Текст книги "Fusion"

Автор книги: Tessa Teevan

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

2002

“WHOSE DAMN IDEA WAS it to do an eighties-themed prom?” Jace groaned as he tossed the flyer on to the table in the lunch room. “The only thing I remember about that decade was my Uncle Ross’s mullet.”

“What’s the problem, Jace?” Jenna asked innocently. As head of the prom committee, she had come up with the idea. She and Chris had been coordinating their outfits for weeks already. “You don’t think Mallory will be able to pull off the big-hair look?”

He groaned again, and this time, I think it was for a different reason. He rubbed a hand over his face. During his year-long relationship with Mallory—ugh, yes, that Mallory—they’d run pretty hot and cold. I wasn’t sure what he saw in the girl, especially when he had Lexi.

Even though Sierra hadn’t let me play matchmaker with those two, they’d been virtually inseparable since they’d met two years ago. They were pretty much the less cool version of Sierra and me. And just like how blind Sierra and I had been, Jace and Lexi were equally as impaired. Anyone at school could see that they had the hots for each other, but instead of going for it, they both got into relationships with people they clearly weren’t that into. And those little nudges and pushes Sierra had promised? We’d never gotten the chance, but I was determined that, by graduation night, those two would finally lay it all on the line.

Speaking of. Lexi sat at the end of the table with her boyfriend, Aaron. The guy was on the wrestling team, and there was something about him I didn’t like. But Sierra had warned me to butt out, so I did. That didn’t mean I didn’t keep an eye on him or my ears open. If he hurt Lexi, he’d deal with me.

Chris drummed his fingers on the table and called out to me. I looked up and saw him staring at me with a shit-eating grin. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on table. This wasn’t a good sign.

“So I have an idea.”

Really not a good sign.

Jenna beamed beside him, and I could only imagine what Chris had come up with this time.

“Do I even want to know?” I asked as I searched for Sierra.

“Trust me.”

Those were famous last words if I’d ever heard them. “Okay. Lay it on me, Chris.”

He rose from the table and held his hands up, spreading them apart as he said, “Mullets.”

Pure confidence exuded from him, and satisfaction spread across his face. He clearly thought he was a genius.

“Mullets?” I asked before I took a sip of my soda.

“Mullets. It’s an eighties-themed prom. Like McAllister said, the thing everyone remembers from the eighties is the mullets. It’s our senior prom. Our last school dance. Shouldn’t we go out with a bang? I say we do it. The powder-blue suits. The Ruffled shirts. And the mullets. We have plenty of time to grow it.”

“You’re telling me that you want me to grow a mullet? You’re crazy, dude.”

In all honesty, though, I was intrigued by the idea. But I knew how Sierra would feel about it. She wouldn’t be down for her date having a business-in-the-front, party-in-the-back hairstyle.

“Dude, it’s not like I’m asking you to shave your head or anything. What? Are you chicken? Don’t think you can pull the look off? That’s a shame, Banks. A damn shame.”

“I can pull it off just fine, Chris. I’m just worried you can’t,” I said defensively. What the hell was he talking about? I could make a mullet look good.

“Then what’s the problem?”

I hesitated, and that’s when he went in for the kill.

He leaned closer and locked his eyes on mine. “If you do it, I’ll do it. Come on, Banks. I. Dare. You.”

And that was it.

I had to do it.

I was growing a mullet for prom. I just had to tell Sierra and live long enough to make it happen.

Gotta love little sisters. Apparently, word had traveled around school of what Chris and I were planning, and Lexi informed her sister before I could. Then Lexi was kind enough to warn me of the way Sierra’s eyes had flashed wild and her cheeks had reddened—she had been close to foaming at the mouth. I figured Lexi was exaggerating on that last part, but this was Sierra. I had to be prepared for anything, even though I was pretty sure she’d find it funny. At least, that’s what I thought.

“Jeremy. Jordan. Banks!” Sierra’s shriek echoed through the gazebo.

We still met there every night to walk on the beach and talk about our days even though we spent most of them together. It was our special place, and with the both of us going off to college in a few months, we wouldn’t be back there often. So we spent as much time there as we could together. Tonight, however, clearly wasn’t going to be as peaceful as usual.

I rose from the step I’d been sitting on and turned to greet her, bracing myself for her reaction.

“You have got to be freaking kidding me! Are you out of your mind?”

That’s what she led with as soon as she saw me. I winced at her incredulous tone.

She was usually laid-back, so this amount of wrath had been unexpected. When I stepped closer to her, her hands were placed firmly on her hips. She was glaring at me. Shooting daggers, even. But, fortunately, she wasn’t foaming at the mouth.

