Текст книги "I Love Him, I Love Him Not "
Автор книги: Ella Martin
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jake was sitting on the hood of his car when I went outside. His knees were pulled up close to his chest, and he had his head down, his fingers drumming to the faint music coming from the coffee shop.
“They seem to like it,” I said, referring to the small crowd inside the Bookish Bean.
He looked up and bobbed his head, but then he lowered it again.
I cleared my throat. “Do you, um, mind if I join you?”
He didn’t say anything but scooted over. Shadows of moths hovering near the streetlamp overhead danced around him. I climbed onto his car and rested my feet on the fender.
“Ally would freak out if she saw us right now,” I said. “She’d probably yell at us for scratching your paint job or something.”
Jake remained silent. Gavin’s voice began crooning the second verse.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know.”
That got a reaction from him.
“Didn’t know what?” he said. “That I was madly in love with you?”
My stomach simultaneously flipped and sank. He was madly in love with me, I repeated to myself. But he wasn’t looking at me, and it felt like he didn’t want to be near me. Did that mean it was too late?
I hung my head. “I thought….” It sounded stupid, but I had to say it. “I thought you were going out with Clover.”
Jake stared at me with a look of complete disbelief before he said, “What? Why?”
“Well, I mean….” I swallowed hard. “She’s Clover Davies. And she’s gorgeous, and she’s amazing, and she’s—”
“—incredibly high maintenance,” he finished for me.
That wasn’t at all what I expected him to say. “What?”
He sighed. “She’s really cool, and it’s fun to hang out with her and whatever, but some of the stuff she does, it’s like….” He shuddered. “She’s worse than Ally.”
I fought back a laugh. “No one’s worse than Ally.”
“She likes foie gras,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“So? Lots of people do.”
“No. Lots of people say they like it because you’re supposed to, but no one really does.” He paused. “No one normal, anyway.”
I was still puzzled. “But you and Clover were spending so much time together,” I said. “And Mia told me you went to her house and came home super late one night because you lost track of time.”
“So you thought…?” Jake let out a humorless laugh.
The joke was lost on me. “What’s so funny?”
He shook his head. “Her dad has a complete studio at his house,” he said. “Like three different recording rooms and top-of-the-line mixers and everything. So, yeah, it’s easy to lose yourself when you’re surrounded by all of that.”
I remained silent, letting everything sink in. “You were spending so much time with her,” I said again. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and slowly let it out. “And then that night when I kissed you….”
“And you ran away.”
“I was scared,” I admitted. “You’re my best friend. You’re my go-to guy.” My voice quivered as I whispered, “You know me better than I know me, and I didn’t want to mess any of that up. I couldn’t….” I swallowed hard again. “I didn’t know what I’d do if you weren’t around anymore.”
“So you ran away?”
“Well, you went out with Clover the next night!”
He looked confused for a moment, but then the creases in his brow relaxed, and he shook his head, smiling.
“I didn’t go out with her.”
“Whatever,” I said. “You made plans with her the day after you….” I couldn’t finish the thought. It was too painful.
“Do you remember that day I came over after your dad called?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“I wanted to tell you Clover was helping me polish some stuff to take to her dad. You know, like maybe he’d buy it. But I wasn’t sure anything would happen, and I didn’t want to look stupid….”
“That’s why you didn’t tell me.”
He shook his head again.
“But you tell me everything! That’s why I thought, maybe….” I looked down at my boots. “I thought Clover was your muse.”
Jake let out an uncomfortable laugh. “No,” he said emphatically. “She’s cool and all, but definitely no.”
The crowd inside the coffee shop cheered as Gavin finished playing. The applause was loud enough for us to hear outside. I nudged Jake with my elbow.
“I think they liked it,” I said.
“Clover’ll be happy.”
“What about you?”
Jake didn’t say anything at first; he just stared at me for a while. “Did you like it?” he finally said, his voice thick with emotion.
“Are you kidding?” I smiled and brushed the hair out of his eyes. “It’s amazing.”
He lowered his lashes, and when he looked at me again, his eyes were brimming with tears.
“You took off again yesterday,” he said. “I poured out my soul, and….” He swallowed hard. “Why?”
Tears leaked from my own eyes, and I hurried to brush them away. “I didn’t know you wrote it for me.” I swiped at my cheeks again. “I mean, you were singing this amazing song that you’d written, and I was so sure you were dating Clover, and—”
He cupped my cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips onto mine, silencing me. There was almost a hunger beyond the tenderness, but if it came from him or from me or from both of us, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t resist him. I didn’t try to escape. And I didn’t stop to think about him and Clover and what any of this meant or if it even meant anything at all. I clung to his shoulders, let myself savor the feel of his mouth on mine, and kissed him as though I’d never have another chance to do it again.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said when he broke away. “But that’s part of why I love you.”
