’t supposed to miss each other’s birthdays. I didn’t want to be a bad friend.
My daddy swallowed the food in his mouth and glared at my mom. “I’m sure missing one pageant won’t be the end of the world, Julie.” My daddy always called my mom Julie. I remembered when I was little and he used to call her babe.
“I know!” my mom said brightly. “Why don’t you invite Cece over for a slumber party the following weekend? I don’t think we have anything going on then.”
“Or she could skip the stupid pageant and go to the damn party like a normal little girl,” my daddy argued.
I didn’t want them to fight again, especially over me. “That’s okay. What mom said is a good idea. I can invite Cece over.” Then I decided to add, “And maybe some other girls, too?”
My mom looked relieved. “Sure, honey, it’s a plan.”
I leaned against the side of my daddy, sad I was going to miss the party but happy I wasn’t a horrible friend. I’d get Cece the best present ever. Daddy wrapped his arm around me and I felt good I had him to stick up for me.
The next month, I missed Cece’s party but gave her the most awesome present ever when she came to my house for a slumber party. I invited three of the other girls from ballet class and we had lots of fun.
When my little brother, Chance, was born, we were really happy and when I smiled for family pictures, it was a real smile.
Daddy finished medical school and we went to the same restaurant to celebrate with grandpa and grandma. They lived in Florida now, but said no way would they miss it because his school had cost them a lot of money.
Disneyland was so cool, my favorite place in the whole world. Chance cried a lot so I didn’t think he liked it as much.
But everything changed soon after that trip to California. My daddy said he got a residency at a hospital in Texas and he had to move away. He said he loved me and my baby brother very much but he didn’t want to be married to mom anymore. He would visit as often as possible, but Chance and I had to live with mom in Denver because he was going to be working all the time and couldn’t take care of us.
My mom was really mad.
Chance didn’t even know what was going on.
I wanted to go with Daddy to Texas so bad.
CHAPTER ONE
“Even when I see a beautiful woman, I think, ‘Aw her life must be amazing.’
Everyone does it. That’s human nature to believe that beauty is everything.”
-Marina and the Diamonds
GIANNA
“Gianna, you like Scott. He’s been good to you and Chance. Why do you have such a problem with his son coming to live with us?” With her face is a mixture of motherly exasperation and bewilderment, my mom stood, hands on hips, waiting for an explanation.
Before replying, I peeked out the kitchen window to see my stepdad still out back with my little brother. “Mom, I do like Scott, he’s a nice guy. I just don’t understand why his son has to move in. Can’t he just send him to military school or something? Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do with delinquent sons? We’ve never even met the guy and we're supposed to occupy the same house as him. You may as well invite some stranger off the street into our home!”
Okay, I realized that was an exaggeration, but I couldn’t help it. Scott was easy to accept because my mom loved him and he’d always been awesome to me and Chance. It didn’t mean I had to like his son, especially one with a bad reputation for being a complete loser.
“Gianna Hilary Thorpe! That isn't the same thing at all. Scott’s son is family whether you like it or not. And you forget I did meet him once, when Scott and I took him out for dinner downtown. So he isn’t a stranger to me and soon he won’t be a stranger to you either.” She started stirring the gravy on the stove faster in agitation, but with skill managed to keep the liquid contained. It wasn’t so easy for her to contain her frustration.
“Fine, mom,” I conceded grudgingly, seeing that whining would get me nowhere. “But he’s sharing a bathroom wi
th Chance.” Hopefully the loser would do something to get kicked out of the house or sent back to his mom.
“Of course, you need your privacy, honey. I’m sure he’ll need his, too,” my mom agreed with evident relief.
What he needed was a good kick to the ass that left an imprint of Scott’s shoe. Grabbing my keys and duffel bag, I told my mom, “I’m out. The first football game is this Friday and we're working on new cheers.”
“New cheers! Honey, I can’t wait to see them!” My mom always went spastic over anything to do with my cheering. If being a cheerleader ended up being my greatest accomplishment in life, high kick me in the face now.
The lot nearest the gym at school was mostly empty since school didn’t start until tomorrow. I got a text as parked and grabbed my phone from the cup holder. It was from Cece.
