Heartbreaker Hanson

by Melanie Marks

  I even hear a CRUNCH.

  CHAPTER 40

  ***RIDER***

  RIDER

  “Yo, Daisy. Wait up.” I pull off my backpack as hurry to catch up to her in the student parking lot.

  I’ve been trying for weeks now to get the chick to go out with my hockey teammate, Jake Edwards. Jake will give me his sweet tickets to the professional hockey game if I can get her to go out with him. I need to be able to see that game or I’ll die. I mean, I have seats to it already, but the tickets he scored—well, I’m chasing after Daisy for them. Big time. The thing is though, she won’t give Jake the time of day. And she’s taken to flipping me whenever I even suggest she go out with him.

  She gives me an impatient glance now as I catch up to her. But she lets me catch up to her. That’s the thing—she likes the attention, even if she can’t act like she likes it.

  “Looking good, Daisy,” I tell her. “You had my good friend and teammate, Jake, losing his mind.”

  She gives me a flirty smile, “How ‘bout your mind?”

  Suddenly, I’m distracted. Because I hear a sound behind me. The sound of my backpack being run over. Well, I figure that out when I turn and see it happening.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “Man.”

  “Okay,” I tell Daisy. “I’ll have to get back to you, ‘cuz my laptop was just annihilated.”

  “Oh,” she makes a sympathetic sound. It makes me turn back to her. “If you want to make me feel better you can go out with my friend, Jake.”

  She flips me off, but she gives me a sympathetic little tilt to her lips.

  “Okay, so you’ll get back to me on that. Thanks.” Then I trot over to see the damage done to my belongings. But I stop in my tracks when I see who wiped-out my stuff. ‘Cuz it’s my kindergarten girlfriend.

  Brooke looks up at me apologetically when I bend over to examine my decimated backpack.

  “Rider?” she gasps. “Was that yours?”

  I look up from my backpack and get lost in her worried pretty eyes. Slowly, I nod.

  She groans. “I’m so sorry.”

  I grin weakly. She’s so cute. “Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have abandoned it there like that. That was dumb.”

  I pick up my wounded backpack, and see that she’s quite alarmed when it makes a lot of noise—you know, the laptop pieces. They kind of rattle around. Crunching. Not a good sign.

  Her big pretty eyes widen in distress. “What do you have in there?”

  I don’t want to show her.

  I quickly unzip my backpack and peek inside to examine the damage. Unfortunately, I see my mangled laptop and cringe. She must have noticed. She begs/coaxes, “What’s in there?”

  Finally I show it to her.

  She winces and her face gets all white, yet blotchy. “I’ll pay you back. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Everything on it is backed up on my key-drive. And the laptop was a gift that I shouldn’t have accepted. So, really you did me a favor. No more guilt.”

  I grin, since ironically she looks guilty. “—well, no more guilt for me.” I grin again, “Thank you.”

  She doesn’t look convinced that I’m not crying on the inside.

  She exhales deeply. Then she blurts out, “Okay,” she takes another big breath, “I’ll help you get her.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Who?”

  “Daisy—waitress chick. The girl you want. She was who you were talking about that night, right?”

  No. I’d been talking about her—Beautiful Brooke. But I clear my throat and say, “Right.” Because I’d like her to go on with her plan—her “helping” me. It intrigues me.

  Brooke’s eyelids close and she swallows. Then she does this cute little head shake, like whatever she was just thinking about bugs her and she’s trying to shake it away. Finally she opens up her pretty eyes again and says determinedly, “You said she sees you as a heartbreaker—”

  “No. You said that.”

  “Okay—her. Me. Everybody. Same difference. Anyway, I’ll help you get her. I mean, I’ll pay you back for the laptop too. But just as a bonus, because I’m so sorry—I’ll help you get her.”

  I can’t help smiling. “You’ll help me—how exactly?”

