How to Hook a Bookworm (4 page)

“No problem.”

He rolls over, and I take that as my cue to leave. I’ve done my friendly duty. Being as quiet as I can, I stuff things back into my backpack. I’ll zip it out of the room so I don’t wake him up.

A loud snore rumbles his lips, and I silent laugh. It’s kind of nice I got to take care of him. Usually I sit back and let Sierra do it. There’s not much I can do for anyone, but if I helped even a little bit with my candy and company, then I’ll chalk that one on the success chart.

I reach over to pull the covers over his shoulder. He smiles in his sleep when I ruffle his hair, then he sticks his hand out and settles a red M&M in my palm.

I won’t eat it, since it’s probably cold and flu riddled, but the thought alone gets my heart rate jacked up.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

He gives me a tiny nod and rolls over on his other side. I think he’s out before I even get to his door.

Chapter 4

How many classes do I need to pass to graduate?

Four shiny bright F’s. Not one. Or two or three… FOUR FREAKING F’S. How did this happen?

English, Geometry, History, and Biology. The big ones. All four of them. I slam my head down on my desk and force back the heat creeping behind my eyes. I can feel people looking at me, but I don’t care. My mom’s going to freak. Levi is going to
really
freak.

It had to be midterms. Tests have to be the worst things anyone ever invented. The second I see the word “test” on top of the page, my brain jumps out of my head and takes a coffee break. It leaves the rest of my body on high alert…my heart pumps faster, my nerves stand on end, and all my senses heighten. I can hear someone scratch their arm from across the room. My eyes focus on the individual ink dots in the first question on the test. I feel like I’ve developed some sort of super power, only my brain up and left, and I stare at the page, writing who the hell knows what, just so the test isn’t empty.

Google says it’s test anxiety. But really, I think I’m just stupid.

The bell rings, and I pluck my head from the desk and slide my report card into my pocket. I swipe at my eyes, hoping none of my mascara smeared in the process. No tears escaped, thank the heavens. I have to look okay, put on a brave front, because if I don’t, Levi and Mom will worry. I don’t want them worrying. I’d rather have them mad.

I get out the front doors and stand on the curb, waiting for Adam. Poor guy still has a little bit of a stuffy nose, but he says he’s past the worst of it. Also told me he doesn’t remember most of our conversation yesterday, and if he said anything inappropriate, he probably totally meant it, but I should forget about it. I don’t think I’ll ever forget him telling me the green M&M girl was sexy. I’m so using that for blackmail later.

My eyes float around the lot, not really looking at anything. I’m trying to figure out what to say to Mom and Levi when they ask for my report card when someone gives me a tiny wave a few feet down the sidewalk.

I blink a few times, focusing in on Jay who’s got a delicious smile on. Because I’m not totally sure he’s waving to me, I just smile back thinking that’s innocent and polite enough.

He says something to the guy he’s standing with, then he fist bumps him before walking to me. I gulp and stare at the ground. Bringing my hair around my shoulder, I start to braid like crazy. Jay’s shadow reaches me, and my fingers tighten around my blonde locks.

“Hey.”

Okay, I should probably look at him. “Uh, hey.”

And now it’s awkward. Yay.

“Oh shit, do you not recognize me?”

My neck jerks back and I say, “Huh?”

“I’m that lost guy you helped yesterday.”

“I remember you, Jay.” I get to the bottom of my hair and knot it up so the braid stays.

“Phew!” He pretends to wipe his forehead. “I thought you sounded confused for a second.”

“Sorry.”

He laughs, but it’s super forced. His eyes dart to the parking lot. I’m so socially inept. I always come off rude and annoyed, when really I just have no idea how to talk to people. A million topics float through my brain, and I try to grasp one of them so we’re not just standing here on the curb saying absolutely nothing.

There’s a rock stuck in the drain by our feet. I could talk about that, I guess. It’s been there all year and it’s bugged me. Or maybe I’ll talk about how rain gutters scare the crap out of me. I’m afraid of a heel slipping into one of the holes, and I wrench my ankle and break it. Or how I have to make sure my phone is secure in my pocket when I walk by one because it might magically jump from my pants and land in the sewer.

It’s stupid. But something is better than this silent torture.

“So…”

“Do you…”

Of course we have to break the silence at the same time. I bite back the very uninteresting topic I plucked from my brain and say, “Sorry, you go” before he has a chance to make me talk about my phobia of rain drains.

