None Other Than You Read online

  I turn my attention on Jake. "So you'll tell Milovich to not ask her?" He nods and I look back to Ryan. "Ta-da. There you go. Now there's no one else to ask her but you. Her future husband." I see him blush slightly and shove his hands in his pockets.

  I chuckle and bring my hand to my mouth to hide the fact. Teigan smiles next to me and I move a little farther away from him. He scoots closer to me and his arm touches mine. I feel a bit of a shock run up my spine and I jump off the fence away from him. Glancing at him smiling I feel the shiver again and I turn away, looking at Jake and Ryan who've sprung up a conversation.

  "I'm goin' back home." I say to Ryan and walk past him and Jake to walk across the street. Once back inside mom calls me into the den. I slip off my shoes and then walk into the room to find her on the computer.

  "Let me see it." She says simply. Turning the spinning chair around to see me.

  "See what?" I ask her, my face blank. I know exactly what she wants to see though.

  "You know your sister can't keep a secret." She says, smiling to one side like Sarah and I both do when we have a secret. Sighing, I lift up my shirt so she can see the bellybutton ring. She shakes her head and then looks up at me. "Cute. Keep it clean and I'll look at it next week to make sure it's not getting infected or anything." She turns around in the chair and I drop my shirt, speechless.

  "You're not… mad?" I stutter.

  "Nope. You're sister is predictable like that. I give her money and she'll do something reckless."

  "So you expected it." I say.

  "Sort of." She turns around halfway and smiles at me. "Go do your homework firearm." She says with a snicker.

  "Ouch mom. Ouch."

  Chapter Seven: Curiosity Killed the Cat

  "What can I get for you this morning sir?" I ask the man in front of the counter. He lists off four different coffees as I press their numbers on the screen. Three other people behind the counter, Bethany, John, and Mason, work to get everyone's orders as they move along the line. Pete and I are working the registers while everyone else fills out the orders. It's the only way we get through the mornings without mobs of people yelling at us that they have things to do.

  The café is filled with the sound of people bustling about and talking to each other. Lightly, underneath the everyday mutter, I can hear the sound of the local radio station playing a song I like. Tapping my foot to the beat I help the next few customers.

  I always see quite a few regulars in here from school, after all, who doesn't need coffee on a Monday morning? Toby Weaver and his girlfriend from West High are at a table near the door chatting away about something that's making her laugh. Allison Hawley is in line with Patrick Martell, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist as they coo at each other. They're quite the lovey-dovey couple. Jessa, as usual is in line with them, most likely to pay for their orders and carry them out to Patrick's Porsche.

  Jessa gets up to my register and as I had guessed she orders and pays for their drinks. She avoids eye contact with me when I ask how she is and doesn't answer. Patrick's face gives off a slight grimace as he sees her pay for the coffees. I know for a fact through Ryan that he doesn't like the way Allison uses her, but he loves his girl and wouldn't dare contradict her.

  Nice for Allison. Bad for Jessa.

  Another thing about Allison is that she pretends to be friends with me. Patrick is one of my brother's good friends so he's at the house pretty often. Which means Allison is too. And guess who she's usually stuck talking with?

  You guessed it, me.

  So she makes it a point to be publicly nice to me. Behind my back I know she calls me some kind of horrible person who does voodoo or something.

  The group walks away, but not without a fake friendly wave from Allison and a nod and a smile from Patrick. I smile back for a moment, silently thankful that not everyone at Oakridge thinks I'm a crazy outcast.

  Pete walks up behind me and places his hand on my shoulder. I turn my head to look at him.

  "You should probably leave for school." I smile, thinking of how nice he is to me all the time. Pete's always had a friendly attitude. He's a tall guy with dark brown hair cut short. His eyes are a calming light gray-blue color. They've always reminded me of a winter sky or the color of the ocean. The hand on my shoulder is big and calloused from his work, and he's always wearing a big grin. The other distinguishing feature Pete has is his crooked nose. It's been broken six times, each one with an elaborate story that changes each time he tells it. He's got an imagination, Pete, and that's one of the reasons why he's such a good friend of the family.

