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

  I gasp. “Shut up! You make us sound like—”

  “A couple of Mom’s chimpanzees mating?”

  I lunge for my sister as Travis bursts out laughing. She makes a run for it, the heels of her boots clicking on the stone tile. The front door opens and slams shut. I chase her to the truck and pounce. By the time I’ve exacted revenge by yanking the sparkly clips from her hair, Travis has flipped on the porch light, pulled the front door securely closed, and jiggled the brass handle to check the lock.

  “At least he’s responsible.” Avery slides her hair clips back into place and leans her head out of the open window. “Speed it up, Travis! I’m starving!”

  ***

  Bella Pizza is a dive-category restaurant with white cinderblock walls, plastic chairs, and eighties Pac Man video games. On this chilly November night, slices fly out of the two huge pizza ovens to accommodate the holiday weekend crowd. The air’s filled with an aroma of fried onions and sweet tomato sauce, luring in hordes of hungry high school and college students.

  Travis waves to friends calling his name, but doesn’t stop to talk to anyone. Avery breaks away from us and makes a beeline to a recently vacated booth near the front windows, marking her territory before the last group’s plates are even cleared from the tabletop.

  Without bothering to pick up a menu, we decide on a large pie and three Cokes. I shrug out of my jacket and by the time I’m settled, our drinks have arrived. With so many people I know in shouting distance, I’m hyper aware of Travis sitting next to me and can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched. Or talked about. Or both.

  I’m right. I’ve barely sipped my drink before a blond sporting knee-high boots and a form-fitting dress (to use one of Gran’s polite descriptions) saunters over to us. She looks vaguely familiar. Last year’s prom queen? Homecoming Court? I can’t place her. Under the table, Travis’s left hand clenches into a fist.

  “Hi, Travis. Everyone’s asking about you. Where ya been?” She bends down to air kiss him near his cheek, revealing an inch of dark roots. She’s definitely a bottle blond. Not that I’m actively searching for flaws or anything like that.

  “That chick is way overdressed for Bella Pizza,” whispers Avery, always the fashion critic.

  “Hey, Paige. How’s KU?” Travis stretches his arm along the back of the booth. He isn’t quite touching me, but the action has definite implications.

  She smiles. “Too fun. I need to stop partying or I won’t make it out of my first semester alive. You should visit me once in a while.”

  When Travis doesn’t jump at the offer, she runs her tongue over her very red lips, and speaks again. “I’m having people over at my dad’s tomorrow. Stop by, we’ll catch up.” Her eyes dart toward Avery and me. “Is this your night to babysit?”

  My sister kicks me under the table and our eyes meet, both of us biting back laughter. Even though we’re three years apart in age, Avery and I possess the uncanny, twin-like ability to read each other’s minds.

  Travis lowers his arm from the top of the booth until he’s touching my shoulder. “Do you know Becca Thornton?”

  Paige’s eyes widen when she recognizes my last name. “The daughter of those primo scientists?”

  I shift closer to Travis. “Yes. And this is my sister, Avery.”

  “But Travis isn’t babysitting us,” Avery chimes in. “Becca and I can take care of ourselves.”

  “Of course you can. Girl power, right?” Paige stumbles over her words as she gives me a closer look. “You play sports, right?” The way she says it doesn’t make me think it’s a compliment.

  I nod. “Soccer and basketball.”

  “Thought so. I watched a couple of your parents’ documentaries in bio class. Those monkeys really are practically human, aren’t they?”

  “That’s what they say,” I reply evenly.

  Paige takes a step back and waves to a trio of girls at the next table. “Have fun tonight, Trav. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Information gathering mission accomplished, Paige struts away.

  Avery’s eyes dance with mischief. “That was awkward. Is she an ex, Travis?”

  “We went out a few times—nothing serious,” Travis says, uncurling his fist.

  “Are you going to take Becca to the party?” My sister refuses to back down.

  “Avery —” I start to protest.