He tugs on the strap of his messenger bag. “I was thinking…since you were so good at directing me to that class, that maybe you want to show me around town, too? Like, this weekend, maybe?”

My brows push together, and I sort of…well, I gawk at him. He takes one look at my face and smacks a hand over his eyes.

“Shit, that sounded much better in my head. I wanted to ask you out, but I didn’t want to freak you out since we don’t really know each other. So I thought maybe if I had sort of an excuse… I know, lame. I’m gonna start over.” He takes his hand down and sucks in a deep breath. “Hey, Brea. What are you doing this weekend?”

Instead of answering him like a normal person I ask, “You want to go out with me?”

“Yeah.”

I blink, then study him to make sure this isn’t a prank.

“
Why?
”

He plays with his strap some more and shrugs. “You seem cool.” He pauses and kicks a rock into that rain gutter. It gets lodged next to the other one. “And…you’re cute.”

I’m so glad Adam pulls up at that exact moment. His tire squeals against the curb right in front of us, and he lets himself out to open the door for me. I give him a minute finger.

When I look back at Jay, his hand is back over his eyes. “That guy is your boyfriend, isn’t he?” he asks so quiet I have to lean in to hear it.

“No,” I whisper back, and when he pulls his hand away I force an awkward smile at him. “And I think I’m free this weekend.”

His whole demeanor changes, and he straightens, giving me a smirk. Almost as if the fact that I’m available gives him all the confidence in the world.

“Well, awesome. Can I get your number then?”

“Sure.” I shift weight onto my other leg and give him my phone as he hands me his. His fingers touch mine, and I’m suddenly very aware Adam is right there within hearing distance, but when I glance at him, his attention is on his own phone.

“Here,” Jay says, nudging my knuckles with my ancient cell. It’s a pay by the minute, since that’s all Levi could afford to get me. I told him I didn’t need one, but he was all, “I want you to have one for emergencies,” and blah blah. I get the gesture, but I don’t fill up on minutes often. Too afraid to ask for something so low priority.

I hand Jay back his had-to-be-six-hundred-dollars cell.

“I’ll call you tonight,” he says.

“Okay.”

He gives Adam a nod—Adam waves back—and then he jogs off. I cock my head and appreciate the view for a little bit until Adam clears his throat.

“You coming? Or should I leave you to stare into space?”

I roll my eyes and shove past him, not really in the mood to joke around. I slouch in the front seat as he makes his way behind the wheel.

He pushes to my playlist on his iPod and we drive in silence. The report card in my pocket feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. If I stand, I’m in danger of my pants dropping to my ankles.

Adam pulls up to my trailer, the weight in my pocket triples, and I find it hard to breathe normally.

I grapple for the door handle, but Adam reaches around me and slams the door lock down. Now my breathing is chaotic, fogging up his glasses.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” His mouth twitches at the corner, and he flicks the bottom of my braid. “Or are you going to keep it in till it explodes later?”

“That’s only happened a couple times.” Or a couple hundred times.

He raises his eyebrows and waits, and instead of answering, I pull out my midterms.

Adam sits back, unfolding the paper. A long whistle floats from his mouth when his eyes graze over my big fat Fs.

“Wow.”

“I know.”

A small frown pulls at the corners of his mouth. “So, how’d this happen?”

I shrug, turning to the window to look at the suddenly interesting chain link fence. Anything to stare at besides that disappointment in his face. I don’t do anything to please anyone but myself, but Adam’s opinion somehow matters to me. Maybe it’s because his opinion of me usually speaks higher than the opinion I have of myself.

“Come on, Brea. It’s me. Is something going on?”

Just the same old stress. I’ve never been able to pull good grades out. I’ve never
failed
before, though.

“Maybe I’m just stupid,” I say to the window. I didn’t realize how hard that was for me to say out loud until I hear the wetness in my voice. Which is so totally not me. I keep things locked tight until they evaporate.

“You are not stupid.” Adam settles the report card back in my lap. “I think something is bugging you. And I
know
you don’t want to talk about whatever it is. But I think you should.”

I hate that he’s right. I
don’t
want to talk about my anxiety issues. It makes me feel weak, and really, what the hell is talking going to do.

