When I pulled back, his eyes were intense and hot. I could happily have fallen back into him, but it was time to face reality.
“Let’s take stock of where we are.” I was ready to lay it out to get my bearings. I’d felt like I’d been swirling around inside a tornado since last night.
“Sounds like a good idea.” Grady nodded.
“To avoid suspension… One of us has to perform in front of the whole school. And one of us has to write a few amazing, inspiring articles.”
“Correct.”
“And it just so happens that one of us is an amazing guitar player and singer and one of us is a not half-bad writer.”
Grady frowned.
I shrugged. “The way forward seems pretty simple.”
“It’s not that simple,” Grady growled.
Okay, yeah. I had sensed some friction between Grady and Miss Carver, but he would have to get over it. Because I could not sing in front of an audience. Especially not the whole school.
“Do you remember what I told you my worst nightmare is?”
“Losing your planner?”
“Singing in front of people. I’d rather jump out of an airplane, and I can assure you that’s never going to happen either.”
“Damn. I need someone to slap me because now I’m the one behaving like a cranky child.” Grady released a frustrated sigh and ran both hands over his face.
“I’m so glad you said it before I had to.” I fake punched him on his shoulder.
“I’ll perform.”
I took one of his hands in both of mine, threading my fingers between his while I searched his face for some hint of what was going on. “I guess I don’t understand why singing and playing guitar in the showcase is a problem for you. What’s going on?”
“It’s hard to explain,” he said.
“Please try. I really want to understand.”
His gaze dropped away from mine, down to study our clasped hands. I watched his chest expand with a deep breath and for a second I was afraid he’d stay silent.
“Sometimes it feels like my life is one giant humble pie in the face after another.” His lips twisted like he was swallowing down something distasteful. “I guess pride is over-rated, but I feel like every time I’m offered something I need—or want—I have to let go of my pride to take it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Except with you.” He raised his gaze to mine. “I’m not sure if that even makes sense…”
“No. I get it. I think pride is part of why I’ve been clinging to my image of being perfect. Without it—what do I have to be proud of?”
“I could give you a long list.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t want to make this about me. All I’m saying is I think I understand a little of what you’re feeling. On a very small scale.”
The big difference was I knew I was loved and wanted. It wasn’t that my family excluded me, it was that I felt like I didn’t fit into their talented creative world.
Grady placed a kiss on my forehead.
“Back to you… I understand about your father and Barry and your mom, but I’m confused about singing in the showcase.”
“This will probably sound dumb, but it reminds me of what happened with my father. Pouring out my soul and hoping and begging for something in return. Anything. And getting rejected.” He took another big breath, like before you take a scary leap. “I’ve already poured my soul out in my music to these schools. I got rejected. So it feels like once again, I’ve got to toss aside my pride—and sing—beg—once more when I’ve already been told no.”
“Oh, Grady.” I reached out, placed my hands on his tense jawline, and pulled his head down to mine until our foreheads touched. “You’re like a deep beautiful ocean. And every storm you face reveals a new priceless piece of you.”
This time, I was the one to suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll sing.”
“No, Lace. I’ll sing. You write the articles.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I was totally willing, but it’s better for everyone if I don’t. Especially me.”
The bell rang, signaling the end of “A” lunch. The noise level around us ratcheted up as students began heading out.
Grady and I walked out the side door which dumped us into the stairwell. I had English on this floor and Grady had to head up to the second floor for statistics.
“Later, Trueheart.” He gave me a wink and started up the stairs.
“Hey,” I called. “How about I help you pick the song and you help me with the articles?”
“Deal. I’ll call you after I get out of practice.”
Maybe I was a naïve optimist, but just because Juilliard and the others had rejected him once, didn’t mean they couldn’t listen a second time and hear how amazing he was. I know Grady didn’t believe he had what it took, but I did. I could research to find a song that would best showcase his musical genius. And then convince the stubborn bad boy to play it, hoping he didn’t catch on to my plan. It could work.
25
Confess To a Life of Crime
Grady
Two Weeks Before the Talent Showcase
Dear Mr. and Ms. Jackalope,
I’m soooo bored. Every weekend it’s the same thing. Go see some retread movie and pay for overpriced popcorn. Or go to another lame party where we sit around talking about the retread movies we saw. I’m afraid I might die of boredom before I graduate high school. There must be something else! What can I do?
Signed,
Bored to Death
Dear Bored,
What can you do?? You, my friend, are a lucky bunny! Fear not! There is something else!
The Jackson High Talent Showcase is only two weeks away! That means you have two opportunities for something fun and exciting!
Sign up to be in the showcase! Do you sing? Play an instrument? Polka dance? Juggle Jell-O? Your peers are dying to see it!
Too shy to show your talent? Buy a ticket to attend! Buy one for a friend too! Don’t be a four-sided equiangular rhombus! Come on out and support your fellow students and our award-winning band!
It’s going to be epic! We’ll be there! So, don’t be a dumb bunny! Buy a ticket today! And live to see your graduation.
