My Sophomore Year of Rules (School Daze Book 4) Page 2

  A burst of laughter shoots from me. “Definitely. Your hair’s different. You look more like a college guy.”

  “He gained my freshman fifteen and his,” Jana says. “The track coach makes him lift weights on top of running.” She shifts her attention back to me. “Why are you all dressed up?”

  “It’s a skirt and top, not a prom dress,” I say, lifting my chin.

  Ben sets down his milk and throws his arm around me. “Jana, our little baby grew up. We left for three months and she turned into Miss America.”

  Jana scowls at her boyfriend. “Not quite.”

  He steps away from me and lunges for her, smacking his lips against her cheek. “Don’t worry, babe. I still love you more.”

  Jana ignores him, undeterred in her quest to get me busted for something. “Who drove you home from school? I didn’t recognize the car.”

  She must have pulled out our brother Joey’s telescope to check the license plate. “Ayden Berrie.”

  Jana looks at Ben.

  “Soccer dude,” he says, sliding behind her and massaging her shoulders. “Scrawny. Short dark hair, Colette’s taller than him, unless he grew a foot since last year.”

  “We’re about the same height,” I say.

  “Does Mom know you have a boyfriend?” Jana asks.

  “Mom doesn’t know anything, so please stay out of it. And I don’t have a boyfriend. Ayden’s joining the STEM Club.”

  Her dark eyebrows pull together. “Is STEM Club code for a group of hot guys you want to date?”

  “What? No! Remember the mentoring project I worked on with Andy last year? At the middle school?”

  “You’re doing that again? I thought you only signed up because you were infatuated with Andy.”

  “N-no,” I say, but my stutter betrays me. “In the end, I really liked it. Mrs. McCaffrey asked me to coordinate the program this year. Ayden drove me home and we talked about our, uh, meeting this Friday.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Who else will be at this so-called meeting?”

  “So far? Mila Sewick,” I say. “Her boyfriend Jake. And Ayden. And maybe a few other people.” Like the entire football team.

  “Whatever,” Jana says, shrugging me off. She might tease me about having a date, but she clearly can’t picture it being a reality. Even if said date just dropped me off six houses away.

  “Are you finished interrogating me?” I hold up my backpack. “Some of us have homework.”

  My phone buzzes in a text. I wait until I’m alone in my bedroom to read it.

  Mila: Did u talk to Ayden about Friday?

  Word travels like wildfire. I squeeze my phone in one hand, waiting for the quiver in my stomach to pass. It’s weird knowing Mila and Ayden are talking about me.

  Me: Yes. U in?

  Mila: Totally. Let’s Par-tay.

  I feel pressure building like a soda can about to burst. I’m so not ready for serious dating. I can’t even handle drop-offs at the front door.

  Chapter Three

  Rule #3: Absolutely No Unsupervised Parties (unless you call it a Friday night STEM Club meeting)

  “Since when do you wear all-black to STEM Club?” Jana sticks her head in my bedroom on Friday night.

  “Since when do you care how I dress?”

  “I don’t care, but good luck getting past Mom and Dad.” She continues on her merry way, stomping up to her third-floor bedroom. I snap a selfie and send it to Mila, hoping for an unbiased opinion. She sends back a series of thumbs-up and happy face emojis.

  Our ancient water pipes rattle and bang when Jana turns on the faucet. The familiar sound almost makes me miss my sister … it’s been deathly quiet without her hour-long showers shaking the house as she sucks away our hot water supply. After closing my door I shove back my curtain, checking for the telltale glow of headlights signaling Ayden’s arrival. When I spot the outline of his small car rolling up the street, I conceal my black tank top under a winter jacket and scramble down the stairs.

  “I’m going to my meeting,” I say as I throw open the front door.

  “Be home by eleven,” Mom calls from the kitchen. “No, ten. Ten or eleven. Anton, does Colette have a curfew?”

  “Not so fast. Where are you going?” Dad pokes his head out of his office.

  “Out with my friends to talk about the STEM mentoring program.” I bite my lip and shift my eyes away from my father’s heavy stare. Dad’s years of experience in the legal profession have turned him into a human lie detector. Most Friday nights I stay home and binge on Netflix. Any change in my typical behavior pattern can call my entire life into question. I need to stick with my original story or risk a formal interrogation.

