Resisting the Rebel

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  “Yeah, I guess he would. Because he’d like watching you prance around in that short skirt.” He shot her an over-the-top leer, hoping to make her laugh.

  Her eyes widened in shock, but she laughed. “God, my fake boyfriend is such a pig.”

  “Total jackass. You should dump him.”

  She laughed again. “I will. Once he helps me with this essay.”

  He liked the way this felt, sitting with her in a private corner teasing and joking. He never did this with girls. With anyone.

  She reached into her bag and pulled out a packet of green Pop Rocks candy and slid it across the table.

  “What’s this?” He eyed it like it was poison. He hadn’t eaten that junk since he was a kid.

  “It’s a thank-you. For agreeing to help.” She grinned like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

  He slid the candy into his jacket pocket next to his notebook. “I’ll save it for later.”

  “Okay, just don’t drink them with Coke or your stomach will explode. I’d hate for my fake boyfriend to die a gruesome death before my essay’s done.” She fake shuddered. “Your funeral would be crazy. Elle and I would have a fight over who missed you the most. Hair-pulling. Screaming. Big scene.”

  His gaze met hers as they laughed together. She was nuts. Completely whacked.

  Not his type at all.

  “Let’s focus, Disco,” he said.

  So they did, even though he had to keep telling himself to stop staring at her lips.

  Chapter Eight

  Jive Talkin’

  Thursday, September 22

  “You sure you’re all right, doll? You seem a little stressed.” Mandy’s dad shoveled a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

  Gran had cooked Dad’s favorite meal; she always did the nights he returned from road trips. Gran tsk-tsked as she reached for the Miss Piggy and Kermit salt-and-pepper shakers. “She’s stressed; I can tell by her mood ring.” Gran glanced pointedly at Mandy’s ring.

  Mandy sighed, pushing her plate away. She wasn’t hungry. “I have a lot on my mind. Spirit Week, homework…”

  “Your new boyfriend,” Reg chimed in, leering suggestively.

  Mandy considered throwing Miss Piggy at his head, but reminded herself that violence wasn’t the answer, and she’d already winged him earlier with the yogurt, so instead she just glared at him.

  Her dad frowned as he tore a piece of bread from the garlic loaf. “New boyfriend? Who is it? When do I get to meet him?”

  Mandy squirmed on her chair. Way too many people were getting invested in this fake relationship. “Um, just a guy from school. It’s nothing serious.”

  Reg snorted, pausing his chewing. “I still can’t believe Torrs is into you.”

  Gran smacked Reg on the arm. “What the hell is wrong with you, Reginald?”

  “Mother, please.” Mandy’s dad sighed heavily and set his fork on his plate. “No swearing at the dinner table, remember?”

  Gran blinked innocently. “I can’t help it; it’s the pain meds talking.”

  Dad focused on Reg. “And next time you insult your sister like that, I’m grounding you from the car for a month.”

  “You can’t do that!” Reg protested.

  Mandy closed her eyes, willing all the voices to be quiet. There was no escaping the crazy. School was crazy; her family was crazy. Her entire life was chaos. Was it any wonder she had off-the-charts ADHD?

  When had things gotten so crazy? She knew the answer: when Mom had died. Dad had to take on more cross-country hauls to pay off Mom’s medical expenses that insurance hadn’t covered. Gran had moved in with them since Dad was gone so much, as sort of a surrogate mom. But then she’d had to go on oxygen because of a lifetime of smoking. It wasn’t the meds that made her swear, though; she’d always been like that.

  And Reg had just…gone over to the dark side, like Anakin Skywalker. Somehow his former easygoing self had turned into someone she couldn’t stand, like he’d been secretly bitten by a radioactive asshole spider.

  Once upon a time they’d gotten along, and he’d even looked out for her. Now he seemed to hate her, like he was embarrassed to be her brother. It cut her to the core, but she tried to bury her hurt feelings because she didn’t have time for that, on top of everything else.