“Nice to see you, too, babe,” I said, giving her the grin that usually calmed her down. This time, however, it didn’t.”

“A mullet, Jeremy? Really?”

“I mean…it was Chris’s idea.”

“Do you do everything Chris tells you to do?” She waved a hand. “Don’t answer that. I already know you do.”

“Hey, he dared me to kiss you, and look how perfectly that turned out.”

That was a huge mistake. I knew this, when, her nostrils flared and her eyes flashed wild.

“He what?!”

“Sierra, you know about that. The night of the beach party.”

Maybe Lexi had been right. Sierra’s eyes were flashing wild, and if I could have seen her face better, there might have been some foam at the corner of her mouth.

“So you’re telling me that the only reason you kissed me that night was because Chris dared you?!”

I sighed. There was no way I was getting out of this. “No, of course not. The reason we kissed was because of the stupid game. And then, after we left the closet, he whispered in my ear, daring me to kiss you.”

“So, once again, you only kissed me because he dared you to?”

Someone could’ve handed me a shovel then. I was apparently in the mood to dig my own grave.

“Are you bleeding?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I was usually really good in these types of situations. I was sort of a PMS-whisperer. I always knew what to do and say to make sure my head wasn’t ripped off by one of the three close girls in my life. And, typically, Sierra was the least hormonal.

Apparently, this was no longer the case.

“Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“Umm, no?” I replied innocently, hoping she’d think she’d heard me wrong.

She didn’t.

She crossed the distance between us and jabbed a finger into my chest. I wince at her hard poke.

“As a matter of fact, I am. What of it?!”

My hand rose and enclosed her little finger. I placed my other one on the small of her back and pulled her lower half into me. She stared up at me, and I hated when her eyes glistened with tears. So I leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I’m sorry, Sierra. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She sniffled, and I took it as a sign to keep going.

“Baby, we’ve been together for nearly three years. Best friends for much longer than that. I think you know how I feel about you. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. And, every single day, I fall more in love with you. Is it true that Chris dared me to kiss you? Yes. It is. But he did it because he knew I’d been in love with you longer than I could even admit to myself. He knew I was too chickenshit, too scared to do it on my own. So he gave me that little push, and I fucking took it. And I’ve never looked back. I never will.”

“Chris knew before you did?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“I think everyone knew before we did, don’t you think?”

“True.”

Relief flooded my veins. “So you see why I can’t not accept Chris’s dares? And plus, it’s kinda perfect. We’ll be an authentic eighties couple.”

Even though she tried to frown, a small smile played on her lips. Her finger dug harder into my chest. “I am not going to my senior prom with some Billy Ray wannabe.”

I frowned and took a step back, clutching my chest and feigning horror. “I am not, nor will I ever want to be, Billy Ray Cyrus.”

She placed her hands back on her hips and raised an eyebrow at me. I stepped closer to her, and she stepped back.

“You can call me MacGyver.”

“No,” she answered firmly as she set her chin in defiance.

I closed the distance between us and grasped her waist, bringing her in closer. Then I dipped my head and whispered a kiss on her lips before moving mine to hover over her ear. “How about John Stamos?”

She shuddered as my breath tickled her ear, and I knew I had her. When I pulled away, she was struggling not to smile. Her hands slid up my chest and wrapped around my neck. She used her fingers to toy with my hairline as if she were trying to imagine what I’d look like with a mullet.

“John Stamos,” I whispered again, grinning down at her.

“I guess I can work with that,” she finally relented.

Uncle Jesse for the win.

I’d been livid when I’d found out about Chris’s not-so-brilliant plan. And even more livid when Lexi had informed me that Jeremy had accepted the dare. In hindsight, I had been a little angrier than the situation had called for, and even though Jeremy had oh-so-astutely pointed it out, it was definitely the hormones.

He’d been growing out his hair for the past couple of months, but he refused to get it cut or styled until the day of prom. He wanted it to be a surprise, not only for me, but for everyone. I was both nervous and excited to see how it turned out. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter what his hairstyle was like. All that mattered was that we were together, we had fun, and we spent the night making memories we’d fondly remember for the rest of our lives.

“Oh, Lexi,” I breathed out, very reminiscent of what she’d done the day I had gone to my first dance with Jeremy. “You look beautiful.”

“You think?” she asked nervously as she smoothed her skirt out.