  “Who’s driving?” Dad flips on an overhead light. Under the intense glare, his eyes narrow into dark slits. Dang it, I’m sweating now.

  “Mila’s mom,” I say, hoping he won’t follow me outside to validate my story. “I’ll be home by ten-thirty.” After setting my own curfew, I whisk myself out the front door.

  Ayden’s lumbering up the walkway when I meet him halfway, shrugging out of my heavy coat. I catch a whiff of an unfamiliar scent. Hair gel, maybe? Sure enough, the front of his hair is shaped into a dark peak rising above his forehead. His eyes widen when he notices my all black outfit, including the sleeveless top I hid from my parents.

  Stopping short, he darts his gaze toward my front door, which thankfully remains closed. “Ready to go?”

  “Extremely ready.” We hop into his car and take off with a rev of the engine and squeal of tires. I grit my teeth, hoping Dad isn’t wondering why Mila’s mom drives like one of the Mario Kart gang.

  On this cold January night, the recent snowfall adds an extra blanket to the rooftops and square lawns in my part of town. As we head to Jake’s house, I struggle for something to say, while Ayden’s eyes bounce between me and the road. I could ask about robotics, but other than “how’s your robot,” I’ve got nothing.

  Thankfully, my conversation dilemma comes to a quick end, as Jake lives less than a mile away. We pull up in front of his house and Ayden honks loudly. Jake shoots out of his house, races down the driveway and practically dives head-first into the backseat. The scent of apricot pours off him, courtesy of the facial scrub he uses to control his acne. Mila identified the fruity smell when she wore Jake’s jacket last month, and I’d asked her if she changed shampoos.

  “Hey, Ayd. Hey, Colette. Ready to party with the big boys?” Jake straightens up in the back seat, checking his dark wavy hair in the rear-view mirror, making sure everything’s intact.

  “Jake, my man, we’re going to kick party ass,” Ayden says, sounding more confident than usual.

  I yank Mrs. McCaffrey’s STEM Club notes from my pocket and offer them to Jake. “And also talk about the mentoring program?” The smiles drop from the boys’ faces, and I struggle to keep my expression blank. “Just kidding. Party on, sophomores.”

  “We’ll talk about mentoring after we pick up Mila,” Jake suggests, snatching the notes and tossing them onto the seat next to him. “Get that part of the night over with.”

  “Then it’s onward to fun,” Ayden says.

  At Mila’s house, Jake leaps out of the car and sprints up the walkway. He hits the doorbell and paces on the front porch. Mila takes a minute to appear, sliding a sweater over her short-sleeved top. Her hair glints with a new platinum tone in the moonlight. Jake traps her against his broad chest and presses a quick kiss to her lips. Hands linked, they run back to the car and climb in.

  “Where does your mom think you’re going?” I ask, after Mila slides in the backseat.

  “The movies.” She turns to Jake, blinking through her heavily applied eye makeup. “What’s playing?”

  Jake pulls out his phone. “Take your pick of animation. Dragon Lore episode 350, Undercover Cats, or a futuristic version of Little Red Riding Hood in 3D.”

  “Undercover Cats it is,” Mila says. “I’ll check online for a synopsis. What about you, Colette? How’d you get out of the house?”

  “I said I was going to a STEM Club meeting.”

  “Dressed like that?” Mila reaches from the back seat and tugs on the thin strap of my top.

  “Not exactly. I wore a coat to hide party clothes.”

  “And the boys never get questioned about anything. So, if we all have our stories straight, it’s time to roll!” Mila announces. Her asymmetrically-cut hair swishes around her face as she glances from me to Ayden and back to me again. If she expected us to be an official couple by now, then she must be severely disappointed. “Call the meeting to order, Colette.”

  Jake retrieves the notes from their current location under Mila’s butt, and passes them to me.

  I uncrumple the paper and strain to read by the dashboard light. “First STEM Club slash mentoring program meeting called to order.”

  Ayden brakes hard at a yellow light and we all fly forward.

  “Watch it, Berrie,” Jake hollers from the backseat.

  “How many middle school kids signed up for the program?” Mila asks.