  She swallows, though it’s more like a gulp. “We’ll—we’ll act like we’re dating. She’ll see you be nice to the poor girl whose best friend died. The poor, normal looking girl who isn’t super skinny, or insanely pretty or popular—just a normal girl, and yet you’ll be super romantic and nice to her, slash me. It will get Daisy’s heart melting and swooning to see you be so incredibly sweet. Then I’ll dump you. You’ll be totally heartbroken—in public. That way, she’ll see you differently. That you’re not a heartbreaker. In fact, you got your heart broken—by a totally normal, not gorgeous or super skinny, totally normal girl. She’ll hate on me for it, but she’ll love you.”

  I tilt my head. “You’d be willing to have her hate on you?”

  She shrugs. “I really don’t care what Daisy thinks.”

  Me neither.

  I cock an eyebrow. “So, we’re going to fake date?”

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. You don’t have to kiss me or anything.”

  “I’d like to kiss you.”

  She turns red but chooses to ignore my words. Apparently dismissing them as “player” lines. (They’re not.)

  She goes on as if I didn’t say a word, “We can just hold hands and stuff.” She adds kind of dreamy, “You can tenderly touch my cheek and hair—girls eat it up when you do stuff like that. But what’s going to be the clincher is—you’re only going to do it to one girl for a while. One. Can you handle that?”

  I nod. “Absolutely.”

  I tell her this because, well—absolutely, I can do this. In fact, I want to so bad that I’m afraid she can tell and she’ll back out of her crazy plan seeing that she has it wrong. It’s not Daisy I want … it’s her.

  “Okay, sounds good,” I tell her quickly, trying to sound distracted rather than delighted. “I’ll text you later.”

  I tell her this as my friends swarm on me, but what I’m really thinking is: She digs me touching girls’ cheeks and hair?

  Man, this is going to be heaven.

  CHAPTER 41

  ***BROOKE***

  BROOKE

  Boys have become—obsessed.

  That’s sort of, slightly the reason I came up with my crazy deal to help Rider. I mean, face it: It seemed the easiest way to avoid obsession was to date a heartbreaker. I mean, no chance of him becoming obsessed, right? Fat chance of that.

  Another huge plus was: Drew would see me with Rider—that would help him “give up” since he had basically said he couldn’t. The dude was a high-achiever; quitting wasn’t an option for him—usually. But he was going to have to face defeat this time—and I figured him seeing me with Rider would help him do that. Way easier than seeing me alone and pathetic, talking about him in my sleep and drawing pictures of him. (Groan.) No need to give him ammo—so yeah, I’d appear all entangled with Rider.

  All I had to worry about was keeping my heart in check through this … but at least I could also repay Rider, since I destroyed his laptop. So, it was like two birds with one stone—get rid of obsessed stalking boys and repay Heartbreaker Hanson. And I really, really didn’t care if he broke Stuck-up Daisy’s heart. Hey, more power to that.

  CHAPTER 42

  ***RIDER***

  RIDER

  We didn’t end up having hockey practice because our coach had to go in for an emergency root canal or something. The man is tough—but I’m pretty sure his wife likes his teeth. And he likes his wife, so he tries to keep her happy—like, by keeping his teeth and stuff. Otherwise, I don’t think he would really care about them. Or the pain. He just cares about hockey. (Well, that’s the way it seems, but he’s a coach. They like to drill it in—hockey, hockey, hockey.) (I’m all for that.)

  Jake looked at me all hopeful when he saw me i
n the locker room. “Talk to Daisy for me?” he asked.

  “I’m working on it,” I told him.

  Griffin Piper just smiled. He says Daisy wants to work on me. I ignore it because I really want the tickets—and Brooke.

  “So, no hockey practice?” I ask, confirming with Griffin. He’s our team captain.

  He nods, “No hockey practice.” Then he grins, “How’s it going with Kindergarten Girlfriend?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “It’s looking up, actually. Despite that there are lies about me on the girls’ bathroom walls.”

  Griffin grins, “Are they lies?”

  I still. “You knew about them?”

  He shrugs, looking amused. “Ally’s a girl. She uses those rooms sometimes.”

  Ally’s a nice girl. I like her a lot. I rub my chin, more than a little perplexed. “She let the lies stay up?”