  Mandy stood up from the table, grabbing her plate. “I need to get to J.T.’s. We have a scavenger hunt meeting tonight, to get everything ready for next week.”

  “What about your homework? You staying on top of it?” her dad asked.

  Mandy’s stomach twisted as she thought of the stupid English paper. She’d managed to catch up in all her other classes, but this paper was killing her, though that library session with Caleb had been sort of helpful. “Yeah,” she said, not meeting her dad’s eyes. “I’m all caught up.”

  Reg snorted. “Only because J.T. does everything for you.”

  “That’s enough,” her dad growled. “To your room, Reg. You’re grounded for the night.”

  “No way. That’s bullshit!”

  Dad slammed his hands on the table. “The next person who swears at my dinner table eats a bar of soap!”

  “Son of a bitch, honey,” Gran said. “Nobody does that anymore.”

  Mandy walked quickly, having changed from her platform wedge heels to flats before escaping her insane family. My family is on the right path, she told herself, increasing her walking pace. All their choices will lead to good. Eventually.

  Cammie had offered to pick her up, but Mandy had declined. She needed to burn off her stress, and walking to J.T’s house helped clear her head. She worked on her meditative breathing as she soaked in the warmth of the sun, which had quickly melted Saturday night’s early snowstorm.

  It was always worse the nights Dad came home from road trips, because they all did their own thing while he was gone. When he returned and laid down the law, Reg fought back, Gran’s swearing hit the stratosphere, and Mandy just wanted to hide out, even though she loved her dad. She loved her Gran, too, of course. She even loved her brother, but she didn’t like him much these days.

  Each day gets easier. Mandy walked faster. One day my family will survive a dinner without an argument.

  Mandy became aware of a black car in her peripheral vision. The car slowed as it pulled to the curb. The window rolled down, and Caleb’s gravelly voice floated toward her. “Wanna ride, little girl? I’ve got candy. And puppies.”

  Mandy bit back a laugh and leaned down to stare through the open window. “Perv.”

  “Is that an accusation? Or a proposition?”

  Caleb leaned across the passenger seat and opened the car door. “Get in, Little Red Riding Hood. The Big Bad Wolf is going to the same place you are.”

  “I didn’t think you’d really show,” she said, surprised.

  He smirked. “My fake girlfriend is bossy. And she’s running the meeting. Don’t you want be on time, Disco?”

  She always lost track of time, another lousy side effect of ADHD. She tried to remember to set alarms on her phone, but sometimes she forgot. And she always underestimated how long it took to walk to J.T.’s. Sighing, she slid into his car, hardly believing she was in the hearse. Again.

  “Where’s your car?” Caleb asked as he pulled away from the curb.

  “I don’t have one,” she said, irritated at his assumption. Just because his family was loaded didn’t mean everyone else was. “Some of us have to share a family car.” Though she could’ve taken it tonight since Reg was grounded.

  He glanced at her, then focused back on the road. “Okay,” he said. “So why didn’t Cammie give you a ride?”

  “Who are you, the head of the Inquisition?”

  He shot her a surprised look, eyebrow raised. “You know about the Inquisition?”

  A flame of anger ignited in her stomach. It wouldn’t take much to transform into a raging fire, especially after all the stress from dinner tonight. “How dumb do you think I am, Caleb? Just because I�
�m not in the honors classes doesn’t mean I’m a moron.”

  They stopped at a red light and he turned to face her, running a hand through his tangled hair. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Yeah, you did,” she said. “Just because I think Catcher in the Rye is a stupid book doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

  She noticed his fingers grip the steering wheel tighter.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You’re definitely not stupid.”

  She let out a long breath. “Well…that’s a first. Everyone else thinks I am.”

  He darted a glance at her. “I doubt J.T. does. Or Cammie.”

  “They’re my friends.” She shrugged. “I meant teachers. Especially Spriggs.” She mumbled something under her breath he couldn’t quite make out.

  “What was that?” He pulled the car to a stop in front of J.T.’s house and turned to look at her.

  “Just um, a mantra. Never mind.”