I’d joined in with Jeremy on the ’80s theme, having lucked out that Mom still had an old bridesmaid dress that was pink, poofy, and utterly ridiculous. I loved it. Lexi, however, had decided to stick with the times. The svelte, black dress she’d chosen fit her slim frame perfectly. White flowers adorned the left side. It made her tan skin glow and accentuated her best features.

“Absolutely. You look amazing,” I informed her, giving her another once-over. “Jace’s jaw is going to drop to the floor when he sees you. I hope I’m there to witness it.”

Her eyes raced to meet mine, and she brought her hands to her stomach. “Jace? I’m going with Aaron. You know that.”

I waved her off. “Whatever. I’ve seen the way both guys watch you. Jace will definitely be checking you out.”

“Sierra, how many times do I have to tell you?”

“You’re just friends, blah. You know, that’s what Jeremy and I always said.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s going to Alabama in the fall.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tuscaloosa isn’t that far away. And isn’t that more of a reason to tell him how you feel now?”

She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m with Aaron.”

I wanted to grasp her shoulders and shake some sense into her, but if she wanted to live in denial, I guess she’d have to figure it out for herself. I just hoped it would happen sooner rather than later.

“Okay, okay. I’ll shut up about it.”

Lexi cleared her throat and darted towards the hall. “Excuse me. I need to retouch my mascara,” she said, not looking in my direction.

It was my turn to sigh. Perhaps I’d been wrong in not letting Jeremy meddle. Jace and Lexi had been riding this friendship train for way too long, and it was only a matter of time until it derailed.

“Oh, honey, you look so beautiful.” Mom standing in the doorway. “And that dress looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

I grinned. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe one day you can wear it to my wedding,” I teased.

She laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe my little girl is going to her last school dance,” Mom said, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “It feels like just yesterday that Jeremy was picking you up for homecoming. And here you are, nearly three years later. Soon, you’ll be graduating and starting your own life. I’m not old enough for this.”

I smiled at her. “You knew even back then that Jeremy and I would end up together, didn’t you?”

“Honey, if you think Lydia and I haven’t been planning your wedding for years, you’re crazy.” She laughed, and I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. But, knowing our moms, I was pretty sure she was serious.

“Do you think it’s crazy? That I found the person I want to spend my life at the age of eight? I know in my heart that Jeremy’s it for me. Is that insane?”

She tilted her head, her lips curling in a Mom-knows-best kinda smile. “For most people, yes. I’d call it crazy. The logical woman inside me wants to tell you that you need to experience more, but I know what I see when I look at you two, and that’s the real deal. Just do me a favor.”

I waited for her to continue.

“Just don’t go eloping on graduation day or anything like that.”

I laughed. “Mom, trust me. As much as I love Jeremy and can’t wait to be Mrs. Banks, I have no desire to be a teenage bride. I can absolutely promise you I won’t get married on graduation day.”

“Good. Because, when you do become Mrs. Jeremy Banks, you will make the most beautiful bride. But I’m still not wearing that dress.”

The doorbell rang, and Lexi squealed in the hallway.

Mom glanced back at me. “I want you to have fun tonight, but keep an eye on her?”

“I would’ve even if you hadn’t asked. And Jeremy will, too.”

The sound of Dad’s booming laugh echoed down the hall, and I was suddenly eager as ever to see Jeremy.

When I stepped into the room, Jeremy sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t a magical, eye-opening, enlightening experience like it had been with homecoming. We’d seen each other through multiple dances, but it still sent a little fluttering throughout my belly to know that, regardless of how many times he saw me all dolled up, I still affected him. That was one of the many things I loved about Jeremy. He always made me feel beautiful.

“You look gorgeous, Sierra. Just like your mother,” he announced for the whole room to hear.

Mom chuckled, shaking her head, and Dad, who’d been standing right next to him, elbowed him right in the side. He let out a little, “Oof,” but it didn’t dampen the grin on his face.

“Sorry, Nick.”

I stared at his shoes, not quite sure if I was ready for the big reveal. Instead, I slowly raked my gaze up, enjoying the way his powder-blue suit fit him perfectly, showing off his firm legs, his lean waist, and his toned arms. I hesitated when I got to his chest before I finally mustered up the courage to look up.

I laughed.

Like, laughed out loud. Bent-over, clutching-my-side, couldn’t-catch-my-breath type laughing.

Jeremy frowned and gingerly patted the top of his hair so as not to mess it up.

It was perfection.

Part of me wondered if he’d printed out a photo of John Stamos circa 1988 and told the stylist, “Emulate that,” because he’d captured his hairstyle to a T. It was tall and poofy on the top but expertly tamed with spray. From my vantage point, the back was wavy, and I was surprised at how long it was. He’d been mostly wearing ball caps or pulling it back at school with Jenna’s help. Even during our make-out sessions, he’d refused to let me touch it. And now, I knew why.