  That and all six times his nose has been broken my mom's been the one to fix him up.

  "I'll see you after practice then." I say, leaving the register to him and saying my goodbyes to my fellow workers. Bethany gives me a huge hug and a coffee of my own to go. She's like another big sister to me. All three of my coworkers are in college so they work the morning shifts for about another two hours.

  Bethany Hutchinson is a freshman, newly graduated last spring from Oakridge High. She's intensity in a five feet nine package of a slim, toned, and athletic nineteen year old. She can get any secret out of you with her stare and she can intimidate just about anyone with her muscles. It's not like she's scary muscled, but toned like a woman athlete should be. Beth isn't as scary as I seem to be making her however. Most of the time she's the sweetest person you'll ever meet. You know those people who're always nice and happy no matter how bad of a day they're having? She's one of those people. She sees the glass as all the way full all the time, 'it doesn't have to be filled with just water' she says.

  Then you have my wonderful friend, John Curb. John isn't your normal boy. He's tall, dark, and handsome. Six foot one with perfectly sculpted abs and gorgeous brown locks that I love to run my hands through, naturally tan skin and gorgeous gray-blue eyes that go from dark to light depending on his mood. Watch me drool…. Now. Sadly, John is not only twenty-four (illegal for seventeen year old me) but he's taken. By a particular boy named Aaron Kravitz. He's just about as cute but with blonde hair and dark blue eyes. John is obsessed with his 'boy toy' as he likes to call him, and any of Bethany's guys as well. He hasn't had a chance to call anybody my 'boy toy' yet, but I know he's hoping. He points out guys like crazy while we're working. In other words, he drives me up the wall half the time. I can't help but love him though he's too cute.

  The last, but of course never the least of my coworkers, is Mason James Eatchell. Mason is one of my most favorite people to work with because he's so nice to everyone all the time.

  Please tell me at least someone caught the sarcasm in there? Mason is probably one of the least agreeable people on this earth. He's five feet eleven and a mass of muscle with a full head of brown hair cut short and spike atop his chiseled face. He's got those puppy dog brown eyes but he never uses them to their full potential, as he glares more than he begs with his eyes. Mason is also moody twenty four seven which means that, because he works so many shifts at Pete's, I have to deal with him almost every time I come in to work. Pete usually had to put us at different ends of the café because we bicker so much when we're put in too close a proximity to one another. He has his views and I have mine and neither of us is willing to change for the other. He's extremely smart however, but hardly social at all. The only way we have a conversation is if we're fighting over something.

  Like why he's never had a girlfriend when he's so good-looking. This particular conversation was brought up this morning around six forty-five and was battled upon for the next twenty minutes until our shouts started scaring away customers and Pete had to referee.

  Even now as I leave I see Mason glaring at me. "See ya later!" I say as I rush out the door past the long line of customers.

  Busy Monday mornings.

  The school is only a block away so I don't have to worry about taking a bus or anything. Ryan drops me off at work on the days he has morning practice so I can get in some extra hours (and
money) and then all I have to do is walk to school.

  It's a pretty brisk morning. I pull my jacket tighter around me as I walk down the street, the wind whipping my hair around my face. Taking yet another glance at the sky, I make a silent wish for snow once again. Snow makes this whole season what it is, and if I don't see any of it soon I'm going to get mad at the sky.

  Yes I'm going to get mad at the sky.

  I can dream.

  In fact I can do anything I want to.

  Except math. Math is the one thing that is impossible for me to do.

  Math.

  Crap!

  I hate it when I suddenly remember homework I forgot to do. You'd think after I barricade myself in my room for three hours on Sunday evening I'd remember to do all of my homework, not just most of it. I start running toward the school so that I can have at least a few minutes to do my homework before the late bell rings.

  Curse math and Paxton for being first block.

