Her body was on fire standing this close to him. The sudden desire to kiss him overwhelmed her. She swallowed and stepped back.
“One peek. Then you have to leave.” This was crazy, but the idea of him thinking about her in her bedroom late at night…well, apparently she had no willpower about some things.
He followed her down the short hallway and into her bedroom, lit only by the string of amber lights draped over her bookcase and the orange glow of the lava lamp next to her bed.
“Wow,” he whispered. “It’s like a shrine to the seventies.” He stood next to her, his arm brushing hers, setting every nerve ending on fire.
She followed his gaze as he lazily surveyed the posters on the wall—posters that had been her mom’s—of Earth, Wind & Fire and Blondie and the Bee Gees. Posters of the old Soul Train TV show and American Bandstand. He took in the packed bookshelf and shot her an approving smile, then his gaze moved to her bed, which was a tangled mess of blankets and pillows, and she thought she might melt into a pool of mortification.
At least she hadn’t left any underwear lying on the floor.
“So you’ve seen it. You can go now.” She moved away, but his hand reached out to grab hers.
“Wait,” he said, his voice low, making every hormone in her body do cartwheels and backflips. He reached out and tipped up her chin with his other hand, his fingers grazing her throat.
The room wasn’t so dark that she couldn’t tell his eyes were burning up. Just like she felt.
“We need to talk,” he said, his fingers brushing down her neck and sending shivers shooting straight to her girl parts.
For once, talking was the last thing she wanted. But that was crazy…mixed up…not right.
Or was it exactly right?
“W-we do?” she whispered, licking her lips. He swallowed, then grasped her waist, pulling her in close, his other hand cupped around the back of her neck.
“It can wait,” he said roughly, then his lips were on hers, and just like the last time she was gone…drowning in a sea of Caleb, in surging waves of hot, urgent kissing, his tongue dancing with hers, his body molded to hers, her throat making sounds that were embarrassing, but only made him kiss her harder, deeper.
Her hands moved of their own accord, trailing up his chest, his neck, and into his glorious rebel hair. She tugged her fingers through it, reveling in the silky, tangled strands, and now he was the one making embarrassing sounds and moving against her body in a way that made her understand why Gran insisted on leaving the door open.
Fake? Real? She had no idea what this was…which meant she should stop, even though she didn’t want to. She untangled her fingers from his hair and pushed gently on his chest, wrenching her lips away from his.
“Stop. We have to stop.” It sounded like she was talking more to herself than to him.
He didn’t let her go, staring down at her with stormy dark eyes. “Why?”
She swallowed, staring up at him. A girl could totally forget her own name staring into those eyes. “Uh, we…well, because this isn’t…we aren’t…”
“Aren’t what, Disco?” He kept one hand wrapped around her waist and brushed loose curls off her burning cheeks with the other.
“Y-you said we have to talk. What about?”
His hand stilled on her cheek, then dropped to his side. He sighed heavily. “Yeah. So…don’t freak out, but I sort of told Gus that we’re going to homecoming together.”
She stepped back, and this time he let go of her. She crossed her arms over her chest as warring emotions streaked through her—confusion, excitement, apprehension, suspicion. She couldn’t decide which feeling to focus on, but she knew the question she had to ask. “Why?”
His face hardened, and he was back to His Broodiness. “Because I don’t want you to go with him. I don’t like him.”
One emotion rose to the top from the messy pool swirling within her.
“What the hell, Caleb? Who put you in charge of my life?” The dreamy haze of their kiss dissolved as she lashed out, thinking of Kay’s lies about Gus, and how rude Cammie had been to Gus earlier tonight. What was wrong with people?
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You shouldn’t go with him.”
“But…but you didn’t even ask me to go the dance! You just made the decision for me because you don’t like him! And it’s totally the opposite of our plan, Caleb.”
His eyes narrowed. “So you still want to go with him? Even after…” He grimaced, and she knew he was referring to the kissing.