I sniff and push back those pesky tears. Folding the paper back up, I ask him, “Do you think I can make this up? I really don’t want to go to summer school.” Regular school is bad enough.

“It’s only midterm. So, yeah, you could pull it up.”

He sounds doubtful. That’s real encouraging.

“Yeah, okay.” I yank on the door lock and reach for the handle, but he leans over and smacks it down again.

“Brea…if you want help, all you have to do is ask.”

I give him a look, but the dorky grin on his face does me in, and I’m laughing before I can stop myself.

“I know.” And I do. Adam is good like that. I pry his fingers from the door lock and slide out of the seat before he can stop me again. “Thanks for the ride.”

He nods and grabs his iPod to change to his music. A tiny flutter goes through my stomach because I love that he lets me listen to my stuff even though I know he hates it.

“Brea?”

I lean back into the window. “Yeah?”

He puts the iPod down, and his soft brown eyes meet mine. The tiny flutter turns into a whopping tornado.

“You’re not stupid. Don’t ever think that again, ‘kay?”

His words melt my stubbornness, and it’s out before I can stop it. “Adam…I need help.” I close my eyes and squat down, holding onto the car window to keep me stable. “Will you please help me?”

I hear a car door open and slam shut, then arms wrap around my shoulders and instead of the car keeping me up, it’s a warm cotton T-shirt and a hard chest.

I mentally shout at my eyes to keep those tears back.

He squeezes me tight and answers into my hair. “Consider me your on call tutor.”

Chapter 5

Brothers need to act more like friends and less like bossy buttheads.

We don’t own a dinner table, but Mom—with major backup from Levi—insists we sit together as a family and eat. I personally think you can eat PB&J anytime, anywhere, but I’m outvoted.

Levi’s in his blue button-up, tie slung over his left shoulder as he eats over his plate. The gold Cineplex manager name tag is clipped to his front pocket, and the sun keeps hitting it and reflecting in my face. I’ve shifted in my chair about twenty times just to get away.

“What time are you off tonight?” Mom asks Levi, moving her plate to look over a stack of papers on the side table. She’s in the lawn chair we use as furniture with her feet kicked up on the edge of the couch next to my leg.

Levi puts his hand to his mouth, holding up a finger. He chews, swallows, and drops his hand. “Last show is at ten-thirty, so after count and closing, probably around one.”

Mom purses her lips, and I know she’s holding back how much she wishes Levi was working the day shift for longer hours. By the look on Levi’s face, I know he knows it too. I bite my tongue because Mom spent all day by the phone waiting for a call from the temp agency. I’ve offered to go with her to the mall or to a few grocery stores to grab applications. Heck, I’ve actually picked up those applications, and they sit on our kitchen counter completely blank.

Levi clears his throat and picks up his glass of water. “I’m working fifteen hours of overtime this pay period though, so it should make up for the short shifts.”

Mom nods, fanning out the bills on the table. I take another bite of my sandwich and mentally scold myself for not looking for a job either. This weekend for sure. I’ll be on that Monster.com like Adam on a book sale.

Levi gets up from the couch and washes his plate in the sink. Mom sniffs a few times, and I refuse to watch her tear up like she does every time around the first and fifteenth of the month. It almost has me filling out those applications for her myself. Not sure if she’s used to having Levi handle everything, or accepted it, or what. I know Levi doesn’t think it’s a big deal anymore, but he also hasn’t told Mom his plans to move out at the end of the summer. He doesn’t want to rock the boat, and he knows we can’t make it without him.

Besides, Mom’ll get a permanent job. I
have
to believe that, even if I don’t witness any effort on her part.

“Hey, Brea…” Levi says as he puts his now clean plate in the cupboard. “Sierra said her midterms came today. You get yours, too?”

Way to swing the subject off our money problems, bro. Now the heat’s gonna be on me.

There’s no use in lying either. Between Adam and Sierra, he’s going to figure it out sooner or later.

I make sure all my tears have been pushed back as far as they can go—think I’m good—and I nod at the crust on my plate. “Yeah, I got them.”

They wait, and I grudgingly put the crust in my mouth and chew. I can’t waste food even though I’d rather chuck it in the trash.

“Well…?” Levi prods, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.

I shrug and swallow. “Could be better.”

Levi raises his eyebrow, and Mom clears her lap free of crumbs as she sits straight, her feet flopping to the floor. She sticks her hand out and wiggles her fingers. Since I knew it was coming, and I let out everything on Adam earlier, I pull the crumpled paper from my pocket and settle it in my mom’s hand without even blinking.

