St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

  I felt worthless. I couldn’t even paint a picture that appealed to people. I needed a boy like Ollie, who barely even came to school, to help me. What did that say about me? What did that say about my art? My dream?

  Students were patting me on the back and I was standing here having a full-blown freak out. I had to do something. I had to move. To think. To do something to shut down this one-woman pity party.

  I pushed forward, stopping in front of the display case, and my art teacher standing next to it.

  I held up my hand to get her attention. “Mrs. Meredith?”

  She looked at me, a huge grin on her face. “Congratulations, dear.”

  “Thank you. I, um, I guess I'm just a little confused.”

  She stepped closer to me so I wouldn’t have to shout over the crowd.

  “I know, dear. It's hard to work with another person, especially when you have a vision. But with good communication and a strong work ethic I'm sure everything will work out.”

  “No, it’s not that. I just, I thought you didn't like my paintings.”

  She grimaced. “I’m sorry about that. I guess I was a bit unclear before. This painting”—she gestured to my black jasmine flower floating against a brown background—“was the best of the group that we had to select from. That's not minimizing anything. That's telling you the truth. You’re very good for your grade level and experience. However, this internship is going to be comprised of youths from across the state. When judging your work against that pool of students.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry. I’d be hard-pressed to say you would measure up.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “Give this partnership a chance. Ollie may be rough around the edges, but you can learn a lot from him. That's one of the reasons he was placed in my class.”

  A ruckus broke out in the back of the crowd.

  “Whoa! Ollie just punched Clay Roman in the face,” some guy called out.

  I rolled my eyes and turned back to Mrs. Meredith.

  She grimaced. “Like I said. It's one of the reasons.”

  “I can't work with him,” I argued. “He's impossible.”

  She smiled softly and put one hand on my shoulder.

  “You know what they say. Impossible things happen every day.”

  I shook her hand off my shoulder. I was angry and confused and sad all at once. I didn’t need to feel pitied too.

  “Who says that?” I asked gruffly.

  Mrs. Meredith chuckled. “I don't remember. But it rhymes. I like that.”

  I frowned at her. How could she be so nonchalant about this? She'd just told me I sucked as a painter and paired me with Ollie for three weeks. Didn't she know how awful that was?

  “Mrs. Meredith!” Mr. Mann called. “A word.”

  “Coming!”

  Without a second look back at me, my art teacher was gone, leaving me to lick my wounds and watch Ollie get carted away by security.

  I sniffed back frustrated tears and started the long walk back to the class room to collect my things.

  One thing was for sure.

  I.

  Was.

  Screwed.

  6

  It was just the girls at lunch. The guys had decided to play a football scrimmage game instead of eating with us today. I guess the fact that it was mid-January and twenty degrees outside didn’t bother them.

  Boys.

  “Being part of Team Single sucks,” Sophia yelled over the noise of the lunchroom. “If I hear another ‘babe’ today, I’m going to barf.”

  “Totally,” Purity said.

  Sophia slapped her a high five. I chuckled. Being around Sophia infused me with a happy energy. Like I could hang out with her all day and never get bored.

  Ariel raised an eyebrow. “For the record, the only babes come from Bella and Cole. Eric and I don’t do the babe thing.”

  “No,” Sophia said. “You just get caught making out on every flat surface in the school.”

  “And the janitor’s closet,” Purity chimed in.

  “Once!” Ariel said. “That happened one time.”

  “The point is that it happened,” Sophia said. “And unless I’m involved in the aforementioned ‘making out,’ I’m going to be equal parts petty and jealous about it.”

  “Um… didn’t you make out with Brad Pullman yesterday?” I asked.

  Sophia swatted the comment away. “It was terrible. Therefore, it doesn't count.”

  We all laughed.

  “I feel like I’m part of some sad none making out club,” Purity said. “I need a new club.”

  Sophia threw her arm around her. “It's the worst club ever. And now we’re losing a member.” Sophia’s eyes went to me and I nearly choked on a piece of lettuce.

  “What?” I asked.

  Sophia’s gaze moved to Ariel.

  “You haven’t told her yet?” she asked.

  Ariel looked annoyed. “Not yet.”

  “Tell me what?” I asked.

  Ariel glared at Sophia briefly before turning back to me.

  “Well, in honor of your amazing win at the art show…” My friends all broke into cheers, and hoots. Bella pulled me into a side hug. “Which you totally deserved by the way, we coordinated a little surprise.”

  Uh-oh. I did NOT like surprises. Especially ones that came from my friends.

  “What kind of surprise?” I asked.

  Ariel’s eyes were an equal mix of excitement and nerves. “Don’t freak out, but Eric and Cole talked to Andrew Johnson today.”

  I gasped. This was exactly what I didn’t want. My friends playing matchmaker.

  I groaned.

  “Please tell me you didn’t embarrass me.”

  “No. Never. We never even mentioned your name.”

  I let out a breath of relief. “Good.”

  “But, the guys did ask him to a small get-together at Eric’s house tomorrow night.”