  Travis takes a long swig of his drink. “If Becca wants to go.”

  Avery slurps down the rest of her soda. “Anyone need a refill?”

  She scoots out of the booth, over to the soda machine.

  With my sister occupied, Travis presses his lips into my hair and smiles at me in a way that makes me wish I’d sent the little brat to the Villanueva’s to spend the night with Corinne. Shaking this thought from my brain, I make the most of our time alone by filling Travis in on our shopping trip while Avery gawks at the middle school boys playing video games. She eventually returns to the table when the pizza arrives and chatters nonstop as she downs three slices, repeatedly showcasing a mouth full of food until I call her out on her lack of table manners. After we demolish the large pie, my sister begs Travis to take us out for dessert.

  “If you want Becca to like you, buy her ice cream. She eats big bowls of mint chocolate chip, even in January when it freezes my tongue.”

  “Becca’s in charge tonight,” Travis says, mildly. “Whatever she wants.”

  “Avery and I can pay for dessert, since she brought it up,” I say, finally getting a word in.

  Travis frowns. “No way. I asked you out, I pay.”

  “You asked us out for pizza. But we can eat ice cream at home. And leftover pumpkin pie. You’re a starving college student.”

  “He doesn’t look underfed,” Avery observes. “Do you cook your own food at school?”

  “No way. I got a part-time job to cover a meal plan.” Travis grabs my hand as he stands, ready to go.

  Avery tags along as we exit the pizzeria. “A job? Doing what?”

  Travis clicks his remote to unlock the truck. “I work as an EMT on campus. I’m thinking about emergency medicine, so I took a CPR certification class and got hired.”

  “Emergency medicine—isn’t that highly stressful?” I ask.

  “Sometimes. But you’re saving lives every day. Maybe it’s not as prestigious as neurosurgery, but—”

  “Who cares?” I step up, into the truck. “You’re doing something you love and helping people too. I wish I could be a doctor.”

  “Yeah, Becca faints at the sight of blood,” Avery adds, jumping in beside me.

  “You could be a radiologist. Or a pathologist. Review lab tests and assist with diagnosis,” Travis says.

  “Wow, could this conversation be more boring?” Avery reaches over and flips on the radio. “Step on it, Travis! My shows are on tonight.”

  ***

  At home, Avery takes charge of dessert. She removes our entire ice cream inventory from the freezer and lines up the cartons on the counter. Gran likes old-fashioned butter pecan, Avery prefers party cake flavors with sprinkles mixed in, and I crave anything with chocolate.

  Positioning herself between me and Travis, she proceeds to dump gummy bears and M&Ms on top of her sundae before digging in with an extra-large spoon. By this point in the evening, I’m conjuring up ways to enforce an early bedtime, but before I seize the opportunity, she announces it’s time to watch TV.

  The three of us relocate to the game room, where Avery plops on the leather sofa between me and my date. I nearly bite through my lip, straining to hold back my irritation.

  After two episodes of some high school drama, she asks me to walk her upstairs.

  “I wanted you to say good night to me, but not in front of Travis.” She gives me a hug before reaching for her phone. “Tell him I had fun tonight.”

  I switch her light on and off. “Sleep tight, okay? Not too much texting.”

  She glances away from her screen and waves. “I j
ust need to message Corinne. She’s waiting.”

  Back in the family room, Travis waits. Only a dim light flickers from the television.

  I lower myself on the couch and draw my knees up to my chest. “So, tonight was interesting. I learned some new things about you.”

  His eyes move from the screen to me. “Pizza dates can be educational when half of my graduating class shows up.”

  I take a deep breath. “Right. About that … I realized you weren’t hanging around in the carriage house the last eighteen years.”

  He laughs. “I was slowly wasting away until you noticed me.”

  “Or not. Paige was happy to see you.”

  When he wraps his fingers around my wrist, my pulse takes off, shattering world records.

  “What’s wrong?” Travis must know that I tend to build mountains out of small bumps in the road.

