Addison Blakely: Confessions of A PK (2 page)

And trust me, I have a lot of them.

Most people would be stunned to know I have the thoughts I do. That sometimes I question God. I question myself. That I long to do one wild, reckless, daring move just for the shock factor of it all. I know my mom didn’t mean to die and that my father didn’t mean to turn overprotective and old-fashioned in her absence. It was how he survived, so I played along. I’d already lost my mom…. I couldn’t lose my father, too.

Even if it does seem like actually pleasing him is a bar set higher than the one at the summer Olympics.

I plucked a card from the box and slapped it on the counter. Hamburger steaks and gravy. That would make him happy for tonight, if nothing else. I finished the rest of my pop and carefully buried the can in the wastebasket, under yesterday’s discarded mail. I turned toward the fridge then hesitated, my fingers locked around the handle as I stared through the window. Wes was still outside, leaning against the light post, but Poodle Girl was nowhere to be seen. My stomach morphed into a butterfly farm.

He was waiting for me.

I closed my eyes, imagining the different scenarios—what would happen if I went outside. What would happen if I didn’t. A shiver raced up my spine, and my eyes opened. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

Would I?

BANG
.

The front door slammed. Dad was home early.

And once again, the biggest decisions in my life were made for me.

H
e’s so into you, Addison.”
Claire Pierson swabbed a french fry through a puddle of ketchup and gestured over my shoulder. “Everyone knows it.”

“And I don’t care.” I sipped from a Coke, taking way too much joy in the fact that I planned on having three that day. The cafeteria food at Crooked Hollow High was too hard to stomach without carbonated assistance.

Can you tell I’ve become a master at justification?

Claire wouldn’t give up. “Austin is hot. A senior. Captain of the varsity football team. Muscles from here to there. What else could you want?”

Hmm, let’s see. Brains. A sense of humor. General human decency
. I shrugged. “He’s not my type.” Besides, who wanted to date someone who bragged about sleeping with the majority of the cheerleading squad last year? I could just see Austin checking names off a list he kept under his pillow. No thanks. Besides, I was still a little queasy at having just assisted in dissecting a frog. Attending biology before lunch should be illegal, especially when it involved animal intestines. My food rolled in my stomach. I still couldn’t believe Mr. Black had made us dive into dissection in the second week of school.

“Well, Austin sure could be my type.” Claire leaned back in her chair, tucking her blond hair behind one ear, eyes narrowing on her prey some fifteen yards ahead. She said this like she’d just decided, but something in her gaze made me think he’d been in her sights for much longer.

“Then go for it.” I stabbed my fork into my pile of cold macaroni noodles and grimaced as it stuck fast. I dropped my fork on my tray. Forget it. I couldn’t do it, not when the froggy memories lingered.

“I would, but he doesn’t seem interested yet.” Claire chewed on her lower lip, oblivious to my upset stomach. “I need to get his attention. Hey, we could double-date then switch at the end of the night.” She smirked. “You know I wouldn’t need long to convince him.”

“Did you really just suggest that?” I arched one eyebrow, a favorite trick I saved for special occasions. If you do it just right, and in the perfect moment, you can actually quiet a room.

“You’re right.” Claire rolled her eyes. “You, Ms. Prude, date? What was I thinking?” She shoved her tray away from her, her glossy pink fingernails catching the fluorescent lights in the cafeteria. Sometimes I think blood red would be a better color for her.

I counted to five before I answered—rarely do I get to ten with Claire anymore. “I’m not a prude; I’m just not easy. There’s a difference.” I bit my tongue before something sarcastic could follow that statement about her own current sense of morals. “Besides, you know my dad. He gets full approval of dates, and well—two sentences into a conversation with Austin would nix that one.” That is assuming Austin had two full sentences in his vocabulary. I watched as a fellow football player tossed a fry into Austin’s mouth from across the table and cheered as if they’d just won the state championship.

Man, I couldn’t wait for college.

“Better you than me. Seriously, Addison, I don’t see how you put up with all those rules.” Claire stood and shouldered her purse. “I’m going in.” She flounced over to the jocks’ table, where Austin held court with his french-fry jesters, leaving me to once again ponder why I considered Claire my best—and most days, only—friend. People might not be able to help their natural good looks or spoiled backgrounds, but they were still responsible for their attitude—and lately Claire’s seemed to be getting more and more negative. But we’d made it through grade school together, so it seemed a waste to part ways now. At least I could count on Claire to always share exactly what she was thinking.

Even if I’d rather not hear it.

I played with the tab on my pop can. So what if Claire thought my dad was strict? Okay, so I thought that, too. But he did it out of love—and probably from sheer naivete of how to raise a teenager alone. That wasn’t his fault any more than it was mine. Thankfully none of the guys around town had caught my eye anyway, so it wasn’t like we fought about it.

Yet.

At this point, I just hoped Dad would be so grateful of all the headaches I spared him over the years that when I finally found the right guy, he’d like him as much as I did.

A fleeting image of Wes filled my mind, and I rolled in my bottom lip.

And then again, maybe not.

My usual desk in my honors English class was taken. That irked me. This was only the second week of school, but hey, a routine is easily created in two weeks. I thrived on my habits. But I kept my mouth shut and took a seat near the back—directly in front of Austin. I cursed my misfortune and pretended toignore him. I’d heard rumors he’d gotten into the enriched class because the general was full and his uncle, Coach Thompson, pulled some strings. It sure wasn’t because of his academic aspirations.

