My Clueless Broken Heart (School Dayz #3) Read online

  “Lock the door if you want privacy,” she spits back.

  “Santa already brought Becca her gifts,” Travis tells her. He kisses me goodbye, hands me the box with the flashlight inside and then shoves me through the doorway.

  I glance back at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Gran invited you.”

  He nods. “See you then.”

  The door closes behind us with a soft click.

  “How did mom find me?” I ask Avery on our short trek through the backyard.

  “She guessed. That’s why she sent me to find you. Why are they always so mad when you’re with Travis?”

  “Because they only see the boy who works for Gran. They can’t imagine him as anything else.”

  “That’s not very smart of them, is it?” Avery points to my box. “What did he get you?”

  I lift my wrist.

  “A charm bracelet! Aww, he’s so sweet.”

  I show her the flashlight. “He doesn’t like the old one I take with me to the treehouse.”

  She laughs. “Only Travis would pick out something useful and turn it into something romantic. Did he like what you gave him?”

  “I think so. He saved a picture of me from his graduation party, so I don’t have to give him the one Dad messed up last night.”

  “Messed up accidentally on purpose?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  And because she’s an awesome sister, Avery wisely drops the subject.

  ***

  After Avery discovered the truth about Santa, we moved our family gift-exchange to Christmas Eve. Delayed gratification isn’t one of the Thornton family’s strong points. This year, my parents give me an age appropriate gift; an SAT prep book. Dozens of sample tests to practice in my free time. They shouldn’t have.

  I also open silver hoop earrings from Gran and a “Best Sister” mug from Avery.

  “Where’s my gift?” she asks. I hand her the one present left under the tree. I paid a special visit to her favorite store in the mall, the one that looks like a glitter machine barfs every hour on the hour, and picked up a sequined, bejeweled hoodie with a purple air-brushed ballerina on the front. She squeals, rips off the tags, and tugs it on over her pajamas.

  Before falling asleep, I send Travis a message.

  Becca: I’m wearing the bracelet.

  I twist my wrist so the crystal star catches the moonlight.

  My phone buzzes.

  Travis: I’m reading the book.

  I tap out a reply.

  Becca: Is it funny?

  Travis: LMAO.

  Becca: Seriously?

  Travis: It’s cool.

  I glance out the window. Thin lines of yellow light squeeze between the half-open blinds in his bedroom, brightening the white snow below.

  Becca: Can you see me?

  Travis: Yes. Nice reindeer pajamas.

  Becca: Haha.

  Travis: Your picture is sleeping next to me. Jealous?

  Becca: Intensely envious.

  Travis: Merry Christmas, Becca.

  I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mr. Brennen and Travis join our Christmas party late in the afternoon. Mr. Brennen gives me a huge hug, lifting me off the floor. When he puts me back down, I turn to Travis, who proceeds to slow-punch my arm.

  Before he pulls away, I circle my fingers around his wrist. “What’s that for?”

  He gives me one of his all-knowing smirks. “Because you don’t like when I’m inappropriate in public.”

  We find my parents in the dining room, surrounded by their scientist friends, discussing how to prevent lions from interrupting your filming session. Dad pauses in the middle of his dissertation on the best ways to avoid contracting malaria to say hello. Coincidentally, Travis wrote a term paper on infectious diseases last term and he contributes something about vaccination effectiveness to the conversation while I hunt down two sodas.

  By the time I return, Dad and Travis are comparing and contrasting Pre-Med curriculums. Holy wow. Their capacity for uninteresting conversation astonishes me.

  Finally, Val arrives to add some excitement to this boring as burnt toast party.

  “Running hug!” My overly-enthusiastic, slightly giddy friend charges, nearly knocking me to the floor. She checks out Travis from afar. “He’s the cutest. How was your first Christmas together?”

  “It was nice,” I say, not feeling the desire to elaborate on the last twenty-four hours.