It’s okay if they get mad. I’m okay with that. Just don’t get worried…

“Brea, what happened?”

Levi immediately straightens and rushes to Mom’s side to look over her shoulder. I will myself to disappear into the couch cushion.

“You’re failing four classes,” Levi says before shooting his gaze to me. All I see is worry. No anger, no frustration or disappointment. Worry. From both of them.

I hate it. I don’t want to add another thing to the problems-that-we-can’t-solve pile. So I grit my jaw and say, “I didn’t notice that. Thanks.”

They ignore my attitude.

“Well, what happened?” Levi prods. Mom’s eyes haven’t moved from my report card.

I blow out a breath and snap my empty plate up. “It’s no big deal, okay? I asked Adam to help me bring it up before the final semester grade.”

“He’s got time to do that?”

Turning on the faucet, I ignore Levi and his big nose and scrub my plate clean. It bugs me that he asks about Adam having time when I didn’t even think about it. Adam works, has his own school stuff, plus he’s sorting through colleges. It didn’t even cross my mind he may not have time to help me out of this mess.

But he said yes, so I shove that guilty thought away with my clean plate.

“Can I be excused?” I ask the carpet at Mom’s feet. Levi’s mouth opens to protest, but Mom nods, and I race to my room before I get any more worried stares or questions about school.

I fall back on my bed, yanking my phone out and toying with it. Adam said he’d call after his shift at Nut World, but I was sort of hoping he’d find time to text while he was on the clock. Even though it’s kind of hard with the big furry squirrel costume he has to wear while he stands on the corner, waving a sign to all the cars passing saying “Ask Me About Our Nuts!” or something equally embarrassing. Adam rocks at it though. He’s learned to twirl that sign over his head and around his back and between his legs…all in that big costume.

A knock comes at my door, and before I can say, “Leave me alone” Levi’s poking his head in.

“Hey.”

“Hey, what?”

“Can I come in?”

“Only if you don’t talk about school.”

His mouth pulls at the corner, and he slides into the room. He shuts the door behind him, and even though I gave him a condition on being here, I know the next thing out of his mouth will be about that damn report card.

“I don’t want you to get a job.”

Okay…maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do. My brow crinkles as I turn to look him dead on.

“What?”

He perches on the edge of the bed. “You said you were going to look for a job when you turned sixteen. I don’t want you to.”

“Why not?” I hold back the fact that they kind of need me to get one—especially if he’s moving out.

“Because if your grades are suffering now, it’ll get ten times worse with a job on top of it.”

Boosh. There it is. I roll my eyes and put them on the ceiling, wishing I had a wad of gum in my mouth to keep my teeth from grinding.

“At the rate we’re going, I’m probably better off dropping out of school entirely. Maybe I can join Mom on the temp job market. Or I can take your shift at the soup kitchen so we get our precious bagels every morning. My Fs don’t freaking matter, Levi. Pass or fail, we’re still four months behind on every damn bill, you’re moving out, and I’ll be sitting on my ass doing nothing about it.” I slap my arm over my eyes to put as much pressure on them as possible. None of that crying shit. “I
have
to get a job.”

Weight lifts off my bed, and I’m ready for him to slam my door shut, but instead I get a very “stage-whispered” yell. “Your grades
do
matter. There’s no way in hell you’re dropping out, and if you fail, that means summer school. That isn’t free, Brea. It’s damn expensive, and it’ll just put more stress on Mom’s back. She doesn’t need that.”

“You mean
you
don’t need that,” I spit before I can stop it. I immediately regret the comeback because Levi
never
complains about what he’s been doing since Dad ran out the door. He’s the one who picked this family up after Mom’s depression and my bitchery. I know it weighs on him, but he doesn’t say anything. Even after selling his car, his drums…he let it slide off his back. I sit up, tucking my knees under my chin, avoiding his eyes. “Sorry.”

Silence creeps on us, and I chew on my thumbnail, debating on apologizing again. After about thirty seconds, Levi sits back on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe I should stay.”

“What?”

“Maybe I need to stay here.” He lowers his hand. “At least until Mom gets a permanent job.”