My heart raced as he spoke, and I grabbed both of his hands. “So that song…?”
He pressed his forehead against mine. “You obviously weren’t getting the message with all those ringtones I put on your phone, so I had to do something drastic.”
“I thought you were just trying to annoy me!” I laughed and sniffed and sobbed all at once, and he kissed my cheeks where the tears were coming down.
“No,” he said with a laugh. “I could do far worse things to annoy you.” He lifted my hands and kissed each of my fingertips, his eyes never leaving mine. “I was trying to tell you I love you.”
Jake put his soul into everything he did. If he said it, I knew he meant it. I just had to let myself believe it would all be okay. I had to let myself hope for that happy ending.
I sniffed again and extracted my hand to push a lock of hair out of his face. Sounds from the coffee shop faded into the distance, and the nighttime air seemed to still as we looked into each other’s eyes. In that moment, Jake and I made up our own universe, just the two of us sitting on the hood of his car. I took a shaky breath and pressed my forehead against his.
Maybe it wouldn’t last forever. But I couldn’t think of anyone else I would have wanted to risk it with. Jake would never hurt me. He’d keep my heart safe.
I closed my eyes and gently kissed him, savoring the feel of his lips on mine before I said the words I’d been so afraid to speak aloud.
“I love you, too.”
Acknowledgements
I Love Him, I Love Him Not wouldn’t have happened without the unwavering confidence and gentle guidance of my agent, Julia Weber. She reminded me to breathe after every panicked email (and most were panicked), waited patiently as I tore up countless drafts trying to get the words right, and remained this Zen voice of reason throughout the process. I owe so much to her.
Sara Biren has been with Westgate Prep since the beginning, as have the Central Florida Inklings: Julie McAlee, Brad Shreffler, Cheryl Flesch, and Alli Martin. I couldn’t ask for a better group of readers and co-commiserators than the friends I’m proud to call my Team Weber sisters: Leslie Dunnett, Rebecca Hackett, Precy Larkins, Sophie Lira, Andrea Jackson, L.S. Murphy, and Gail Nall. Nicole Brinkley and Shae McDaniel found the cure for my writer’s block (in the form of Richard Armitage in North and South), and Nicole and the YA Interrobang crew – especially Kaye, Lindsay, and Natasha – taught me how to step back and look at stories from different angles. Nico Galfond answered all my music-related questions (to help justify Jake’s music snobbery), and Kirsten Banks made sure I had a properly angsty playlist as I wrote Talia’s story. I am eternally grateful to them all.
I also have the most extraordinary family. My sister is my touchstone and my loudest cheerleader, my husband is getting used to my #5AMWritersClub membership, and my son is an endless source of smiles and cuddles as he reminds me not to work too hard. I love them all and am truly blessed to have them in my life.
Finally, the book in your hands would not have been possible without you, the reader. Thanks for coming to Westgate Prep. Ally and I will see you after spring break!
Books by Ella Martin
Will the Real Prince Charming Please Stand Up? (Westgate Prep #1)
I Love Him, I Love Him Not (Westgate Prep #2)
About the Author
Ella Martin is a young adult author and self-described “prep school survivor” from Southern California. With a keen sense for combining relatable teen characters with engrossing stories, her books blend aspects of romance, angst, and intrigue. Her Westgate Prep series of books tackle female friendships, quirky characters, and sensitive topics with equal tact.
Also by Ella Martin
Chapter One
“The exit polls are in, guys. It’s still early, but Bianca may actually win this.”
I looked up from my salad at the lanky boy who took the seat across from me. “Exit polls?” I asked. “Finn, you can’t be serious.”
His cool cerulean blue eyes peered at me over the top of his wireframe glasses. “How often is it that one of my friends has a chance at being Homecoming Princess?”
Beside me, my friend Talia crunched into a carrot stick. “So what is she ahead by?”
I glared at her. “Don’t encourage him.”
She flipped her long ponytail over her shoulder, revealing a bright green streak in her dark hair as she grinned at me. I sighed, knowing I was defeated.
Talia Nicoletti was the only person I knew brave enough to thumb her nose at the Westgate Prep Appearance Guidelines. The green streak she sported was her way of coping with the birthmark on her scalp that turned a lock of hair white. It totally violated all the rules, but after her mom had a meeting with the principal last year, both of the school deans gave up, stopped calling out her blatant disregard for the guidelines, and let her get away with everything. We called it the Talia Clause. Not even her knee-high combat boots and larger-than-regulation silver hoops that day earned a second glance from the faculty. But it probably didn’t hurt to have a high-powered attorney who terrified the entire administration for a mom, either.