  Val grabs my arm and pushes up my sleeve. “I need to see the bracelet.” She’s oohing and ahhing when Travis breaks away from my dad. “Travis, are you sure you don’t have a long-lost brother?”

  He slides an arm around her waist. “Come with me for a minute and I’ll tell you about my better-looking relatives.” Then he turns to me. “Get lost, Becca.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You talked to Josh. I want to talk to Val.”

  I huff and glare. “Fine. Do you want a soda, Val?”

  She shoots me a superior smile. “Yes, please. In a glass, not a can. And a handful of those mini pretzels would be nice.”

  Less than three minutes later, I find them hiding behind the Christmas tree. By this point, Travis knows the details of my thin dating history and a list of recent crushes. Thank goodness I never confessed my secret feelings about Travis to anyone. I was smart enough never to go there, even with Val or Avery. Before I claw apart Val’s braided up-do, Travis shifts topics and asks about soccer, always a smart idea if you want to get on my best friend’s good side.

  I spend the rest of the day connected to Travis, holding his hand or leaning into him while we hang out with Val, Corinne, and Avery. Every time I see my parents, ripples of discomfort wash over me, dampening my mood. But Travis is here. Mom and Dad aren’t making total asses of themselves—not yet, anyway. I push my worries aside and continue with my holiday.

  When the last guests drift out into the frosty night, Gran slides out of her good pumps and props her tired feet up on her recliner, looking like she’s ready to set sail on a good three-day sleep.

  “You know what comes next, right?” Travis takes my hand and leads me into a private corner.

  I take an unneeded second to think. “New Year’s Eve?”

  “Are you free?”

  “Why, do you need a date?”

  “I don’t need a date.” He kisses the top of my head. “I want to be with you.”

  “Let me check my calendar. Usually, I stay home with Gran and Avery and we play Just Dance on the Wii. Does that make me sound like a total nerd?”

  Travis laughs. “You just sound young.”

  “Did you go out with Chelsea last year? Or did you stay in and practice integrated martial arts together?”

  “Hilarious. Josh started busting my ass about her the minute he found out we were seeing each other.” He yanks on my hand and I lose my balance, falling into him. My face brushes the starched fabric of his dress shirt.

  I steady myself before backing up a step. “What does Josh say about me?”

  The teasing glint in his eyes disappears. “Why do you care?”

  “For the same reason you sucked up to Val tonight. I want your friends to like me.”

  “Everyone likes you, Becca.” He kisses me lightly, his no-fail get-Becca-to-shut-up tactic. “So, let me know about New Year’s Eve.”

  “Sure. I’ll work on dumping my dance partners.”

  “If your grandmother and Avery complain, I’ll come here. A Just Dance party is cool. Not the dance part, but the being with you part.”

  “Don’t you want to do something more age appropriate?”

  “You worry too much about being appropriate.”

  “Inappropriate gets me grounded. Do you want to spend New Year’s Eve together or not?”

  He blows out a quick breath. “Yes. And I don’t care what we do.”

  “I have to find out about—”
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br />   “Your parents.”

  “Yes. Them.”

  “I’m kissing you at midnight, even if they’re standing between us.”

  “That would be challenging. I thought you didn’t want to start trouble.”

  The gleam in his eye returns. “Kissing you is more important. I’ll deal with the fallout later.” He touches his lips to mine again. By the time he walks out the door, I’m sold on the idea.

  ***

  For the rest of the holiday week I strive for good behavior. Travis, Avery, and I meet Val and Corinne at the park while my parents’ day-trip to Washington D.C. for a primatologist convention. Being outnumbered by girls never seems to bother Travis, not even when Avery and Corinne beg him to haul their sleds up the tallest, steepest hill. He shoves them back down fast enough to send them airborne when they hit a bump in the icy snow, their screams echoing through the frosty air.

  Val sighs. “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”

  I watch Travis chase the girls on his snowboard. “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Val likes to analyze relationships, and possibly figure out why she isn’t in one.