“No job is permanent.” As soon as it’s out of my mouth, Levi shoots me a look like I’m purposely being a pain in the ass to keep fighting, but that’s not it. “I just mean if you keep using that as an excuse, you’ll never leave. And as much as I want you to stay, you’re twenty years old. You need to get out of here. Be on your own. Or with your girlfriend. Whatever you’re planning on doing.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” His voice rises, and I jolt back from his tone. “I want out of here so bad, there have been days I’ve put Sierra on the back of the moped and wanted to drive away. Just drive till there’s no gas left in the tank. I’ve wanted to apply at colleges, move out of state, get the hell out and away from all this.” He pulls out his phone, checks the time, then jams it back in his pocket as he stands. “But I don’t. Because I love you, and I love Mom. And I’m not like Dad. I won’t run away just because shit is hard. If I have to stay here till I’m seventy I will. So don’t drop out. Don’t go looking for a job. Work hard at getting your grades up so you can graduate. That’s what Mom wants for you, and that’s what I’m working so damn hard for you to do.”

Heat rolls through my chest, and I take it back. I’d rather have worry than this. Not disappointment. I know I’m not pleasant company. I know I make hard things harder. I’m not strong, but I put on that front because I hate being weak.

But I am weak.

To fight from crying, rage comes out instead. Anger at my brother who doesn’t deserve it, but it comes out anyway.

“I’m sorry to be such an inconvenience to you. I’m sorry I’m stupid and can’t focus in class because my mind is on my half empty stomach. I’m sorry you feel like you have to stay for me, because I’m hardly worth the effort. I’m sorry I can’t—”

“Everything is awesome! Everything is cool when you’re part of a team.”

Both of us jump at my cell, screaming out the theme of The Lego Movie at volume three hundred. I growl at the floor, lean over, and snatch my phone up.

Jay.

I totally forgot about him. How awful is that? He’s the sexy sophomore angel sent to our school who wants to hang with me…and I forget.

“Hello?” I croak, then quickly clear my throat.

“Hey, is this Brea?”

I shoot a glance at my brother who’s still standing two feet away from me, calming his breathing and pinching his nose.

“Hi Jay. Um…can you hang on a second?”

“Sure.”

Covering the mouthpiece, I drop my hands to my side and swallow hard. I want to say something to him. Apologize again for yelling, for making things worse, for not even knowing why we’re fighting it just explodes sometimes when things build in my mind for too long. But I don’t. All I do is make sure my voice is steady and soft when I say, “You don’t want to be late for work.”

Levi does this thing where it looks like he’s halfway between hugging me and strangling me. He doesn’t do either and just walks from my room, letting the door shut quietly behind him. I take a small breather before I put the phone back up to my ear.

“Sorry about that,” I say to Jay, hoping my voice is even.

“It’s cool. I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?”

Yes
.

“No.”

“Awesome. So, how are you?”

“Okay, I guess.” I’m not sure if it’s the left over tension in the air from my argument with Levi or if it’s the phone call itself, but it feels awkward and weird. “Uh, you?”

“I’m good. I rehearsed what I was going to say about ten times before I hit call. So I’m going to spit it out before I forget.”

A slight smile twitches the corners of my mouth, and I walk over to my dresser and play with all the sketches I keep on top. “Go for it.”

“So Brea, I’m new here, not sure if you knew…” We both share a laugh, his nervous and mine totally just to humor the poor guy. “I was wondering if you’d be cool with hanging out Friday night? I can pick you up around six, and you can give me directions to all your favorite spots.”

My favorite spots? I’m glad I have notice, because if he surprised me with that one on Friday night, I would’ve told him to take me to Adam’s backyard, Sierra’s massive bedroom, or the candy aisle at Target.

I chew on my lip, opening my top drawer and digging out my pack of Stride gum Adam always keeps stocked for me. I pop a piece in and chew, wondering if I should ask Mom if it’s okay, or agree to the date now and ask for forgiveness later. She never said the word “grounded,” but I’m afraid if I ask about going out this weekend right after the grade report, she will say the word loud and clear.

“Crap, did I mess that up too? I thought I was being pretty cool about it.” Jay laughs, and I pop my gum.

“Sorry, I was just checking…my, uh, calendar.” What baloney. I don’t even think I own a calendar. “Six on Friday sounds good.” I put on a smile, then pop my gum again. “As long as I’m allowed to pick a place with food as our first stop.”

“Of course.”