  Griffin laughs slightly. “Again, are they lies?” Then he says, “Sorry dude, Ally demands they stay. She says girls need to know.”

  “Know what exactly?”

  His grin quirks. “That you’re in love with your kindergarten girlfriend and have not been able to love anyone else.”

  I thump my head against my locker. “It says all that on the walls?”

  Griffin shrugs, his grin twitching. “You have to read between the lines.”

  “I’m kind of pissed that there are lines at all.”

  “No you’re not. Just suck it up and get your girl.”

  I exhale. “Yes sir, Captain.”

  CHAPTER 43

  ***RIDER***

  RIDER

  So, yeah, hockey practice got cancelled.

  When I went back out to the parking lot, Brooke was still sitting in Nick’s car, her head pressed against the steering wheel.

  I smiled slightly. She seemed to feel so bad about the laptop, but really I felt all kinds of angst using the thing. It seemed the rich lady that had given it to me had expected some sort of big (aka: sordid) thank you from me. The whole thing left me uncomfortable.

  Now it was taken care of. Kind of like the hand of God stepping in. Or something. Of course his sending Brooke over to do his work was very nice. I must have done something right. At some point in my life. Not necessarily the one where I accepted the laptop, but hey, it would have been ungracious not to accept it … right? I really didn’t know. But whatever. The object brought Brooke to me. Thank you, rich lady. Or God. Or both. Everyone.

  CHAPTER 44

  ***BROOKE***

  BROOKE

  I sat in Nick’s car a long time. I mean, running over someone’s laptop didn’t help calm my nerves or give me a boost of confidence in my driving abilities.

  I was all full of angst. It had my stomach in knots. First of all, there was … well, you know it all. The psycho move Drew pulled, breaking into my house—and Kenny totally stalking my entire life, and, well, all the rest. And NOW—on top of all that—I ran over Rider’s laptop. His laptop! And he wasn’t even mean about it. At all. In fact, he was nice. Nice!!

  I really shouldn’t have made that deal with him—the one where I’m going to be spending hordes of time with him, having him look into my eyes and caress my cheek (dreamy sigh). That was so a stupid move. My mushy heart is going to get clobbered. And I volunteered it.

  I thump my head on the steering wheel and moan.

  “Need a ride?”

  I jerk my head up. Then my body goes up in flames—because it’s Rider. Of course. He would catch me like this—banging my head on a steering wheel. Grumble.

  “No, I don’t need a ride,” I mumble. “I’m waiting for Nick.”

  His grin grows. “You could just get a ride with me—start on that deal you cooked up. In fact, I could touch your cheek right now.”

  He goes like he’s actually going to do it—touch my face. I yelp and lurch away from him.

  His brow quirks quizzically, though he’s got a grin on his gorgeous lips that he’s trying to hide.

  I quickly explain, “No need to do it now—save it for in public.”

  He looks around. “It’s public.” Then he adds, “Also, it seems like maybe you need practice.”

  Heat swamps my cheeks. “Practice standing still?”

  “And letting me touch you—yeah.”

  In kindergarten he kissed my ear once. It had been after he had come over to my house and we were painting in my backyard. His mom had arrived to pick him up, and when my mom called out to him that his mom was here, he said, “Okay,” and he got up to leave, but when my mom went back into the house, he turned back to me really fast and said, “I forgot to do this,” and then he kissed me on the ear. Then he had sauntered away, having totally rocked my kindergarten world.

  It’s funny that I’m thinking of that now.

  But I guess he is too. Because a lazy smile spreads on his lips. “I kissed your ear.”

  I nod. “Yes. You did.”

  He laughs a little. “That’s not where I was aiming. I was nervous.” Then he says softly, “I’ll do better this time.”

  No way. Nothing could be better than that kiss.

  But that’s not what I tell him. Instead I announce quickly, “No way, buck-o. There will be no kissing.”

  His grin quirks upward. “Aw, come on. I need to prove to you I’ve improved since kindergarten.”

  “You can’t. Because you didn’t.”