  “A mantra?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure you don’t believe in them, and I’m not interested in you making fun of me right now, so—”

  “What is it? I will get an A on my essay and jump into a 1970s time warp so I can be the Queen of Disco?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “It’s…bigger than that. And I’m not telling you, so give it up.”

  “That’s one thing I don’t do, Disco. Give up.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “You gave up on Elle, didn’t you?”

  …

  Damn. She looked innocent enough, but she had sharp kitten claws hidden underneath all that glitter and hippie perfume. “It was… I didn’t give up on her. We just…didn’t mesh.”

  “Hmm. Mesh. Interesting choice of words.” She studied him intently, and he felt his neck grow hot, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from hers.

  “I think I know why she’s stalking you,” she announced.

  “Because she’s crazy. We’ve established that.”

  Mandy shook her head, tapping her finger on her chin. “Nope. She needs closure.”

  His mouth fell open. “Closure? Who are you, freaking Oprah?”

  Her lips curved into a smug smile that he really wanted to wipe off her face. With his own lips. Damn it, not again. He had to stop thinking about her like that. A car horn beeped behind him, and he realized the light had changed to green. He accelerated, telling himself to freaking focus on the road.

  “It’s basic relationship etiquette, Caleb. If you dump someone, you should at least try to do it respectfully.”

  He shot her a warning glare, no longer thinking about kissing. “I’ll remember that when I dump you.”

  “Whoa.” She put up a hand. “Maybe I’m going to be the one who dumps you.”

  “That’s not how this is gonna go down, Disco. I’m never the one who gets dumped.”

  She laughed. “First time for everything. Anyway, we don’t have to figure that out right now. I’m sure it will just, you know, happen organically or whatever.”

  As he parked in front of J.T.’s house, a surge of adrenaline shot through him. Everything in him wanted to argue with Mandy. She was not going to dump him, and he was not going to dump her.

  Wait, what?

  Not yet—that’s what he meant. Nobody was dumping anyone yet. Not until they both got what they wanted. Although right now he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

  “You could try it again,” she chattered, “breaking up with her. But make sure you’re prepared this time. Write down a list of why you two didn’t mesh.” She glanced at him, and he thought her cheeks darkened with the hint of a blush but he wasn’t sure. “Do it reasonably. Calmly. Thank her for the time you spent togeth—”

  He snorted with laughter. “You’re crazy, you know that, right? Tell me about the last time somebody broke up with you and did it reasonably. I bet all your exes ran away screaming.”

  “Way to treat your girlfriend, Caleb. Really nice.” She reached to open the passenger door, but it stuck. He leaned over her to open the door, looking down into her wide eyes.

  “The way I see it,” he said, drinking in her definitely blushing cheeks and fluttering eyelashes, “as of right now, you’re still my girlfriend. Nobody’s dumped anybody.” He had her caged in, like a butterfly trapped under glass. Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip, shooting lightning bolts of desire through his body. “So instead of talking about who’s dumping who, maybe we ought to put our energy somewhere else.”

  “L-like where?” Her voice was barely a whisper, and her gaze darted to his mouth.

  “Like convincing everyone we’re for real, not fake.” He leaned in closer, his lips just millimeters from hers. “We need to sell it. So kissing might be a good place to start.”

  Her eyelids fluttered like panicked butterflies. “B-but there’s no one around that we need to convince.”

  In spite of her words, she arched toward him, and if there was one thing he was good at reading besides books, it was body language.

  “Practice makes perfect, Disco.” He closed his eyes and brushed his lips across hers, barely making contact, but it was enough to light him up inside. He wanted more. A lot more. Fake, real, whatever the hell this was, he wanted more.

  “W-we’re late,” she whispered against his lips, torturing him. “We should go inside.”

  He opened his eyes, staring into hers, looking for answers to a question he couldn’t put into words.

  “Fine. Whatever.” He jiggled the handle and flung the door open, then dragged his body away from hers. She blinked rapidly, then jumped out of the car and slammed the door closed.