I set my bag under my desk and retrieved my English book and spiral notebook.

“In honor of Shakespeare Week, we’ll be picking up
Romeo and Juliet
at act four, scene one. There’s no better way to start a school year, in my opinion.” Ms. Hawthorne, a pretty, middle-aged woman with a penchant for leather boots, stood at the podium near her desk. She was new to Crooked Hollow this year, but I could already tell she wasn’t going to be a typical teacher. How could she be when I coveted her footwear?

She smiled. “Who wants to read first?”

I sort of did, but wasn’t about to volunteer two days in a row. The redheaded girl beside me slipped her hand in the air, and I breathed a sigh of relief as she began to read.

I followed along, mouthing the words with Juliet, when Austin kicked the back of my chair. I paused, hoping it was a spasm. He kicked again, and my fingers tightened around my pen in disgust. Why didn’t he just pull my hair while he was at it? I ignored him. What exactly did Claire see in this loser? He kicked a third time.

I spun around, my jeans sliding on the desk chair and providing extra momentum. “What?” I tried not to let how proud I was of my hiss show on my face. Even Claire would have approved of that one. She’s always harping on me to be more aggressive.

He leaned in with a loud whisper. “What page are we on?”

“Two sixty-eight.”

“What book?”

I rolled my eyes. “Get a clue.”

“Get a miniskirt.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Dude, lay off.” The guy to my right chimed in, his tone low and borderline threatening. I blinked at my sudden rescuer. No white horse or shining armor to give away his hero status. Just sandy-blond hair that draped a little long near his eyes—in a cute sort of way, not the please-get-a-haircut kind of way. He seemed vaguely familiar, like maybe we’d had a class together last year.

Before Wes came into the picture and muddled my memory.

Austin leaned back in his chair, but I could tell by the challenge in his eyes that he wasn’t done. Oh well, I could handle that later. I offered a small smile to my defender. “Thanks.”

“He’s a jerk.” The guy tossed his hair out of his eyes, and the gesture drew my attention to his startling blue gaze. “I’ve wanted to tell him off for days.”

“What took you so long?” I joked.

Ms. Hawthorne cleared her throat from the front of the class, and immediately my cheeks flushed. “Sorry,” I mouthed to her. She nodded with a slight smile before turning her gaze to her teacher’s guide. Hmmm. Yesterday when another pair of girls had been caught talking, she wrote them up. Oh well, count my blessings.

I looked back at my new friend, wondering if I should risk Teacher Wrath. He grinned, and I darted a cautious glance up front. “I’m Addison.”

“Luke.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “No relation to Darth Vader.”

I snorted back a laugh.

“We had a class together first semester last year. Geometry.”

That explained it. I nodded, though I truly didn’t remember him. Then again, I’d sat on the front row of all my classes and pretty much kept to myself.

The girl beside me finished reading the scene, and Ms. Hawthorne wrote some discussion questions on the board for us to answer. As I was halfway through copying down the third question, she called me to her desk.

Heart in my throat, I tried to keep my chin up as I made my way down the aisle, ignoring the muffled, sarcastic “ooohs” that followed in my wake.

She smiled, her teeth nice and straight without a smidgen of lipstick stain. “Hi, Addison. I hope I’m not embarrassing you.”

Oh, not at all. I love feeling like the entire class is staring at my butt. I forced my lips upward. “No problem.”
Hurry up, hurry up
….

“I just wanted to ask if you’d mind staying after class for a minute.” She was talking softly, but not softly enough. The front row behind me buzzed with rumors. I nodded, even though my chest tightened. What could I have done, besides talk to Luke? Surely this wasn’t about that. But I had to know. I’d never gotten detention before, and trust me, I didn’t want to start now. “Listen, I’m really sorry for talking during the reading—”

“Oh, that’s no big deal.” Ms. Hawthorne waved one hand in the air, brushing off the idea as if she hadn’t just busted two other girls for the same offense yesterday. “Don’t worry. I just received some rave reports from your teachers last year and thought you might want to hear them. I’m very glad you’re in my class, Addison. I’m expecting big things from you.”

Oh goody, no pressure. I exhaled slowly, hoping my smile seemed less contrived than it felt. No reason to be afraid of pressure, right? It’s just that this year would not be a good time to let my grade-point average, not to mention my reputation, slip. College was close—too close.

And yet at other times, much too far away.

“Thanks.” I hesitated, not wanting to sound rude. “Um, is that all?” Not that it wasn’t enough. My stomach cramped.

Ms. Hawthorne nodded, shuffling some papers on her desk—probably feeling the same awkward factor that threatened to choke me around the neck. “Yes, go ahead with the assignment, and I’ll see you after class.”

That last statement wasn’t whispered at all, and a few students smirked as I made a beeline back to my chair. Perfect. I sank into my seat, glad to be out of the line of fire, and spotted Luke from the corner of my eye. He was busy scribbling on a sheet of notebook paper, and I was reminded of the assignment I was now behind in completing.

Then he held up the paper with a grin.

Meet me at the water fountain on the second floor after class
.

I gestured toward Ms. Hawthorne, implying she wanted me to stay, and he nodded. “I know. After that,” he mouthed.

Slowly, I picked up my pen and hovered it above my notebook. Did I really want to get into this? Another chair kick from Austin relinquished my doubts and fired my nerve. I wrote my response and discreetly held it for Luke to see.

Okay
.

At least it would shut Claire up for a while.