One small section of bang hung on the left side of his forehead, giving him that sexy-’80s-bad-boy look—if there were such a thing.

In short, I loved it, and I couldn’t believe I’d ever been against this idea. He was still frowning at me, so I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around his neck. My fingertips played with the ends of his hair.

“Well?” he asked, sounding nervous.

“John Stamos has nothing on you, Jeremy Banks,” I told him, giving him a wink.

His frown turned into a smile, and he leaned down, smashing his lips against mine. He only pulled back when my dad cleared his throat. His grin was sheepish, and he want to run a hand through his hair, but he stopped at the last second.

“Jeremy, a word?” Dad asked.

I groaned. “Dad, come on.”

“It’s fine, babe,” Jeremy said, giving me a kiss on the forehead. “I can handle it.”

And, handle it, he apparently did, because when he and Dad came back, they were chatting like old chums.

When Nick asked to have a word, I knew exactly what it would entail. He’d done it before every dance I’d taken Sierra to, and I’d never begrudged him for that. Nick Sullivan loved his daughters, and he’d kick any ass he had to if they were hurt. I respected the hell out of him for it, so if I had to sit through another round of “don’t you dare touch my daughter,” I’d do it.

I followed him into the kitchen and stood as he poured himself two fingers of scotch. He held the bottle up to me in a gesture that was asking if I wanted any. Again, he’d done this before.

“No, sir. I’m driving,” I informed him.

“Yes, you are, and I expect you to remember that tonight when you’re driving my daughter to and from the dance. And at the after party. I don’t care what the other kids are doing. You protect her first and foremost. Got it?”

“I’m always careful when Sierra’s in the car. I’ll never let any harm come to her.”

He nodded then sipped his drink. “Look, Jeremy, you’re a good kid. You always have been, and Vicky and I love you as if you’re our own son.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. “I hope one day that’ll be the case.”

Nick stopped mid-drink. Then he set his glass down on the counter. “Right. About that. When I say you need to protect my daughter, I mean in everything. Not just in the car. Fuck,” he muttered before downing the contents of his glass. He pulled at his tie. “What I mean is…protection, son. Always.

My eyes widened as I realized what he was trying to say. I backed away from the counter and shook my head profusely. “No, no, no. No protection,” I mumbled, which caused his face to turn twelve shades of red.

“Excuse me?” he hissed.

“No! What I meant was it’s not like that. Sierra and I…” Oh, God, was this seriously happening? “We aren’t sleeping together. We haven’t…we haven’t taken that step.”

Nick stood up straight, the color returning to his face. “Oh. Oooohhh.” He took a moment to let it sink in. Then he pointed at me. “And don’t you dare start. Got it?”

“Aye aye, sir,” I agreed, giving him a mock salute.

“It’s not that I thought… I mean, no father wants to think about that, but I… Oh hell, can you not tell Sierra about this?” he asked, crosses the kitchen to pour more scotch. This time, I would’ve accepted an offer.

“Well, sir, that leaves me with a dilemma. You’re asking me to keep something from your daughter, but at the same time, I do think she’d be okay not knowing about this conversation. Is this another one of your tests?”

“No, not a test. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this between us. At the same time, I’ll understand that you and Sierra have no secrets.”

“I think this one can stay between us. No doubt.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “All right, kid. Have fun. No touching, no kissing, no drinking. Got it?” he said with a stern smile.

Again, he got a mock salute. “I don’t like to make promises I can’t keep,” I told him, and he laughed.

“Watch it, Jeremy. Or I’ll lock her away in her room for the rest of her life.”

And, in that moment, I turned serious. “All due respect, Nick, but if you did that, I’d just spend the rest of my life looking for the key, and I wouldn’t care who I’d have to get past in the process.”

He came up beside me and slapped a hand on my shoulder. “I know you would. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll never stand in the way of your happiness with my baby girl. But if you ever hurt her…”

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself long enough for you to exact your revenge.”

“Good. Now, I believe you have a beautiful girl waiting for you.”

My eyes lit up. “You’re right about that.”

“And one more thing, Jeremy,” he said, stopping me in my tracks. “No more talking about my hot wife. Get your own,” he warned.

“Oh, I plan on it,” I informed him.

“Maybe when she’s thirty. Maybe,” he said, laughing.

I laughed, too. There was no way I’d last that long, and I told him that. His laughter died down, but I had a feeling he was okay with it.