  I nudge the toe of my boot into a pile of slush. “He hates shopping and refuses to sit through a chick flick.”

  Val snorts. “Definite grounds for dumping.”

  “And sometimes he’s quiet.”

  “That’s a positive. More opportunity for you to boss him around.”

  I lift my chin. “I’m not bossy.”

  “No, not all of the time,” Val cheerfully agrees.

  “And, not that I care, but he doesn’t drive a nice car.”

  “Neither do you. Admit it, the truck turns you on. So does the fact that your parents hate him.”

  A knot of anger pokes out from my chest. “What, you think I’m just rebelling?”

  “No. Not just. But I think getting a rise out of them is a check on the plus side.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not dating Travis to make my parents mad. To be honest, I had no idea it would upset them this much.”

  “I know that’s not why you’re with him. Even you wouldn’t fake liking someone just to piss off your mom and dad. But they don’t know that.”

  I swing my attention back to Travis. “Gran likes him. She trusts him, too.”

  “So, what does he say about Marlowe and Richard?” Val’s one of the few people on Earth who doesn’t idolize my parents. She’s seen and heard enough over the years to understand their true nature.

  “Travis doesn’t want to start trouble. And I think he wants them to like him, although he hasn’t said that out loud. But I feel like no matter what he does, they’ll never change their minds about him.”

  “Then you need to decide if changing their minds is more important than being with him.”

  At the bottom of the hill, Travis hikes Avery on his back and stomps through the snow to retrieve her pink boot, which launched in the air during their last run. Corinne scoops up a handful of slushy ice and smashes Travis in the chest. He drops Avery and dives toward Corinne. When he face plants in the snow, the three of them laugh hysterically.

  “I want to be with him,” I say.

  Val lays a gloved hand on my shoulder. “Then carry on, my friend. You didn’t ask my opinion, by the way, but I’m on Team Travis.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Dad and I have a surprise for you.” Mom says, her chirpy voice unsettling my post-holiday fogged brain. “Your first college tour. One of my old professors invited us for a visit.”

  Half an hour later, I find myself on the way to an Ivy League university, one too far from Travis to warrant serious consideration, but no one asks my opinion. Driving with Mom and Dad is like roadtripping trip with two older cousins, the ones you barely remember from last year’s family reunion.

  “Becca, have you given any more thought to your major?” Dad asks as we speed along I-95 en route to what my parents call ‘the scene of the crime’. Meaning where they met and fell deeply in love. Revolting.

  “Uh, no.” I yank out the earbuds I’m using as a sound barrier. “Probably something in liberal arts.”

  “You won’t consider science at all?” Mom frowns. “You passed the AP Biology test last year and you were only a sophomore.” Flash back to frog dissection, a required lab for the honors class. The smell of formaldehyde combined with the sight of amphibian guts pretty much destroyed my weak aspiration of a future in biology.

  “Yeah, but I’m not passionate about science like you and Dad. You love what you do, right?”

  “Love is a strong word,” Dad says, sounding surprisingly like a guy. Even though he isn’t talking about girls, I still crack a smile.

  “Don’t you love monkeys, Dad?”

  “I love the end result of our work. Getting to that point isn’t always fun.”

  My smile widens. “Primates don’t always cooperate during filming, huh?”

  “You wouldn’t believe what we go through just to get two seconds of usable footage,” Mom chimes in.

  “What? Bribery?”

  “The last time we tried bribing the chimps we also attracted lions, hyenas and other, less desirable scavengers.”

  “Oh. That must stink.”

  “To put it mildly,” Dad says. He clears his throat, probably warning Mom to kill the conversation before I start asking questions that will further turn me off from primatology field work. “We’ll introduce you to some of our old professors today. Maybe they can spark an interest in life sciences.”

  “Wow. It’s hard to believe your professors still teach.”

  Mom laughs. “Believe it or not, they do. Who retires from an easy job like that? They aren’t the ones living in the steamy rain forest.”

