Almost (8 page)

“What's the topic?” Michelle ramps in as she and her friends drop their backpacks and dig into lunches.

“Gray is suddenly convinced Jess Jordan is nice,” Corey says, shooting Michelle a look.

Michelle raises one dark eyebrow at me. “Really?”

“I hung out with her at the interview, and
yes
I think she's nice. So what?”

“Holy crap. The girl must have pummeled your head,” Corey adds.

I can tell he's about to burst out laughing. There will be no more moments of silence coming from him.

“Of course she was nice…
to you
. You could make any girl be nice.” Claire winks at me and licks her lips. It's all I can do not to cringe.

Michelle pulls a face, fluttering her eyes behind Claire's back. “Who got the job?”

“We both got it. Jess and I are going to share the internship. So…I guess…get used to her hanging around me. Maybe you'll see for yourselves. She's cool.”

“I thought they only ever took on one applicant?” Michelle frowns. She was one of the hopeful interviewees, but she got axed immediately.

“Yeah…I know.” I stop and scour my brain for something to say that isn't a lie. “They created two spots at the last minute because they liked us both so much. I get paid…so…I'm good with it. Cool…huh?” I shrug. My throat has gone completely dry, and I can't meet Michelle's eyes. She'll be able to tell something's off—if she hasn't already noticed.

“And he gets paid
so
much. It's not fair.” Corey laughs, smug with the amount I'd told him last night. “Too bad Gray's going to have to bow down and lick Jess Jordan's feet all summer. If they make that girl your boss on any level—you need to quit. No money is worth being bossed around by
that
.” He jerks his head toward Jess.

I can't answer. I only shake my head and curb the impulse I have to punch my best friend. Then I feel bad for that thought. I'm the one who's shifted the balance by acting out of the norm, not Corey. I'm the one about to pretend to fall for Jess Jordan. I can't even imagine what they're going to say when I launch that batch of
madness
in their faces.

Worse, I can't tell them the truth, and we've sworn to never lie to each other. Never. But I need to talk to Jess first. Find out what's okay with her. Figure out boundaries. It's only been one day, but leaving Michelle and Corey out of the loop is going to make this painful. Mostly because I'm a terrible actor.

“Poor girl. She's too loaded down,” Michelle adds, watching Jess stop to balance her mountain of stuff. “Should have made two trips, I think. Hey…is that our laboratory equipment?”

“It's hers. Claire knows all about it, don't you?” I say, flicking my first real glance at Claire. She grins and I try to smile back. But now that I think I'm an
actor
, I can't get rid of the idea that I'm trapped on some sort of stage.

Bombing my lines.

I smile wider at Claire and try again. “Isn't that right, Claire Bradford…who got a great grade in science this year.”

“What's the deal with you today, Gray? You seem off. Stay up too late studying?” Michelle crosses her arms.

Crap. At least she didn't point out that I just sounded like a freak robot.

I toss another cardboard smile at Claire. She looks startled because I'm finally paying her some real attention. Only her expression is sort of creeped-out.

Who can blame her? I'm creeped-out on myself. Whatever. I already have a girlfriend.

I choke back a laugh at that thought, and toss a glance at a very confused Corey. Michelle is still frowning at me, waiting for me to answer.

I'm waiting for someone to tell me my next lines, or at least scream “FRAUD!” But no one does. They only blink like they don't recognize me. Perfect.

I turn away and stare at Jess. The alien-magnet thing that happened to me yesterday ramps back in—along with one of those odd, painful heart-flips. She's slowed to a snail's pace, looking quite pitiful. And alone.

Suddenly, chasing after Jess Jordan, the girl I have no idea how to talk to, seems way better than hanging here and lying to my best friends.

“I—I'll go. I mean…you're right, Michelle.” The robot voice won't die.

“What?” says Michelle.

My eyes feel wild as they dart from face to face. “Someone should help her, huh?”

“Who? Dude!! Not you. You don't work for her—
yet
! Or do you?” Corey shouts, but I'm already bolting down the steps with a quick glance over my shoulder.

Their mouths have all dropped open. Wide. From the shocked, pissed-off look on Claire's face, I can tell it won't be long before her gossip train leaves the tracks.

Good.

I'm going to need all the help I can get.

Chapter Seven

Jess

I shift the massive pile of year-end locker junk so I can catch my pink hoodie before it slides off my shoulder. With the load rebalanced and the pressure off my aching arms, I contemplate for the zillionth time the insane deal I'd struck yesterday.

I can hardly believe any of it really happened. Since I haven't seen or heard from Gray Porter once today, I'm beginning to suspect he's changed his mind.

Mr. Foley's only requirement had been no slacking off or whining about me not having any funding later on. I'll prove myself to him. The job was my goal, never the cash. He'll see how happy I am. After we'd sealed the deal, Mr. Foley had taken me on a facility tour.

Gray didn't stick around because he'd already had the tour the day before.

It seems he's kept his mouth shut as promised—about me, about the deal and apparently, everything. So far I've not been the target of any unusual snide remarks in the hallways. Despite the finals schedule, everyone's been treating me the same—ignoring or avoiding me—as usual.

Not counting my family, of course.

They've been beaming at me like a toddler who'd finally made it to the big girl potty. Mom even chose to ignore my yelling at her like a jerk last night. This morning, when I didn't head off early, she fixed me poached eggs and apologized to
me
for invading
my
privacy!

That's about as twisted as me hiring a boyfriend for the summer.