“Based on the thirty-five random people I asked, which is a sample size of about twelve percent, she’s up by almost sixteen percentage points,” Finn replied, picking up his burger. “It’s just outside the margin of error, but I’m really confident in my math.”
Of course he was. Finnegan Marks was Westgate Prep’s top mathlete and the only sophomore taking pre-calculus while most of us slackers suffered through geometry. Come to think of it, Finn was probably the only sophomore not taking any regular tenth-grade classes. He stood about a head taller than I did (which was significant since I was considered kind of tall at five-foot-nine) and, despite his skinny frame, was fairly athletic. He was the best shooter on last year’s JV basketball team, though he said that wasn’t as much skill as it was a basic understanding of physics and geometry.
“I’m only on that stupid ballot because you and Jake thought it would be a fun social experiment,” I said with a snort. “You really think campaigning will have any effect on who’ll win?”
“Well, there has to be a way to level the field to prove it’s possible to rig a popularity contest,” he said, sounding hurt.
“So I get to be the guinea pig?” I stifled a groan. It wasn’t that I couldn’t win the Homecoming Princess crown on my own because I was ugly or anything. I thought my boring brown eyes were a little too big for my face, I was never crazy about the way my small nose turned up a bit at the end, and I really wished I’d inherited some of my mom’s Latin curves, but my looks were better than passable.
No, I wouldn’t win because I mostly kept to my close circle of friends, and I was a pretty ordinary student. I wasn’t hyper-involved in a ton of clubs, I was only in a handful of honors classes, and I wasn’t one of those girls who guys were drooling over. I was the girl you saw walking down the hall and didn’t think twice about.
Finn held up his burger and studied it. “You have to admit, Bianca, this has been an interesting experiment. We’ll know for sure when they announce the winners at the pep rally tomorrow, but it seems our campaign has been pretty effective.”
“All your campaigning has done is make my name more recognizable.”
“Hey, those videos got, like, a couple thousand views each.”
“A couple thousand?” I said, mortified. “But there are only, like, three hundred people in our class.”
“I know.” Finn was ecstatic. “So if my calculations are right, which we know they are, the videos we posted and email blasts we sent boosted both name and facial recognition, which led to an increase in your popularity quotient beyond those of the other candidates, thus securing a win.”
“In English, please?”
“He’s saying their campaign made you more popular than the cheerleaders,” Talia explained.
He furrowed his brow. “Jake and I merely presented her as the best representative for our class.”
“How would I be representing our class? All the Homecoming princesses do is sit on their class floats and smile and wave to the crowd at halftime. A trained monkey could do that.” I pointed at Finn with my fork. “And I don’t like being your lab rat.”
“But you have to admit, Bianca,” Talia said thoughtfully between bites of her sandwich, “it would be kind of cool to win.”
“Kind of cool?” Blonde spiral curls appeared out of nowhere as my friend Ally set a tray onto the table and slid into the seat beside me. “It would be totally epic.”
Ally Katz was the social butterfly of the sophomore class and easily the biggest gossip. She had a sweet, cherubic face with large, inquisitive green eyes, and a petite but rather curvy figure. I thought she would have been a better choice for Jake and Finn’s little experiment, but the guys told me Ally was too well-known and well-liked despite (or perhaps because of) her gossip blog. It was like Westgate’s Gossip Central Station, which Ally totally took as a compliment because she wanted to be an entertainment news reporter.
“You guys are way more excited about this than you should be,” I said.
Ally beamed at me. “You do know what this would mean, right?”
“That I can expect to be splashed with a bucket of pig’s blood at the game?” I asked cynically.
“Not if I can help it,” my brother said behind me. “Besides, no one would do that to the quarterback’s sister.”
I grimaced as he reached over my shoulder and grabbed the lone breadstick on my tray. Brady liked to remind me of his accomplishments at every turn, which often meant speaking of himself in the third person. Since this past summer, he referred to himself as “the quarterback” – or worse, “the QB” – as though I was supposed to be impressed. It was bad enough that half the girls in the school drooled over him – and were angry with me for not letting them use me to get to him. But as a senior, he’d really let it go to his head. Yes, he was a good-looking guy, and yes, he was a good athlete. But sometimes it was like he’d forgotten that I’d been around most of his life.
“Hi, Brady.” I didn’t bother to turn around.
He rubbed the top of my head with his knuckles, and I swiped his hand away.