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “I just … feel like I saw a different side of you tonight.”

  He picks up a lock of my hair and twists it back and forth. “Do you want to back out of our deal?”

  I shake my head. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just strange, how we lived so close to each other all these years and I thought I knew you so well.” My hands are everywhere, nervously flying in different directions. I’m losing my cool around Travis and it’s killing me.

  His eyebrows pull together. “Becca, you know me better than anyone.”

  “But I don’t know everything about you. Do you feel the same way?”

  “No.”

  “Really? You haven’t learned anything new about me lately?

  He considers my question. “I learned that kissing you in real life is better than I thought it would be.”

  My lips curve into a smile. “Nothing else?”

  “You’re a good sister. No, I already knew that. You always protected Avery.”

  “Anything non-family related?”

  “Your friends are cool. Connor’s new, isn’t he? I don’t remember him.”

  “Melinda found him after he ran away from a bad situation. Now he lives with her and her family. It’s a weird, long story. But, yeah, he seems nice.” I breathe in deeply and relax against Travis, grateful to have shifted topics. I don’t do awkward, but I’m pretty skilled at avoidance. “Anyway, Avery said to tell you she had fun tonight. I think you were the first boy to bring her flowers.”

  He rests his hand on my hip and moves me closer. “The flowers were for our second date.”

  “Is that a Brennen rule? Flowers for the second date?”

  “Flowers for our second date,” he corrects me. “Avery was a part of it, so she got them too.”

  “Do you have a rule for the third date?”

  “Will there be a third?” he shoots back.

  “Bringing a girl flowers on the second date typically helps you get a third.”

  “Let’s finish tonight first. Do you want to watch a movie?”

  I laugh. “About as much as I wanted to watch the movie last night.”

  Travis reaches for the remote and clicks off the TV.

  Chapter Nine

  I wake to the chime of a text message.

  Travis: Paige’s house tonight?

  I count to ten and tap out a reply.

  Becca: YES.

  His response pings right back.

  Travis: Dinner first?

  I count to twenty.

  Becca: Sure.

  Before I set my phone on the nightstand, it pings again.

  Travis: I’ll pick you up at seven.

  So Travis. Straight to the point.

  In the kitchen, a geyser of steam bursts from the tea kettle, ignored by Gran as she listens to Avery’s recap of the first half of our night with Travis. No one enquires about the second half of the evening.

  “Are you going to the party, Becca?” Avery asks between slurps of cereal.

  “Travis asked me out to dinner first. Is that okay, Gran?”

  “Hmm. I take it you aren’t going to be available much when Travis is home from school.”

  “Will you be all mopey when he leaves again?” Avery sinks her chin into her hands.

  “Of course she won’t. No moping allowed in this house. Christmas is coming,” Gran says.

  Christmas means winter break. Travis will be home for almost a month. I can find a way to survive three more weeks without him, right? Three more weeks of staring at the sky and thinking about how it matches the color of his eyes. Three more weeks of reliving our kisses in my dreams.

  “Since you’re up early, let’s start the holiday decorating,” Grans suggests.

  “Ugh, all those ornaments? The boxes are soooo heavy,” Avery complains. “And the tree is a monster.”

  “Just the small artificial tree, for now,” Gran says. “We’ll get a real one closer to the holiday.”

  Still, even the small tree is huge, compared to what I’ve seen normal, non-holiday obsessed families put up in their homes. And the thought of Gran taking it upon herself to lug heavy boxes of ornaments up from the basement scares me. I text Travis.

  Becca: Setting up the xmas tree. Help?

  My phone’s still in my hand when a reply buzzes in. Damn, he’s fast.

  Travis: On my way, boss.

  Not a minute later, we hear a knock.

  “Who…” Gran starts to ask, but I jump up before she finishes the question.

  “You called?” Travis leans against the door frame, wearing the smile of a lean, hungry fox.