She flushed, embarrassed. He was right—how could she kiss him like that and still want Gus? Because of this stupid fake thing, that’s why. Because she’d lost sight of what was real and what wasn’t.
She made herself look into his eyes. “I’m not going to the dance with someone who didn’t even ask me.”
He stared at her long and hard. “Fine. I think we should give up our stupid plan.”
That felt like a slap. So apparently all the kissing was fake for him. Just something he did when he had a girl alone in her bedroom, a girl who lost all functioning brain cells once his lips touched hers.
“I think you’re right. It was always a dumb idea.” She tossed her hair over her shoulders, determined not to show how hurt she was. “Guess you’re stuck with your stalker.”
He shrugged. “Nope. She got closure, just like you said. She’s not gonna be an issue anymore.”
“Perfect,” she said, baring her teeth in what she hoped was an I’m-done-with-you smile. “Then we’re done.”
They glared at each other, and Mandy’s mind reeled, wondering how they’d gone from another snow globe night to that toe-curling kissing to this.
Because it’s not meant to be. Because the universe doesn’t support fake relationships.
“I’ll let myself out.” He turned and stalked out of her room.
When she heard the front door close, she sank onto her bed and curled up in a ball, trying to make sense of what had just happened, because the hole in her heart definitely felt real, not fake.
Chapter Nineteen
Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
Wednesday, September 28
Caleb watched the cheerleaders swarm Mandy’s locker the next day, shooting him dagger eyes. Word of their fake breakup had spread like wildfire. Today might be a good day to ditch, because he sure as hell didn’t want to be here dealing with this crap.
“Dude,” J.T. said, sidling up to him. “What the hell? I thought you were moving in for the kill, not trashing everything.”
Caleb slammed his locker shut and glared at J.T. “You can leave me alone now, Blue Ranger. The fake gig is over.”
J.T. ignored him, keeping pace as they moved down the hall, past Mandy’s locker and the escalating whispers as they passed.
“Just tell me this,” J.T. said. “Who dumped who?”
Caleb hesitated, trying to recall the argument. “Uh…I think it was mutual.” Wasn’t it? They’d both been pissed off. It had been crazy, after that hot-as-hell kiss. He still couldn’t believe things had derailed so fast.
“Was it because you didn’t do a prom-posal for homecoming? Dude, that’s like mandatory.”
They’d reached their Spanish classroom. It was weird how many classes they shared. He hadn’t really noticed before.
“No,” Caleb growled. That wasn’t it, was it? She’d been angry that he hadn’t asked her, that he’d just told Gus they were going. “I was trying to protect her. Gus asked me if we were going to homecoming together, so I said we were. So that he wouldn’t ask her.”
They found seats in the back of class, and J.T. shook his head in disgust. “You should’ve asked her first, Red Ranger. Done the prom-posal thing and swept her off her feet. She totally would have said yes and Gus would’ve backed the hell off.”
Caleb shot him a glare. “I panicked, okay?”
J.T. smirked at him, then glanced at their teacher, who was focusing on the gir
l in the front row who didn’t know the difference between saltar and soltar. Caleb definitely knew the difference, because soltar meant to let go, something he was apparently struggling with.
J.T. leaned sideways out of his chair and whispered, “Was there more kissing? Between the panicking and the breakup?”
Caleb stared into his crazy green and blue eyes. Freaking wingman. “Yeah,” he muttered. “But it didn’t matter.”
J.T. sat up straight in his chair when their teacher darted a suspicious glance in their direction. “Kissing always matters,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. “Trust me.”
A few minutes later, a piece of paper landed on Caleb’s desk. He sighed and rolled his eyes, then unfolded the note.
Prom-posal Making 101. My house. Saturday. 2:00. You still have time to save your ass. And hers.
No way. He and Mandy were done. He drew a huge X through J.T.’s words and tossed it back. He heard J.T.’s disgusted snort but refused to make eye contact with the Blue Ranger.
He wasn’t just done with Mandy, he was done with her posse, too. It was time to work on his soltar moves, and let go.