  Geez, why am I so snappy with him? He’s just playing around. Chill, Brooke.

  I duck my head. “Sorry, I’ve just had a bad week.”

  “Oh that’s right. Someone blindfolded you and kissed you.” He says it like it’s equal to having a cup of tea. But then he asks huskily, “Did you like it?”

  My face goes up in flames.

  He arches an eyebrow. “Okay, you did. I’ll have to remember that.”

  “No! Never do that to a girl—unless you want her to press charges against you and put you in jail.”

  He grins and juts his chin, “Is that what you’re going to do to the guy?”

  When I don’t answer, he does it for me, “No, you’re not. And I can tell by the look on your face that it was your quarterback. I can also tell he blew it—so that’s a bright spot for me. Almost feels as good as winning at hopscotch—by the way, is that little poem about me off the bathroom wall?”

  I quickly change the subject. “Touch my cheek.”

  This surprised noise comes from the back of his throat, but his rough hands come gently on my face almost immediately. Mmmm. This is not going to end well for me. Because electrical sparks skitter through my entire body from his touch, and heated stare. Holy smokes! I’m on fire.

  “Well-well,” Daisy says coming up to us with an incredulous smirk. She huffs, “I just saw your text from earlier, Rider, begging me to talk to you. But apparently I should leave you two love-birds alone.”

  “Okay,” Rider murmurs all dreamy-like and soft, his love-struck eyes still glued to mine.

  Wow.

  When she’s gone, I finally let out my breath that I hadn’t even realized I was holding. “Whoa, you’re good at that,” I tell him, stunned and amazed. (And still on fire.)

  “Thanks.” Then he says, “Good at what?”

  “Faking love.”

  “Oh, that.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, faking.”

  I’m still trying to catch my breath, and my heart is still pounding wild just from the memory of his spectacular touch and his warm stare, though his hands are now in his pockets, and he seems kind of amazed at what he did with them.

  He leans towards me. “My heart’s pounding hard.” He grins, “—and that was just from touching your cheek.” He leans even closer, “What if I’d touched your lips?” I hold my breath, for a moment thrilled/terrified thinking he might, but it just makes him grin. He says with a teasing gleam in his eyes, “I probably would have died. My heart would have exploded. Is that why you have this no kissing rule? You kill boys with your kiss?”

  “Yes, it’s my su
per-power.”

  “That, and drawing me to you like a magnet with your eyes,” he murmurs.

  FLIRT!!

  I roll my eyes. “Dude, you didn’t even look at me in the last eight years.”

  “I looked,” he counters. But then he grins, “But you were wearing glasses. It kind of disguised your powers. Like Superman, when he puts on his glasses and becomes Clark Kent.”

  “Yeah,” I say dryly. “Big disguise—glasses.”

  “And you let your hair down.”

  He goes on, “And you kept smiling like you’d just been kissed.”

  I blink. “Did I?”

  He nods. “But I saw it happen. On the bus. Coach made me go to the math team meet as punishment. It wasn’t punishment watching you, though—until you said quarterback’s name in your sleep. And you made-out with him.”

  My heart slams against my chest. “I made-out with him?!”

  Rider breathes out a soft laugh. Then he cuts me some slack. “No. You woke up the minute his lips went on yours—and you lurched away from him like he was on fire.”

  He scratches his chin with a playful grin, “Of course he didn’t die from your kiss.” He says it musing-like since he had speculated my kiss kills boys.

  But then his grin twitches, “However, he seemed to die a little that you lurched away from him.”

  My heartbeat goes funny. “Did he?” I whisper.

  It’s weird talking with him like this. Learning he knows so much about me and my life—that he witnessed the single most astounding moment in my life.

  “But he’s blindfolded you since then,” Rider says sardonically, like to remind me not to get too mushy over the guy again.

  “Right,” I breathe.

  “How’s your friend taking all this?”

  I blink. “Laurie?”

  I’m kind of amazed to be talking to him about all this stuff. It’s kind of like he’s Rachel—an understanding friend. It’s amazing to me that he cares. That the heartbreaker has a heart.