Cece: Found perfect song for next routine
Me: Better get it approved with picky Jared
Cece: We’ll come up with something first, then lay it on him
Me: I’ll call you later to talk I’m just getting to cheer practice
Cece: Death to all cheerleaders!
Me: Then who would make the world a peppy place?
Cece: Gay hair stylists?
Me: Quit stereotyping!
Cece: It’s true! I always leave the salon with a bounce in my step when Tony gets done with me!
Me: You always have a bounce to your step anyways, TTYL
Hannah must’ve seen me pull up because she waited outside the gym doors for me.
Never a good sign. “Gianna, you need to talk to Kendra. She’s being a major bitch!”
What did I ever do to give these girls the impression I was a therapist or mediator?
Hannah was still seething over Kendra stealing her boyfriend last March. If they stopped for five seconds and really looked at the guy they were fighting over they’d be friends again. Having a nice car and rich parents didn’t make him any less sleazy.
“Why don’t you just punch her in the face? It’ll make you feel better,” I suggested under my breath while walking around her and pulling the heavy door open. Better yet, punch him in the face.
The summer heat outside was a stark contrast to the blast of cool air that hit me. Maybe it would cool Hannah off, too. Most of the girls were already there, doing warm-ups. A couple of the girls were wearing shorts and t-shirts in the school colors, navy blue and gold, with lightning bolts on them. I wore grey Capri sweats and a black tank top layered over a white one. My sneakers squeaked on the shiny gym floor.
Along with some new cheers, we were working on a new halftime dance routine. With the girls’ input, I doubted it’d be as cool as the one I’d come up with having Cece’s help this weekend. The song everyone decided on was a pop song with corny, but fun, lyrics. At least I had more say in the dance steps than I did in the music.
“Okay, everyone!” Ashley, our head cheerleader, announced. “Let’s get started!” We got in formation in the center of the basketball court as the music began.
*****
After practice I’d barely had time to come home and shower when he showed up. Although, since he was supposed to arrive this morning he was actually late. I checked the clock and figured about four hours to be precise.
“He’s here! He’s here! My new big brother!” My little seven-year-old little brother, Chance, was screaming at the top of his lungs, acting like Mickey Mouse was stopping by. At least someone was happy the delinquent was coming to live with us. Scratch that, Scott was pretty stoked also. My mom seemed okay with it, but I wondered how much of that had to do with wanting to please my stepdad.
I looked out the front window to see a red vintage Camaro parked at the curb. My stepdad turned off the lawnmower and went around the car to hug his son. He was far away, but dark hair and sunglasses was what I took in at first. I knew from the old photos on Scott’s desk that his son didn’t look much like him. Scott had sandy brown hair and green eyes, but his son got his looks from his mom. She was Greek or Italian or something. They moved to the back of the car now to unload the trunk.
I’d planned on sitting around in comfy clothes, catching up on my favorite HBO show. That idea didn’t seem as relaxing anymore. Feeling unprepared to deal with the new situation, I passed by Chance on my way up the stairs. I pulled a shirt and pants off their hangers and quickly dressed. I put my shoes on in the kitchen, grabbing my keys and wallet off the counter. Just as the door to the garage was closing behind me, I heard the front door opening. Hopping into my Jeep, I pushed the button to open the garage and backed out of the driveway expecting my mom to run out to stop me at any moment.
She’d be so pissed when she figured out I’d left. I knew she wanted us to welcome Caleb as a family, but he didn’t feel like family. I couldn’t help my animosity and had a grudge against a boy I’d never met, with good reason.
He started it!
My parents divorced soon after Chance was born. Sometimes I thought my mom named him Chance because she viewed him as a second chance for their marriage. Well, that didn’t work out so well. They fought before he was born, and they continued to fight after he was born. When he was just months old, my dad moved out and the following year the divorce was final. It still bummed me out, but I was glad my parents weren’t unhappy anymore, especially my dad.
Four years ago my mom met Scott and they were married a year later. The wedding was beautiful and must’ve cost Scott a fortune. I was maid of honor and my little brother was ring bearer. Caleb was notably absent.