  My entire body felt as if it were falling down a very deep hole. I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like it had caved in.

  “You did what?”

  Ariel looked at Bella for assistance, and Bella jumped in.

  “It’s just to hang out,” Bella said. “He didn’t mention you or anything. He just invited Andrew over. That’s it.”

  My entire body flushed with embarrassment. What if Andrew showed up and thought I had orchestrated this just to hang out with him? I’d be devastated.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded. A headache was forming behind my eyeballs.

  “Because we didn’t want you to freak out,” Ariel said. “Besides, we’re just hanging out. No pressure. You don’t even have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”

  “Of course I want to,” I hissed. I put my hands over my face. That was why I didn’t want my friends to know I liked someone. I knew they would do something like this. I just knew it.

  “You’re freaking out,” Ariel said. “Don’t freak out.”

  “Who is this guy?” Purity asked. “Is he the president's son or something?”

  Sophia shook her head while I continued to wallow in my despair. “No. It’s that weird guy who always introduces himself like this.” She sat up straight and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Andrew Johnson. Like the president.”

  Purity made a face. “That’s douchey.”

  Sophia agreed. “I know, right?”

  I groaned, letting them know I was still sitting there. They immediately looked remorseful.

  “Uh, to each his own?” Sophia said.

  I dropped my hands from my face and looked at my new friends.

  “Look, Andrew may not be a football player or some lothario, but he’s a nice guy who comes from a nice family, and… and I’d appreciate it if everyone was nice to him at the party.”

  Ariel smiled. “So, you’re going?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I’m going.”

  The group screamed and crowded around to hug me.

  “Just please don�
�t embarrass me,” I said.

  “Of course not,” Bella said.

  “Let’s make it a bikini party!” Sophia cried.

  I shook my head. “No bikinis.”

  “Skinny dipping party?”

  I sighed. A piece of me was excited to hang out with Andrew, but another piece of me knew my friends were going to try way too hard to make sure this party ended with sparks flying.

  That was the scariest part.

  The lunch bell rang, and we all stood up, grabbed our trays, and started filing out with the rest of the crowd.

  A wall of huge windows to my right showed us a view of the parking lot, a small sitting area, a red dumpster, and the fence that surrounded the school property.

  A few of Oliver’s friends, blue-haired Jean, big boy Able, and goatee wearing Jeff were sitting on the dumpsters, smiling and laughing, but Ollie wasn’t with them.

  Had he gone home? Was he suspended? Did he quit school for good?

  I knew he blamed me for the art show, even though I didn’t know why. He’d won with a picture he’d invested three minutes into drawing. What did he care if anyone else saw it?

  I guess he was just being his typical dramatic, hot-headed self.

  Still, as I walked to my next class, I had a hard time focusing.

  Did I want Oliver to never come back to school, or did I want Oliver to help me with the mural?

  On one hand, I could do the mural myself. That alone would give me a big confidence boost I so badly needed right now.

  On the other hand, Ollie was talented, and his drawings were inspiring. He was a jerk, but I was sure he would make the mural memorable.

  There was so much to think about that it felt like my brain was splitting in half.

  I pushed it out of my mind. I decided it really didn’t matter if Ollie came back or not.

  Either way, I would finish the mural.

  That was the only win I needed.

  Wasn’t it?

  7

  “I know how you can make up for ruining my life with the art show.”

  Ollie slid into his seat in art the next morning, a spark in his eye as if he’d just figured out the meaning of life.

  I crossed my arms. I wasn’t in the mood for his games today. My parents had been up all night screaming at each other. Finally, at one in the morning, I walked out and told them it was time for bed.

  That little display got me threatened with grounding, but they went to their separate rooms after that, allowing me to get some much-needed rest.

  Apparently not enough, though, because I was exhausted.

  “I had nothing to do with your picture being entered. That was all Mrs. Meredith.”

  “I spoke to Mrs. Meredith. She said you plucked it out of the trash. That makes you an accomplice.” He said it with such authority I couldn’t help but shake my head in disbelief. I could tell he’d been thinking about this for a while.

  “What do you want, Ollie?”

  He turned his entire body toward me, staring deep into my eyes. “Tell Mr. Mann you don’t want me helping with the mural. Tell him I’m a menace. That I throw off your creative flow. Whatever. Just get me out of this painting thing.”

  He held my gaze, willing me to give him what he wanted.

  An out.

  I tried not to think about how nice his eyes were. They were so black it was like staring into a tiny galaxy.

  “So, you want me to tell Mr. Mann the truth?” I asked.

  His expression softened in relief.

  “Yes. Tell him whatever you want.”

  “Ollie, I… I can’t do that.”

  His hand covered mine, and my entire arm felt like it had just been lit on fire. I pulled away quickly and glared at him to keep him from seeing my alarm.

  “Please, Princess. I can’t be seen painting a school mural. My reputation would be ruined.”

  “There's more to life than getting into fights and skipping class.”