C’mon, Get Hoppy,
Mr. and Ms. Jackalope
I knew what Lacey was doing. It started with a text from her late that night with a song suggestion for the showcase. And then another. And another. Looked like she was trying to pick a song that would show off my talent to the college recruiters in attendance. If she’d been standing in front of me, I’d hold her in my arms for being her sweet, optimistic self. It didn’t matter what song I played. The only reason I was playing at all was because Miss Carver was like a dog with a bone, but more importantly, so Lacey didn’t have to. I could kick my pride to the side for a few minutes for Lacey.
The next day after lacrosse practice, I hurried through my shower hoping to catch Lacey. I knew there was a small window of opportunity to see her after she finished tutoring but before she left school to volunteer at Shady Acres. Lucky for me, my timing was perfect and I found her out in the parking lot walking with Dax.
“Yo, DeLeon!” I called, getting their attention as I jogged toward them. “What are you doing with my girl?”
“Being her knight in shining armor and giving her a ride home.” He winked at Lacey.
“Your car is still out of service?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you ask me for a ride?”
“Dax is heading to Ali’s bowling meet, so he’s going right by my neighborhood,” she explained. “Besides, I thought your band was playing tonight, so you had to go to work.”
“Cancelled.” I shrugged. “The health department shut down the venue due to a cockroach infestation.”
“Yuck.” She shuddered.
“I thought you volunteered at the nursing home today?” She norma
lly headed straight there after she left school.
“Do you two actually talk?” Dax was walking between us, moving his head like he was at a tennis match. “It’s pretty helpful and actually fun. You should try it.”
Lacey leaned around Dax to explain. “It’s a last minute decision. Both my parents have a rare night off, so I’m heading home to confess. You know, about the B & E into the band hall and possible suspension. I haven’t told them yet.” She bit her lip. “I’m going to break it to them gently that I’ve turned to a life of crime.”
“You’re not quite a hardened criminal, but how about I drive you and we can tell them together. I should take half the heat since it was my idea.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” She blinked at me. “It’s not the best way to meet parents.”
“It’s probably not the first time Grady’s had to face a girl’s pissed off parents.” Dax laughed, then ducked out of reach. “Kidding. Now get out of here you two crazy kids. I’m going to watch my girl bowl.”
“Tell Ali good luck for me!” Lacey reached for my hand, and I steered us over to my car.
We told each other about our day on our drive to Lacey’s. It felt good to have someone in my life I cared about. Someone who cared about me.
“You’re just here for moral support,” Lacey said as we entered her house through the garage door. “You don’t have to say anything. And don’t take the blame. This is my deal.”
If she thought I was going to let her face the music alone, she didn’t know me very well.
“Mom. Dad. Do you have a few minutes? I need to talk with you about something.” She stood just inside the family room of their open floor plan with me right next to her. I was pretty sure she didn’t realize she had a death grip on my hand.
Both of her parents looked up with welcoming smiles. Her mom was curled up on a sleek, modern chair reading a book and her father sat in a big leather recliner with his laptop. I watched their gazes move from Lacey to me to our joined hands before rising back up. Mrs. Trueheart’s smile had grown bigger. Mr. Trueheart’s, not so much.
“Oh, this is Grady. Grady Burnett. You guys have sort of met when he called about my skip day.”
“Hello, Grady,” her mother said while her dad gave me a head nod. “Of course we have time.”
“Unless you’re about to tell us you’re running off to follow the Grateful Dead.”
“Ha ha, Dad.” Lacey tugged me over to sit next to her on the couch. And then nervous, talks-too-much Lacey jumped right in. “I need to tell you that last Friday night, during the basketball game, I broke into the band hall. It was irresponsible, and rash, and… and…”
“Ill-advised,” I prompted.
“Exactly! Ill-advised. Miss Carver, the band teacher, caught us in the act—”
“The act of what exactly?” Her dad’s voice held an ominous tone to match the deep frown on his face.
“Oh, um, well, Grady was playing the guitar and I was in the middle of…an air drum solo.” She bit her lip. “We had to meet with Principal Barstow Monday morning. I’m sorry to report that Principal Barstow was very disappointed in me.”
“Understandable,” her mom commented.
“Anyway, as it stands right now, instead of facing suspension—which was a definite possibility—we’ve been tasked with helping sell tickets to the band’s big fundraiser, the Talent Showcase. And one of us has to perform in it. So, that’s what happened and I’m very, very sorry.”
Her parents were quiet for a few moments. Stunned silence?
“This is all so surprising,” her father finally said. “It’s so unlike you, Lace.”
“I know. I know.” Lacey sucked in a breath, and I reached over, taking her hand again. “I was trying to take a few risks and got carried away.”
“I would like to interject that I was equally, if not more, responsible.” I made sure to make eye contact with each of her parents. “She wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t pushed her.”
“Peer pressure is hard to resist.” Lacey’s dad quirked his brow at her. “But each person is responsible for their own actions.”
“Sweetie.” Her mom leaned forward, her face soft with concern. “What’s going on?”