Even though we lived in a suburb north of Denver, I’d never met my stepbrother who lived with his mom downtown. Why? Because he was a selfish punk.
While I was happy my mom had a good marriage with Scott, my stepbrother didn’t feel the same way. He refused to come to the wedding. He refused to visit his dad at our house in Broomfield. Scott drove downtown every other Sunday afternoon to visit his son, where I imagined my poor stepdad desperately tried to maintain a relationship with the ungrateful punk. My mom wasn’t perfect, but I was protective enough of her to despise Caleb for rejecting her so thoroughly. How would he feel if Chance and I were the same way with his dad?
Figuring I was already going to be in trouble for taking off without permission, I may as well make it worth it. Heading towards the freeway, I decided to go visit Cece.
CHAPTER TWO
“The reason that the all-American boy prefers beauty
to brains is that he can see better than he can think.”
-Farrah Fawcett
CALEB
This was the boring life my dad chose over my mom? I couldn’t believe I was going to be stuck here until I graduated high school. After complaining for years about my dad giving up on their marriage, my mom chucked me out the door to go live with him and his new family.
So maybe I got into trouble every now and then. So maybe I got expelled from another school last May. When did boys will be boys turn into I can’t take it anymore, you’re going to live with your father?
Three years ago my dad brought this blonde woman to meet me and told me she was going to be my new stepmother. I went home, told my mom and she freaked like her heart was breaking. The thing she was stuck on at the time was that my dad’s new wife was so much younger than her. My future stepmother appeared nice enough, but I loved my mom and I couldn’t stand her pain. I told my dad I refused to ever be a part of his new family. Even though she never said it outright, I know it made my mom feel a little better when I was resistant to having anything to do with my new stepmother and her kids.
Now, barely three years later, my mom couldn’t seem to pawn me off to that new family fast enough. Being her only child only got me so far. She’d had enough of my antics and was ready to send me to dad to straighten me out. I thought the way our home life worked was just fine. My mom did her thing and I did mine. The problem for her was she didn’t like the things I got up to.
When I pulled up to a giant two-story house which look
ed like it belonged on a sitcom, I couldn’t help but compare it to the apartment I shared with my mom. Our apartment was in a trendy Denver neighborhood. This place was definitely a far cry from trendy. The neighbors probably expected quiet and everyone was in bed by ten at night.
My dad had been mowing the lawn when I pulled up and his wife was gardening in a flowerbed. My artist mother would have called it very Norman Rockwell. I hoped I wasn’t expected to take part in any of it. I especially wasn’t going to be pushing a damn lawnmower around the front yard.
As soon as I’d parked, my dad turned off the lawnmower and met me as I got out of the car. We grabbed some of my bags from the trunk and I was ushered through the white front door with a fancy gold knocker. My dad happily patted me on the back while Julie, my stepmom, yapped about how excited everyone was to have me there.
All of a sudden a skinny blonde kid came crashing into my legs. “Caleb is here! He’s going to play PlayStation with me!” The welcoming party sure was confident. When tugging on my hand in the direction of what I guessed was the game console didn’t work, he only pulled harder.
“Caleb, this is my son, Chance, and he’s obviously excited about your coming to live with us. Chance, honey, Caleb just got here. He needs to get settled in first, so please stop yanking on his hand.” It was weird how she spoke sternly with a smile on her face.
Maybe my dad went out and married my mom’s opposite. When my mom used that tone you better believe there was a frown to accompany it. My mom was the moody artistic type, more likely to tie a scarf around her waist than her neck. This lady dressed different too, very preppy in her polo shirt. “Caleb, come sit over on the couch so we can all get to know each other.”
I followed them into a living room, feeling awkward. Jesus Christ, could a person fit more floral printed furniture and paintings into one room? I spied what seemed to be some sort of shrine on the other side of the room. A long table against the wall was covered in pictures of a blonde girl at different ages. Different outfits, too. Some looked cheerleading related and some had her in ballet getups. The pictures were far from where I sat, but she looked sort of pretty. I didn’t remember how old the daughter was, high school age at least, but she looked good enough to bang if she weren’t my dad’s stepdaughter. That definitely put her on the Do Not Bang list.
Beware of Bad Boy Page 1