  “Thirty. Mrs. McCaffrey said we need at least one more person. Then we’ll have five mentors, each assigned to a group of six.” I stuff my notes back in my coat pocket. I can’t read in the dark and to be honest, it’s hard to focus on STEM Club after I just broke so many rules to sneak out for this party. Ayden and Jake are regulars at these events and Mila tags along when she knows someone from her student council group will be there to keep her company. Before tonight, I haven’t wanted to risk getting caught. But, the personal invitation from Ayden changed my mind.

  “Maybe we’ll recruit the last mentor at the party,” Jake says with a laugh.

  “Yeah,” Ayden says. “Some football player who’s so beered up he’ll forget about it by Monday.” He turns left and drives through a sleepy neighborhood at the edge of town, pulling up in front of a white stucco home.

  “Is this the place?” Jake asks, noting only a few scattered cars in the long driveway.

  “Uh, I think so. I don’t have the exact address.”

  The four of us sit and wait, hoping for some sort of welcome sign. Ten minutes later, the house remains dark and silent.

  “Guys, we have to do this,” Mila says. “I told the student council girls we’d be here. Our reputations depend on it.”

  “She’s right,” Jake agrees (of course). “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “We walk into the wrong house and get arrested for criminal trespassing,” Ayden says.

  “We can deal with that.” Mila turns to me. “Right, Colette?”

  “Sure, we can,” I say, after swallowing a lump in my throat. “I’ll even go in first.”

  The four of us get out of the car and run around to the back door, which is hanging open. When I step inside, party sounds hit my ears. Music, laughter, and taunting shouts. Something crashes below and the wooden floorboards vibrate beneath my feet.

  “In here.” I wave to the others, hanging back in case we need to escape. We huddle together and follow the music, down a staircase, into a steaming cesspool of juniors and seniors.

  “Awesome. Found it,” Ayden says.

  Five steps into the basement, we’re trapped in the push-and-pull of a hundred drunk bodies. My chest tightens as I dart my eyes around, searching for a door or window. No one else seems to mind being squeezed in, but I’m always the person searching for an exit.

  “This way,” Ayden takes me by the hand, tugging me into a dark corner. When his bright blue eyes meet mine, his mouth relaxes into a smile. My breath catches. The shift between us is starting. We’re on the verge of going from friends to … something more. Ayden keeps his hold on me as we nudge into a pocket of space, standing with Mila and Jake, surrounded by the most popular people in school. Kaylyn Kewley, our student council president, openly making out with her boyfriend, Bodhi Dashiell. Carter Grantham, captain of the soccer team, with three field hockey girls, playing some drinking game involving double-fisted chugging. And Ayden is still holding my hand. Hand-holding is monumental. This was so worth breaking a few parental rules.

  “Do you know Blake?” I yell over the loud music.

  Ayden shakes his head. “Not at all. He’s just the party guy … the one with the cool parents who go away every weekend.”

  “I wish I had cool parents,” I say, but then again, watching the chaos going on in front of me, I’m not sure if I do.

  “Let’s find drinks,” Jake says, cupping his hand and pretending to chug. “We can’t stand here like a bunch of losers all night.” As we press through the crowd, I lose my grip on Ayden. Fearing a complete separation, I suck in my breath and attempt to squeeze through a wall of large guys. My elbow jams into a sizable body.

  “Sorry—”

  Hot, beer-scented breath rolls over my face.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” Harry Eakins grabs my arm and pulls me closer. I push away, but I can’t break free of his super-strong grip.

  “Let me go, H—” He leans in, lips hovering over mine. A yelp sticks in my mouth. My free hand flies to Harry’s chest and I shove. Hard.

  Staggering back a step, his heavy-lidded eyes roll up and down, like a faulty window shade. “Jana?”

  “Ugh, no. I’m Colette.”

  He squints one eye. “Are you sure? Colette isn’t tall or … pretty.”

  Yanking my phone from my pocket, I flip on the flashlight and hold it up to the face of a very wasted Harry. He graduated a few years ahead of Jana and they had some type of relationship when she was a sophomore and he was a senior. Then he dumped her the week before the prom. After she’d saved months’ worth of babysitting money and bought a $400 dress.

  “Do you see me now?”

  His pupils constrict to tiny dark specks in their blue-gray irises. “I want to talk to Jana,” he mutters, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from my currently speechless, incredibly unhelpful friends.