Lacey blinked a few times and shrugged, pulling her hand from mine and clasping them tightly in her lap.
“I guess I was trying to be more like Tracey. And you two. You’re free spirits. Creative. Daring. Adventurous. I’m not any of that.” Her eyes glistened and the tip of her nose turned pink. “Sometimes I feel like I’m a hungry girl stuck inside a small glass room watching the three of you dig into life like it’s a banana split.”
“Oh, baby girl.” Her mother tossed her book aside and stood, rushed over to Lacey and pulled her up, wrapping her in her arms. “I’m so sorry we made you feel that way. It breaks my heart that I didn’t know.”
She pulled back and wiped the tears from Lacey’s face.
“You’re right. Sometimes the three of us get caught up in our artsy-fartsy conversations and selfishly forget how excluding that is.” She brushed her hand softly over Lacey’s hair. “That’s on me.”
“On us,” her father said, joining them in a group hug. “I’m sorry, Lace. The thing is—most of the time, you’re the glue that holds us together. You’re the one who calms our heated conversations. You’re the one who sprinkles happiness around here like glitter when we fall into our moods.”
So, this was how healthy, loving families worked. It was pretty sweet. Bittersweet for me because now I was the one standing on the outside feeling hungry for what they had.
“Come here, Grady.” Lacey’s dad waved me over. “Let’s go. You’re part of this too. Group hug time.”
“Uh, okay.” I joined the huddle, my arms around Lacey’s and her dad’s shoulders. My chest tightened at being included in their circle of laughing tear-streaked faces.
I’d never felt so weird and so freaking good at the same time.
26
Good Idea or the Stupidest Idea Ever?
Lacey
“Hey, is your car still in the shop?” I’d put Grady on speakerphone since I was in the middle of cutting onion and green peppers for breakfast.
“What?” Dad’s head jerked up.
“Ssshhh.” I waved a frantic hand at Dad and shook my head. “Yes it is.”
“How about I swing by and give you a ride to school?”
Tracey grabbed my phone from the counter. “I’ll take a ride too. But come over now and have breakfast. I heard you already met the rents, but you left before they could grill you, and I totally want to enjoy that.”
“Uh…”
“Absolutely!” Mom called from where she stood at the kitchen island, preparing the egg substitute for omelets. “We insist!”
I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and rescued my phone from Tracey, taking it off speakerphone. “Sorry about that, Grady.”
“Are they serious about breakfast?” He sounded just a bit worried, but also hungry enough to be tempted.
“As a heart attack. Is that okay? My mom makes a mean vegan omelet.”
“I’m on my way.”
That was how Grady ended up at our breakfast table, being swallowed up by my outgoing family. He didn’t seem to mind at all.
“Here’s a fun fact about Grady: he’s really into conservation.” I grinned at his “what are you doing” glance as I sliced a bite of fluffy egg-substitute eggs with my fork.
“Goodness, that’s wonderful!” Mom said. “That’s to be commended. Are you also a vegan? Or a vegetarian? Or a pescatarian? Many conservationists are.”
“No, ma’am. I just try to do my part to preserve our, uh, limited resources.” He hit me with his green gaze. There was a spark of humor in his eyes. Or was it retribution? There was one way to find out.
“He’s committed to conserving the internet.”
“Excuse me?” Dad sent Mom an “oh boy, we’ve got a live one here” look.
&nb
sp; “Actually…” Grady reached over, covered my ears with his hands, and leaned toward my parents to loud-whisper, “Your daughter thought we’d run out of internet”——I pushed his hands off with a laugh, but he continued on— “so together (he did air quotes around the word together) we’ve been working on using as little as possible.”
“You two are weirdly cute together.” Tracey glanced between the two of us. “I grant my approval.”
“Gee, thanks, Tracey.” That wasn’t awkward at all. Especially when Mom and Dad sat there grinning like they were holding a winning lottery ticket in their hands.
Grady didn’t seem to mind as he sent Tracey a wink in response.
“So, Grady, Lacey says you play a mean guitar,” Dad said. “It just so happens that I was in a band back in college. What genre of music do you play?”
Dad and Grady bonded over music. After discussing how Grady got into music and his band, they moved on to making a list of the greatest guitar solos of all time.
“Does your band play locally?” Mom asked. “We’d love to come listen.”
Grady’s hand froze with his glass of orange juice half-way to his mouth. He blinked once. Twice. He sat without responding, looking surprised by my parents’ interest. And then he smiled. “That would be great. I’ll give you a list of our local gigs.”
I thought about Grady’s mother and step-father. How uninvolved and disinterested they were in Grady’s music.
I wanted to hug my parents for giving him what his own family didn’t. It was a reminder of how lucky I was. I might be the only non-artistic one in the family, but my family always showed an interest in my life.
I wanted to hug Grady even more for what he didn’t have. Watching Grady’s reaction planted the seed of an idea. One I’d need to think about since I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or the stupidest ever.
The Good Girl & the Bad Boy: A Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 2) Page 13