  He ran a hand through his hair, remembering how she’d arched her body toward his, and how she’d stammered. Maybe she was confused, too, about what was real and what was fake.

  One thing was for sure. Before this fake gig was over, he was going to kiss her.

  For real.

  …

  Once inside J.T.’s house, Mandy made a beeline for the basement staircase. Caleb was fast, though; she could feel him following her down the stairs like a shadow she couldn’t shake. Everyone looked up as they entered the chaotic room full of blaring music and laughter.

  J.T.’s observant gaze swept over them. “There you are. We thought you got lost.”

  Mandy practically flew across the room to Cammie, whose sparkling eyes danced with speculation. Cammie leaned in and whispered, “I can’t tell if you want to kill Caleb or kiss him.”

  “Me either,” Mandy whispered back. “That’s why I ran over to you.”

  Cammie snorted and handed her a soda. “Take a drink. Pretend he’s not here.”

  “Right. Like that’s even possible.” Mandy sucked down the soda, grateful for the cool liquid because her body was on fire after that almost-kiss. She had to focus.

  I can do this. I’m a leader. I’m not distracted by what was almost the hottest kiss of my life. “Okay everyone,” she said loudly to be heard over the music. “Let’s get to work.”

  …

  Caleb sat on the floor surrounded by chattering cheerleaders, praying for the sweet release of death, or at least a coma so he didn’t have to listen to them. Then again, at least they were a distraction from how much he wanted to drag Mandy out of here, back to his car, where they could finish what they’d almost started.

  “Where can we hide this lava lamp?” asked a perky brunette who kept rubbing up against Caleb. She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Maybe you’ll be the one to find it during the scavenger hunt. For your bedroom.” She leaned into him, and he caught the smell of grape bubble gum.

  He hated grape.

  “My bedroom’s fine the way it is,” he grumbled.

  The cheerleader put her hand on his chest. “I’ll bet it is. Maybe you can show it to me sometime.”

  Caleb sighed and glanced across the room toward Mandy, who was surrounded by a huge group of spirit freaks digging through their own box of weird seventies crap they planned to hide around the school. She’d divided everyo
ne into teams and they all had assignments for decorating.

  Mandy caught his eye, then her gaze took in the cheerleader whose hand was moving south down Caleb’s chest. Mandy arched her eyebrows, looking exactly like a pissed-off real girlfriend. Caleb grabbed the girl’s hand and moved it back to the lava lamp, but Mandy had turned away.

  The cheerleader sighed next to him. “So you and Mandy are a thing, huh? For real?”

  He frowned, aware that everyone in his group had stopped chattering to hear his answer. They stared at him like he was an alien species, which he figured he was since they inhabited totally different orbits at school.

  “We’re…yeah.” He didn’t even need to say a complete sentence because the cheerleaders pounced on him like kittens with a toy mouse.

  “So you’re taking her to homecoming?” the brunette demanded, apparently relinquishing her desire to maul him. “Right?”

  “Are you doing a prom-posal?” a blonde asked, tilting her head like a little bird. “She’d love that.”

  A girl with coal-black dreads nodded enthusiastically. “She totally would. I mean, lots of us have already gotten ours, so you should hurry up. It’s only two weeks away. Make sure you do it right.”

  What. The. Hell. How was he going to get out of this? Tell them that he wasn’t really her boyfriend, that Gus was the one who needed to come through with the big prom-posal? The thought of that made his gut clench.

  “I…uh…it’s not really my style,” he muttered, hoping they’d drop the issue. He pulled an old album out of the box his group was sorting through. The Bee Gees. Great. What a bunch of girlie guys. They even sounded like girls when they sang.

  He slid the record out of the album cover and stared at the grooves on the record, then glanced up into the determined dark eyes of his prom-posal pusher. She wasn’t giving up.

  “We could give you some ideas,” she chirped, and all the other girls perked up, scooting closer to him.

  “But it’s not even prom,” he protested. “It’s just homecoming.”

  They stared at him like he spoke a foreign language, then they all started talking at once.