  Inside the school I take residence in my usual spot in the common sitting area and whip out my math book and notebook. I did almost all of the problems, but I left the four hardest ones because I was going to get Pete's help on them this morning.

  At least that's what I had planned.

  "Doing your homework again right before class, Knight?" Without taking my eyes off my paper I know Teigan has snuck up behind me and is looking over my shoulder. I can almost feel his warm breath on my neck. The feeling sends chills down my spine.

  "Bug off, Teigan." I say, flipping through pages and trying to find something that will help me.

  "Face it, you need my help."

  I stop and look up at his smirking face. "First of all, I'd never admit to that. Second of all, why do you care?"

  "Because I know you're obsessive when it comes to grades and if you don't get help you're going to wreck that beautiful 4.0 you've kept up for the past three years."

  "You've talked to Ryan." I growl.

  "Maybe, maybe not." He starts walking away and calls back, "The offer still stands!"

  The bell rings, loud and foreboding as it signals the warning bell. I have four minutes until class starts. It takes me that long just to get to Paxton's class so I grab my books and bag and dash towards the stairs. I practically bolt towards class so that I can get a seat near the front, as Paxton tends to pick on the people in the back but I barely make it before the bell rings again. Paxton glares at me and nods his head for me to sit down in the only empty seat left; next to Anthony Thompson five rows back.

  Isn't my day going well?

  Paxton calls on me during class about sixty times. I'm exaggerating, but he did pick on me a lot. I knew most of the answers except for the four hardest ones. He made one of the juniors in the class cry because she sat in the back too.

  Add on the overflow of attention from Anthony's seat and you have my math class; agonizing torture and pain. Math Monday's are like that. Any Monday that has math on it is bound to be a horrible day. You'd think I'd realize to prep for this after three years prior, but of course, I'm not that smart.

  Just because I have a 4.0 GPA doesn't mean I'm smart in everything.

  And it won't last long if I don't get some kind of help on my math this year. I hate having to say this, even in my mind, but Teigan's right.

  I need some serious help.

  * * *

  "All class?" I groan, my head buried in my arms as I lay both on my desk. Emma pats my back sympathetically. We're in homeroom right before lunch. If anything can improve my spirits it's a chicken sandwich and something to drink. And maybe a cookie.

  "Yeah. Paxton didn't leave me alone long enough to even try and figure out the problem before asking me the answer. Thompson didn't help any either." I flash two 'love notes' he sent my way during the period.

  "Yikes." She whispers.

  "Less than three weeks ago our neighboring school, West Lake High, was engulfed in flames of an unknown cause." The news announcements silence the entire room as we all stare at the T.V. Footage of the flames licking the sides of the building of West Lake aren't news. They've been on every news station for the past three weeks non-stop. A side of the building collapses in, emitting a puff of smoke from the roof, and a window explodes, shards flying everywhere. The newscaster, Allison Hawley in all her glory, continues, "The police have confirmed that the fire at the nearby West Lake High School was caused by a gas leak in the basement of the building that was left unnoticed for too long."

  I hear a quick laugh from behind me. Turning around I find Teigan covering his mouth with his hand, chuckling.

  "Do you know something we don't Teigan?" I ask. Did I mention that apart from the five classes he has with me, Darren Teigan is also in my homeroom?

  Well know you know.

  He flashes me his signature grin, cocked to one side, and his blue eyes flash. "I do know something, Ace."

  "Stop calling me that."

  "Why?"

  "Because it's annoying." I huff.

  He simply shrugs. "If you'll let me call you Ace, I'll let you know what I know." He pauses for effect. "You're curiosity's bound to get the better of you."

  "Curiosity killed the cat. I'd rather stay alive."

  He leans in dangerously close and whispers in a husky tone, "But satisfaction brought it back."

  He leans back and I glance at Emma to find her completely oblivious to the situation. Her eyes are fixed on the T.V. my brother is now on. Ryan is on the Monday, Wednesday, and Friday news crew. Turning back to Teigan, I glare.

  "I think I'll pass."