I'm letting myself hope that Gray hasn't approached me because he doesn't want to start our
relationship
until school is over on Friday. Maybe he thinks it will be easier with fewer witnesses to his shame. I don't blame him. I'll just ignore him too, until the first day of work. Once we're forced to share the tiny intern office Mr. Foley gave us, things should move along just fine. Gray made it pretty clear he needed that money. To get it, he's got to show up, eventually.

Like I've conjured him with my thoughts, Gray Porter is suddenly standing in front of me.

Staring. Again.

Rather than slam into him with my mouth hanging open, I skid to a very ungraceful stop and hold tight to my science kit, my beakers and my Bunsen Burner. The books, papers and other less valuable things fall on his feet.

“Really?” I say, keeping my tone sarcastic to cover my racing heart. “Could you not have given me some warning?”

This time, I don't even try to save my hoodie from falling because I've made the ultimate mistake of looking at his face. Having no other choice, I try to keep myself steady and solidify my bearings. Obviously, I'm allergic to beautiful, green, sparkling things. Like his stupid eyes.

“It's called paying attention,” he says, copying my sarcasm. “I thought you'd see me. Good save on the breakables.” He laughs and drops down to scoop up my stuff.

I still haven't been able to move. How is it this one person can shake my control so easily? He smiles up at me and tosses me a wink. Of course my legs turn to rubber.

“Is this a habit of yours?” he asks.

“What?”

“Dropping stuff whenever you first see me? It's kind of cute. Flattering,” he adds, straightening while easily holding all of my stuff in his giant arms.

I've recovered enough to roll my eyes. “Maybe the habit is connected to your urge to rifle through my private things every time
you
see me?”

“It's possible. Your stuff is so randomly interesting.” He eyes my science kit and then scans through the pile of papers in his hands. “You got any other lists that need checking off? College tuition aside, I'm also trying to save for a new car.” He laughs.

When I don't answer, his expression changes to genuinely concerned. “Hey. Kidding. I make stupid jokes all the time. You'll get used to me, don't worry…or…I can stop making the jokes, I guess.”

“I…I'm not worried,” I lie, trying to keep my voice steady because I feel like I've entered another world. A world where Gray Porter is holding my things and telling
me
I'm going to get used to him. “We need to meet and flesh out the details of our…you know…whatever. I don't know what to call it. Our contract.”

“I was thinking the same thing. But can we call it our
epic summer romance
?
Contract
sounds so stuffy.” He smiles again.

Again, I don't smile back.

“Sorry.” His laugh sounds embarrassed. “It's quite possible I won't be able to stop the jokes.”

“Try. I'd prefer to keep this—us—all business.”

“I'm going to work on it. Promise. What should I do first? For the job, I mean. Besides no more joking.”

I let out a long sigh. “You'll need to break up with all your
hopefuls
, or whatever you call the girls sniffing about your ankles. And I mean today.” I jerk my head at the gaggle of girls waiting for Gray at the top of the steps that lead down to the parking lot.

He glances behind him and grins. “Wow. We have quite an audience. I'm holding at single status. Waiting only for you. And that's not a joke, by the way. So where should we meet later?”

It's all I can do not to cringe and run away. Instead, I swallow, realizing too late that I've hired the wrong guy. Pretend-dating Gray Porter is going to be like pretend-dating a rainbow. Everyone looks at him all the time. Which means, if I'm near him, everyone's looking at me. Not ideal. I feel like holes are being stared into my back right now. “I help with Coach Williams' after school music program from two-thirty to four-thirty. How about you meet me in his classroom at 3:45?”

He shakes his head. “Coach Williams' classroom? Hell, no. He's a complete ass. Pick another spot.”

“No. I only have a thirty minute break in there. Meaning, I can't leave to meet you anywhere else. Coach Williams heads to the weight room to check on the hockey team. I'm supposed to set up his room for the next group of kids. I'm mostly a babysitter to anyone who's dropped off early. After the music program's finished, Coach Williams meets the team over at the Golden sports complex and—”

“I know where he goes.” Gray's voice has turned cold. “I work afternoons and nights at the sports complex. I simply don't want to go near that guy's classroom.”

“Why? Did he cut you from the hockey team and now you're bitter?” I guess, relieved his bad attitude has nothing to do with me. As much as Coach Williams is a softie for the music kids, everyone knows he's rough on his team.

“Not
even
. I play competitive
inline
hockey. My ice time is spent teaching the little guys at the complex. I'd never play ice for that tool.”

“Okay.” I shrug. “I don't speak Hockey. I have no idea what you just said. You're going to have to get over your Coach Williams phobia and meet me in the music room. 3:45. Don't be late.”

“Listen to the boss-girl.” He sounds really agitated.

“Please,” I soften my tone. “I swear he won't be around. Meeting there will be private. No one will see us.” I point to the now even larger crowd of people watching us. “Your pride and your popularity will be safe.”

He shakes his head. “That's what you think? That I don't want anyone to see me with you? Why do you think I approached you with everyone watching? I did it on purpose.”

“Oh…well…next time can you not be so obvious? I'm truly uncomfortable, if you must know.”

He sighs. “We're about to be going out.
Us
going out has to start with
us
at least hanging in public and talking, or no one's going to buy it.”

I nod, hating that he's right. “I guess I didn't think through the day-to-day mechanics of having a fake boyfriend. Hmm. Public hanging out…seems so extreme. We only have this week of school left. Will anyone really care or notice?”

“It's up to you, but you need to decide. Don't think I'm giving up the money. We shook. Next week we both report to Geekstuff.com. How deeply you want to play the rest of our deal is up to you.”

His smile is shameless as he points to the audience at the top of the steps. “If you don't want my services, then it's only fair you cut me loose so I can make another girl or two happy this summer. Or three.” He shifts my papers into a neater pile.