…
Mandy felt like she was sleepwalking through her day. She heard the whispered remarks and felt the stares as everyone speculated as to why she and Caleb had broken up. Fake broken up, she reminded herself.
At lunch, she ate by herself under a tree by the soccer field, ignoring Cammie’s and J.T.’s worried text messages. She needed to regroup, to center herself. She ate her sandwich and apple, not even tasting the food.
“Hey. You okay?”
She turned, shocked to find her brother staring down at her.
“Yeah,” she finally said, staring at him as if he was a mirage.
Reg sat on the grass next to her and grabbed her bag of chips, briefly reminding her of Caleb’s food-stealing. But she didn’t want to think about Caleb right now.
“I heard about you and Torrs. Sorry. Want me to beat him up?” Reg tore open the bag of chips and dumped half the bag into his mouth.
She smiled, almost cheered up by his ridiculous offer. “Violence is never—”
“…the answer. I know.” He chewed and swallowed, then frowned at her. “For real, Mandy. You sure you’re okay?”
She was so touched by his concern that she wanted to hug him, but she knew it would totally shatter the moment. “I’m fine. Actually, I broke up with him.” She had, hadn’t she? It was hard to remember exactly who had done the dumping. They’d both been upset.
Reg tilted his head, looking like a confused puppy. “Really? Wow. Didn’t expect that.” His expression morphed to a glare. “Did he try to, you know… Because I will totally kick his ass if—”
“No!” Mandy didn’t want Reg getting the wrong idea, not like everyone had about Gus. That was totally unfair. “We just…I don’t know…” No way could she tell him about the fake deal.
She thought about the kiss in her bedroom again, that kiss that had practically merged her soul with his…until he’d confessed his idiot move with Gus. She sighed. She’d definitely miss the kissing. And the bickering. The teasing. And that sweet side of him that nobody else saw.
“Shit,” Reg said. “You’re about to cry, aren’t you?”
She blinked, surprised to realize he was right. She swiped at the tears. Damn it, this was ridiculous. None of it had been real. None of it. Except maybe the tutoring. And that day in the park when they talked about their moms. And maybe the kissing?
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Okay, whatever you want.” Reg grabbed her water bottle and took a swig. “Hey, Dad texted me that Gran needs to get into the doc. Want me to set up the appointment and take her? I know you’ll be slammed with Spirit Week crap.”
Her mouth dropped open. Had somebody switched out Reg with a pod person overnight?
He scowled. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a total loser.”
“That’d be…fantastic, Reg. Really. Thank you.”
“Sure.” He shrugged and stood up. “Let me know if you change your mind about Torrs. He’s bigger than me but I could probably land one punch before he destroyed me.” He grinned, reminding her of the brother she used to know, and warm fuzziness unfurled inside her, chasing away her confusion and sadness about Caleb.
“You’re not a loser, Reg,” she said, meaning every word.
“Not all the time,” he said, then he flipped her a salute and sauntered away, leaving her to ponder a lot of things…like what was real, what was fake, and how people could change in surprising ways.
The universe is full of surprises.
…
Caleb decided to ditch calc, even though he was falling behind in that class. Whatever. He needed to be by himself and write, what he always did when he ditched. He remembered how he’d laughed when Mandy had asked if he did something illegal when he ditched. He shook his head to chase away the memory. He stalked across the parking lot, anxious to get the hell away from the same place Mandy was.
He was almost to his car when he saw them—Gus and some girl wound around each other so tightly they looked like one person. His fists clenched as he stared at them. He should take a picture with his phone, so Mandy would believe that Gus was a player. He thought of J.T.’s and Cammie’s recon and wondered if the girl was as on board with the escalating dry humping as Gus obviously was.
Shit. He didn’t want to get in the middle of this, but if Gus was—
The girl’s laughter skittered through the air as she tilted her head back, giving Gus access to the shirt he’d tugged out from her short skirt, his hands moving deftly underneath the fabric.
Okay, whatever was happening over there was definitely mutual. He huffed out a relieved sigh as he opened his car and slid inside. He started the engine, watching Gus and the girl through the windshield.