  He ignored my comment, continuing his plea. “I am begging you. Please talk to Mr. Mann for me.”

  I bit my lower lip in thought. What was I holding on so tightly to Ollie for, anyway? If he didn’t want to paint the mural, he shouldn’t be forced to. And, honestly, I’d probably paint faster without him.

  Yet, there was some small voice deep inside me that said this would be good for Ollie. And for me. Mrs. Meredith’s said I could learn a lot from him. What if this was the key to improving my painting? I didn’t want to give up my chances at that summer internship just because I didn’t like this guy. Students didn’t have to like teachers, did they?

  I sighed.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

  His gaze turned icy, chilling my entire body.

  “Why?”

  “I think this could be good for you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know you’re failing in every academic aspect of your life.”

  “And painting on a wall is going to help that?” He said it with such derision that my stomach clenched.

  “For me, painting calms and focuses me. Maybe this project will do the same for you.”

  “If I wanted a shrink, I could find one that has an actual degree. Not some girl with a crush.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  “What? I don’t have a crush on you.”

  “Sure, you don’t.” He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

  I didn’t have a crush on Ollie. In fact, that was the furthest feeling I felt for him.

  “I mean it. I don’t like you like that.”

  “Well, the way you stare at me tells a different story, Princess.” He scowled. “Is that what this is about? You’re trying to keep me close because you think I’ll fall for you? Newsflash. I don’t date uptight princesses.”

  “And I don’t date losers.”

  “Then we’re even.”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  My blood was boiling. My heart was racing. How could he accuse me of such a thing? Was he insane? Ollie was not my type. I didn’t date boys who didn’t have their lives together. Ollie would drag down my life, just like he dragged me down in class. I could never crush on a boy like that. No matter how nice his eyes were.

  We sat in silence for the remainder of this class. Me finishing shading yet another egg while Ollie did whatever Ollie did during school hours. When the bell rang, I nearly flung myself out of my seat, desperate to get away from him.

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Princess,” he said, picking up his bag. “Just talk to Principal Mann and tell him you want me off this wall project. Then I’ll be free, and you can forget about me.” He grinned, as if he’d accomplished something. “If you can.”

  Then, he sauntered out of the room.

  I was so angry that my hair felt like it was about to burst into flames. Of all the cocky, arrogant, self-indulgent…

  I stormed after him, ready to give him a piece of my mind, when I walked into a wall of lean muscle. I nearly fell backward, but two strong hands held me upright. I looked up.

  Straight into the eyes of Andrew Johnson.

  “We have to stop bumping into each other like this,” he said with a grin.

  He must’ve noticed my pissed off expression because his expression turned serious.

  “Are you all right?”

  I shook my head, still trying to get my emotions in order.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. Is someone bothering you?”

  “No.”

  “Positive? Let me know and I can handle them.”

  I looked over Andrew and wondered how he’d match up to Ollie. They were both tall and strong, but Ollie seemed like he’d been fighting since birth while Andrew looked like he’d never gotten into a fight a day in his life.

  “Really. I’m fine,” I said. “It’s just been a long day.” I adjusted my books in my hand
and leaned on my hip, still flustered.

  “Well, I’m not one to leave a damsel in distress. How about I walk you to class? I couldn’t call myself a gentleman if I didn’t.”

  I should have been swooning over Andrew’s offer, but I was still so angry at Ollie that it made thinking about Andrew difficult right then.

  I let out a deep breath and focused on the beautiful specimen of man standing in front of me. I would not allow Ollie to ruin my chances with Andrew like he ruined everything else in his life.

  “Sure,” I said. “I’d like that.”

  Andrew held out his arm. I took it and allowed him to escort me down the hallway.

  He wasn’t kidding about being a gentleman. He was practically a knight in shining armor.

  Unlike some other people.

  Halfway down, I spied Ollie leaning against his locker, laughing at the Able and Jean. He caught me looking and winked. Or at least started to wink. His gaze raked over me and Andrew’s joined arms and something dark passed over his expression. Something that made my insides do somersaults.

  I turned up my nose and leaned closer to Andrew.

  This felt good. It felt right.

  And if Ollie thought I had a crush on him, he was obviously more deluded than I thought.

  8

  Bella, Ariel, Purity, Sophia, Cole, and Eric surrounded me at lunch. They were all staring at me like I was a sideshow attraction, making me squirm in my seat.

  “So, are you ready?” Bella asked.

  Ready to hang out with Andrew tonight? No.

  Nervous beyond measure? Yes.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Ariel put her hand over mine. “Just remember there’s no pressure. Eric and Cole are going to talk to him about whatever guys talk about and they won’t steer him in your direction unless you give them the signal.”

  This was getting embarrassing. Now we had to learn secret signals during an “informal” get-together. I knew this would happen. My well-meaning friends would turn into yentas. I wished I’d never even mentioned Andrew.

  “Guys, I don’t need signals,” I said as calmly and nicely as I could manage. “Can’t we just act normal?”