  "Alright, but I never agreed to stop calling you Ace if you disagreed, Ace." He grins again and turns to Tyler Milovich and strikes up a conversation.

  I try to ignore him, but his voice keeps taking over the concentration of my mind. I'm trying to think about practice tonight and all the homework I have to balance on top of that along with practice tomorrow and Wednesday. Thursday is the actual game so there isn't practice, and Friday we have off.

  Saturday is the dance.

  And Ryan still hasn't asked Emma.

  I turn to her again to find her smiling and watching Ryan tell the school about the options for lunch and nudge her shoulder. "You're drooling."

  Blushing, she pushes my shoulder back. "Shut up." She giggles. The bell rings and we scurry out of homeroom, our teacher reminding us about tickets for the dance. Emma's eyes fall to the floor and she starts walking slower. I loop her arm in mine and quicken her pace.

  "It's chicken sandwiches today! C'mon Em." I give her a puppy-dog face.

  She shakes her head. "Only you could get that excited over food." I shrug. "Ryan is planning on asking me right? Cause if he's not then I've had a few offers—"

  "He's asking Em. I know he has something in mind but he hasn't told me anything yet." That was a lie. I knew exactly what he was going to do.

  If you're expecting me to say anything, even in my head right now, you're wrong. Emma has some kind of sixth sense. If I even think about it she'll know I know something and then she'll get me to tell what I know and I don't want to spoil the surprise Ryan's got for her.

  I'll say this though: she'll be completely smitten.

  "To the lunch line!" I say, dragging Emma by her arm with my to the lunch line. It's already spilling out of the servery and it'll take probably ten minutes to get through. But the spicy chicken sandwiches, I swear I could start drooling any second now. They're so delicious. Just add a little ranch or maybe ketchup mixed with mayonnaise. Fry sauce you know? And then of course you have to get fries with the sandwich; you can't just have it alone—

  "Earth to Duke!" I snap out of my chicken-sandwich-induced trance to find Ryan waving his hand in front of my face.

  "What?"

  "I've been trying to get your attention for the past three minutes." He says, grabbing a tray for himself, Emma, and me.

  "It's chicken sandwich day. You said it on the news yourself." Emma mentions.

  "Oh. Right
. I forgot about your fetish."

  "I have a fetish with food, not just chicken sandwiches. Though they are extremely—"

  "Duke." Ryan warns.

  I sigh. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

  He leans in and whispers while Emma gets her drink. "I've got it all set up. It's ready for Wednesday."

  "And that couldn't wait 'til later." I grin.

  He shrugs his shoulder and grabs a drink. I do the same. "What? I'm all giddy."

  I laugh as we move up in the line and, further up, Teigan's eyes catch mine. I stop, mid-laugh and tear my eyes away from him. Why was he looking at me?

  "You alright Duke?"

  "Yeah Ryan, I'm fine. Hey, how are you in math?"

  "Absolutely awful." Ryan says, wincing.

  "Any friends who're good at it?"

  He nods. "Yeah actually. Teigan's a whiz at it. He's in the AP Calc class."

  I can't get a break can I?

  * * *

  Practice is over and I'm completely exhausted. I haul my bag into the gym to find the boys basketball team still in practice.

  "That's weird. They're supposed to be over the same time we are." Emma says next to me. She's catching a ride home with Ryan and I.

  I check my watch. "Yeah, they should be out by now."

  "Maybe we could ask the coach?" I shrug and we walk towards Coach Daniels. I've always liked him as a coach for my brother's team. He's supportive but at the same time, he works these boys to hell and back. But it makes them good. Even though we haven't won state in the past twenty years, with the team we have this year we're almost there.

  "Coach!" He turns his head and smiles, Emma and I familiar faces to him.

  "Hello girls. Sorry to tell you this but you might want to find another ride home."

  "Why?" I ask.

  "The team was a little slacked today, not to mention they paid no attention to what I had to say, so practice is going to be running until about eight tonight."

  My jaw almost dropped. That's two hours more than usual. They practice from 3:15 until six usually.