  “Give it up, you obnoxious cretin.” Mila finds her voice and lunges forward, latching on to Harry’s arm. “She’s not Jana. And, by the way, Colette is very pretty.”

  “Jana doesn’t want to talk to you,” I say, reasonably sure I’m speaking the truth. I try to gently shake him off, hoping to avoid a scene. Failure. Harry hugs me to his chest like I’m his life preserver. I stumble in his arms. Mila raises her fist and Jake rushes over to drag her away before she hurts Harry, or more likely, herself. Meanwhile, Ayden stands there, gaping, leaving me to play tug of war with the drunk guy.

  “Hands off,” I say, raising my foot to kick his shin. Before I make contact, Harry releases me. I spring back like my body was fired out of a Nerf Blaster, losing my balance in the process. Something hard crashes into the middle of my back.

  “Hey, watch my pizza.” A new hand grabs my arm. I jerk away, totally spooked at the sight of Will Gamen’s shaggy blond hair.

  He stares at me, eyebrows pulled together, until recognition dawns in his expression. “It’s you. The girl with the mouth. The one who owes me a late pass.”

  I start to apologize for hitting his pizza and taking his late pass, but before I complete the sentence, Will turns to Harry.

  “Dude, didn’t you graduate about ten years ago? She’s a sophomore. Leave her alone and get your drunk ass out of here.”

  Harry seems to shrink to half his previous size. “Chill, man. I thought she was someone else.”

  Will shakes his head, amazed. “You tried to kiss her before you bothered to make sure she was the right person?” He coughs out a laugh. “Unbelievable. That’s pretty low, even for you, Eakins.”

  “I was just walking by and he grabbed me,” I tell Will.

  Harry’s vacant eyes bounce around the basement. “Yeah, I must be wasted. I mean, are you sure you’re Colette? Jana’s sister? The smart one who’s … not very, um …”

  “Do not say it. She’s beautiful, damn it,” Mila hollers, getting up in Harry’s face. “Stunning. Gorgeous.”

  I’ve had enough. “For your information, I’ve been compared to Miss America. And lots of Miss Americas become doctors or lawyers or go to Ivy League colleges.” I turn my head a fraction and catch Will laughing again. Because it’s the closest inanimate object and I’m hoping to avoid hitting a person, I grab the end of his pizza box and shove it. The cardboard flies back, pushing into his gut.

  Will whooshes out a breath of air. “Whoa, easy there. I’m on your side.”

  Still clenching one side of the pizza box, I yank it back toward me. “You’re laughing. That’s not helping the situation.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I need to stay out of this.” He lifts the pizza high above his head. “Out of the way, people.”

  “Hey, Gamen!” Ayden decides now’s the time to greet Will, who plays soccer and also kicks or punts or does something like that for the football team. Will’s face blanks as he tries to place Ayden.

  “Uh, JV sweeper. Ayden Berrie?”

  Will’s eyes widen. “Berrie! The guy who’s always sliding on the turf. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you in the upright position.” He fist bumps Ayden and tries to squeeze by, but Harry’s like a fifty-ton barge blocking the narrow access to open seas.

  “Yeah, her voice is different. Jana doesn’t squeak,” he mutters, rubbing his hand over his face. “I didn’t know they were twins.”

  “We’re not twins, Harry,” I say, lowering my naturally high-pitched voice. “I’m Colette Rodriguez. You haven’t seen me or my sister in at least two years.”

  Before Will abandons me, I shoot him a pleading look. “Can you tell him to back off? Please?”

  His jaw locks in place. “Haven’t I already helped you enough?” His eyes travel from me to Harry and with a sigh, Will steps between us. Up close, he smells faintly of mint, but mostly of beer, like he brushes his teeth after every drink.

  “I must look a lot like my sister when she was a sophomore,” I explain.

  Will scoffs. “That’s no excuse.” He calls to a guy standing a few feet behind him. “Smitty.”

  Smitty jumps to attention. “Sure, Will, uh, Gamen?”

  Will hands over the pizza. “Take this. Guard it with your life.” He turns back to Harry and places a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go, Eakins. Upstairs until you dry out. Clear your head before Miss America sucker punches your confused ass.”