  “Maybe teaching will be our next job, babe,” Dad says, covering her hand with his.

  Mom scoffs. “You wouldn’t last one day with teenagers, Richard.”

  “Yeah, we’re a lot harder to interact with than monkeys, Dad,” I agree.

  “Ah, but you smell better.”

  “Not always. Gym class would be rough. Especially the boys’ locker room. Not that I know for certain, but I’m just guessing.”

  “I wonder. Can you turn that into a science fair project? Comparing the odiferous compounds in a locker room to an orangutan habitat,” Mom says and the three of us laugh.

  Speaking of boys, I wonder what Travis is doing right now.

  ***

  Behind the ivied walls of the university, I meet a string of biology professors who drool over my parents rather than promote their school to me and the other unlucky visitors stuck on our campus tour from hell. I’m not feeling the least bit neglected, though, because the unanticipated free time allows me to trade texts with Travis, who’s sitting at home, vegging out in front of the TV.

  At Dad’s insistence, we check out the state-of-the-art labs, where my parents enjoy being worshipped and praised by a bunch of students who recognize them the instant we enter the building. The harsh light reflecting off the stainless-steel tables combined with the smell of fermenting body fluids must set off a peculiar reaction in my parents, because I notice them reaching for each other, all doe-eyed.

  “Remember our first lab together, Marlowe?” Dad asks.

  Mom smiles. “How could I forget? You were standing alone in the middle of the room, holding a box of slides. You looked lost, so I offered to let you be my partner.”

  “Then I mislabeled the paramecium and the planaria because I was looking at you instead of the specimens.”

  “By midnight you were practically begging me for my results.”

  “I invited you to the movies to thank you.”

  “Wait. Hold up.” I raise my hand, interrupting their voyage down memory lane. “You and Mom cheated? She gave you her answers?”

  My father clears his throat a few times. “Well, I may not recall the exact details, but I don’t consider working cooperatively on a lab assignment to be c
heating. One thing I do remember is how beautiful your mother looked that night.”

  Ugh. Gag me.

  Mom drapes a delicate arm around my shoulders. “Wait until you discover your passion, Becca, and find someone who shares your sense of purpose. It’s the stuff dreams are made of.”

  Only my parents would find romance in the most sterile, unromantic place on the planet. I think of Travis and his slime mold experiment, and for some reason, I smile. “Good dreams, Mom. But they’re your dreams, not mine.”

  A tight grin appears on Dad’s face. “Did you ever consider this idea, Becks? There may be a one or two percent chance that your mother and I actually know what we’re talking about?”

  “Possibly a very small chance. But highly unlikely,” I tell him. For the rest of the tour, the three of us joke back and forth like a normal family, and I remember what it’s like to have parents. I don’t let myself get used to the feeling, though. Reality always comes back to haunt me.

  ***

  Over the next few days, my parents spend more time fundraising and insist on dragging Avery and me to a string of public events. This means I miss out on not-watching movies with Travis in favor of wearing dresses, itchy tights, and heels. By now, I’ve learned to spout enough primatology jargon to get through a cocktail party, but Avery always outperforms me. I just can’t fake her level of enthusiasm.

  While I’m on a mission to impress a slew of executive producers from The Nature Channel and secure their funding for my parents’ next movie, Travis comes to the conclusion that he’s no longer content to wait around for my parents’ departure. Left with too much free time to think of ways to cause trouble, our clandestine relationship becomes his twisted form of holiday week entertainment.

  My phone buzzes constantly with coded messages leading me to secret locations. We sneak into the garage, grabbing twenty parent-free minutes in the backseat of Gran’s old Cadillac. I report to the treehouse, where Travis appears with blankets and a broom. After brushing the snow from the wooden floor, he insists on showing me how to use my new flashlight. The demonstration takes a full hour, and by the time I drop back down the ladder, I’m a spot to flood expert.