The realization hit him like a punch—maybe this meant that Gus wasn’t into Mandy, after all. He was shocked at the bolt of relief that shot through him, at the upsurge of…of…crap, was he actually feeling…hopeful?
He closed his eyes, and a kaleidoscope of images swirled through his mind—Mandy teasing him, arguing with him about her essay, holding his hand on the bench when he told her about his mom.
Kissing him like her life depended on it.
What he felt for her…it wasn’t fake. Not even close. He pulled out his phone and sent the text before he could wimp out.
2:00 Saturday. Your house.
J.T.’s reply flew back.
You’re on, Red Ranger. Bring peanut M&M’s cuz Blue Rangers don’t work for free.
Caleb tossed his phone into the passenger seat, smiling. As he reversed out of the parking space, he told himself that he didn’t care what the hell Gus was up to as long as he stayed the hell away from Mandy.
Chapter Twenty
I Want You Back
Saturday, October 1
Caleb sat at J.T.’s kitchen table drinking soda and eating popcorn while J.T.’s little sister danced around them, holding a poster covered with glitter and rainbows, and surprisingly decent printing that spelled out, Go to Prom with ME!
Mandy would love it.
“Nice, Mira,” J.T. said, “but Caleb needs to go big or go home, so we’re working on some other ideas here. Maybe you could go watch a movie or something.”
Caleb smirked as he watched J.T. try to rein in his irritation with his little sister. Mira was a cute kid, and she was freaking giddy about the whole prom-posal thing.
“But I helped you with one of Liam’s posters,” she protested. “I did the glitter and it was my idea to say ‘Liam, L I AM Yours.’”
Caleb cocked an eyebrow. “That was you? Give me some skin, Mira.” He held up a hand to high-five her. “Excellent wordplay.” She high-fived him, giggling and blushing, and J.T. shot a rubber band at him.
“Dude. Not with my sister. Save your flirting for Mandy.”
“I’m not flirting with your li
ttle sister. I’m acknowledging a fellow wordsmith.”
Mira giggled again, twirled in a circle, and ran out of the kitchen, still carrying her poster.
J.T. sighed, running a hand through his crazy blond hair. “We need to focus, Red Ranger.” He tore a page from his notebook and started writing. “Top three prom-posal criteria: one—it has to be personal, ideally something only you two would get. Like a secret joke or some special memory only you two know about.” J.T. cocked an eyebrow. “And keep it PG-13 since you’re doing this at school.”
Caleb scrubbed a hand down his face, wondering if this whole thing was a big mistake. He didn’t do big gestures or make scenes. It went against everything he believed in. He sighed and met J.T.’s steady gaze. “Whose criteria are these, anyway? Some girlie prom magazine?”
J.T. snorted and shook his head. “My criteria. And I know what the hell I’m doing, so pay attention.” J.T. grabbed a handful of M&M’s from the bag Caleb had brought. “So do you have any special memories? Secret jokes only you two would get?”
Caleb stared at the cluttered kitchen table, focusing on the salt and pepper shakers. Special memories? Secret jokes? The time at the park wasn’t something he could use in a prom-posal, and besides it was something he wanted to keep between them. He met J.T.’s narrowed stare.
“Other than the big secret of our entire relationship being fake, you mean?”
J.T. rolled his eyes. “But it wasn’t fake. Irony, man—you could write a paper on it.” J.T. doodled on the notebook page. “Maybe you could work something in, like ‘I was never faking with you, babe.’” His eyebrows danced suggestively.
“No,” Caleb growled. “That’s pathetic.”
“Okay.” J.T. shrugged. “We’ll think about that one later and move on to the next criterion: it has to be unique. You see all those guys showing up with cupcakes or flowers and a stupid sign asking girls to go with them? Total amateurs.” J.T. leaned back in his chair, looking smug. “Let’s use my outstanding prom-posal for Liam as our example.”
Resisting the Rebel Page 18