  “About the Christmas tree,” I sputter, trying to push all thoughts of the second half of last night’s date from my mind. “I need help. Carrying it up. From the basement. Did I bother you?” I glance over my shoulder as we stomp down the dark stairs.

  “It’s my job to help out.”

  “Actually, it’s your dad’s job. And he’s off today.” I stop short at the bottom of the steps. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of … us.”

  “Becca, if we weren’t together, wouldn’t I still be the person you call for help?”

  “When your Dad’s not available, yes. Because you’re closest.”

  Back up a second. Did he just confirm that we’re together?

  “He’s out right now, so I’m your fill-in helper. And I’m willing to work overtime, if only because I get to see you in those hot sweatpants.” He trains his eyes on the hole just above my knee and smirks.

  “Oh. Now that we’re—um, you know—do you want me to dress up for you?” I decide to hold off on defining our relationship until a later date when my eyes are not glued to his faded jeans, which I have to admit, fit really well.

  He totally catches me staring. “I didn’t say that.”

  I force my eyeballs upward. “It’s better this way. We’ll both be full of dust and fake pine needles in a few minutes.” To refocus my attention on anything but Travis and his denim, I disassemble a tower of boxes, on the lookout for holiday decorations. In the corner of our musty-smelling storage area, I locate the artificial tree under an old blanket, partially deconstructed, with two fallen branches lying on the cement floor. When I reach for the light switch, Travis pounces, flattening me against the wall.

  “What are you doing?” Every muscle of his body molds against mine. My lungs can’t take in air. Before I steady myself, his lips crash into mine.

  “This isn’t … why … I called,” I say, dragging my mouth from his. My legs start to buckle and I latch on to his shoulder for support. “We need to stop.”

  A dare gleams in his eyes. “Why? Afraid of someone catching us?”

  “Aren’t you? Your father wanders around the basement all the time. He could be storing dead bodies down here and Gran would never know.”

  Travis tugs on one of my loose curls. “But my father could wake up those dead bodies with his giant footsteps. Your sister, on the other hand, is as light-footed as a cat.” His mention of Avery is enough to make me squirm. To end my torture, Travis hits the switch, flooding the room with the li
ght of a million flash bulb cameras.

  He picks up the bottom half of the metal tree trunk and swings it over his shoulder like it’s a matchstick. “I’ll do the heavy lifting. Tell me where to go.”

  “Wow, Travis, you’re strong,” Avery remarks when we meet her and Gran in the living room.

  “Lugging around medical equipment and drunk college students builds muscles,” he says. “Where do you want this, Mrs. Davis?”

  Travis and I spend an hour piecing together the artificial branches, connecting plugs, and untangling wires. Once the entire formation is upright and fully lit, Gran dismisses him back to the carriage house.

  “Later, Becca,” he says, smiling at me as he walks out. A glass ornament drops from my hands and cracks in two.

  “You and Travis were in the basement for a long time,” Gran says, after he’s gone. “Did you lose your way or was there some other complication?”

  From behind the tree, Avery chokes back laughter.

  I pick up the pieces of the shattered glass Santa. “Is everything I do with Travis now under suspicion?”

  Gran’s brow furrows. “Should it be?”

  “No, Gran. Travis is very … respectful.”

  “I’ve known him since he was a baby. For now, I’ll trust both of you, until you give me a reason not to.” She clasps her hands together before continuing. “To be perfectly honest, I’d prefer not to deal with this. I’d much rather be a fun grandmother, not the authority figure.”

  Avery pokes her face out from between two branches. “Don’t worry, Gran. You’re the funnest grannie on the planet!” She hops up the ladder to wind garland around the higher boughs.

  “And, thankfully, you’re both good girls. With your parents away so much … ” She sighs. “I hope to do right by you.”

  “You always have, Gran,” I say. I love her like a grandmother and a mother, too. In my eyes, she’s always been more of a real parent than Mom and Dad. Gran is the one adult in my life who follows through on her promises.

  ***