“So why would anyone want to douse you with pig’s blood?”
Talia nodded at Finn. “You tell him.”
“Bianca’s probably going to be named Homecoming Princess. She’s leading the exit polls by about a sixteen-point margin,” he announced, his voice cracking. His ears turned as red as his hair because of it, but he cleared his throat and continued. “It’s a comfortable enough lead that I recommend she starts thinking of what she should wear to the game.”
“Ooh,” Ally squealed. “Shopping!”
“She ought to think about going to the dance,” Brady said, reaching for the chocolate cake on my tray. I slapped his hand.
“You’ve been bugging me about going to that stupid dance since the beginning of the year,” I said with a scowl. I gestured to my friends at the table. “We’ve already made plans for that night.”
“A James Bond marathon hardly counts as making plans. You guys do that all the time.”
“Not all the time,” Finn said, adjusting his glasses. “This would only be our fourth one.”
“Fine, but you do stupid movie marathons all the time.”
“Are you still bugging her about going to Homecoming?” a familiar voice behind me said.
I turned and beamed at Brady’s best friend, grateful for the support. “Hey, Tim!”
My brother lifted his chin toward Finn. “Marks over there said Bianca’s going to be class princess.”
“That’s kind of cool,” Tim replied.
“Sure, but then she’ll be the only princess ever to skip the dance.”
“I’ve already told you I’m not going to one of those stupid dances just for the sake of it,” I reminded him. “If I ever do, I’m going with someone who likes me at least as much as I like him.”
Tim ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair and rested his hand on the back of his neck. “Leave her alone, man.”
“Yeah! What he said.” I smiled up at him.
Timothy Dorscher was like my brother. I’d known him since I was about four. He was an inch or two taller than Brady’s six-foot height, and he had these really warm brown eyes that were easy to get lost in, like a chocolate molten lava cake. His straight nose and strong, chiseled jaw along with his lopsided grin made him look older than his seventeen years.
He and Brady did everything together, and I was positive they could read each other's thoughts. I liked to tell my brother that he was only a good quarterback because Tim was his wide receiver and always knew ahead of time where he would throw the ball. But they disagreed as only best friends could, so I knew I could count on Tim to stick up for me whenever Brady gave me a hard time – which was often.
Brady snorted. “Whatever,” he said, taking fries off Talia’s tray and stuffing them into his mouth. “Only a loser would want to take you to Homecoming, anyway.”
Tim punched my brother in the arm before he walked away.
“Don’t you ever buy your own lunch?” Finn asked my brother.
I snickered. Very few people were brave enough to talk to Brady like that.
“Of course not,” my brother replied. “I don’t need to.” He snatched the chocolate cake off my tray and hurried after his best friend.
“Brady!” I yelled after him, my reprimand lost in the din of conversation around me. I turned to Talia. “He is so obnoxious.”
“That cake’s probably about three days old, anyway.”
Ally knocked over my soda, covering her mouth as she gasped. We all jumped up and moved our stuff away from the spreading mess. I pulled napkins off everyone’s trays and tossed them onto the table.
“You guys,” she said under her breath as she helped me wipe up the spill. “Don’t look now, but Dante is looking this way.”
And, of course, because she told us not to look, all of us – Finn included – turned our heads in search of him. Sure enough, Dante Schwartz was staring in our direction.
I didn’t know Dante that well because he ran in a different circle than mine. Even in the one class we had together last year, I didn’t talk to him much. Besides, he only went out with the prettiest girls in our class, which put him way out of my league. He was on a whole other level of cute, with dark hair that fell into piercing hazel eyes in just the right way, a narrow face, and a slight cleft in his chin. And when he smiled, he revealed these perfect, straight teeth in a way that made any warm-blooded girl’s insides melt.
Okay, so I may have spent considerable time studying his profile last year in algebra class.
“Ugh,” Talia said, looking away with a shudder. “He’s such a cretin.”
“He’s cute, though,” Ally said.
“You think everyone is cute,” Talia retorted. “Did you know he got a bunch of kids calling me ‘skunk girl’ all throughout middle school?”
“Schwartz is a jerk,” Finn declared as he sat down and returned his attention to the half-eaten burger before him. “He goes around acting like he’s God’s gift to the girls of Westgate or something. I don’t know what any of you see in him.”
Talia made a face. “I don’t see anything in him. In fact, I can’t stand him. If he’s God’s gift, then I really hope He attached a gift receipt.”
I laughed, but I stole another glance over my shoulder at Dante. His eyes locked with mine before he grinned. I caught my breath and offered a shy smile in return before I looked away
