Stirring Up Trouble Page 5

  “No.” He leaned in close to whisper, “I’m interested in you because you’re a really awesome kisser.”

  Works for me.

  “So, can we study?” he asked.

  I just nodded. Nothing much had happened in fifteen years of my life, but now, my life was like a runaway train. The only thing I was sure of was that I wanted more kissing.

  His eyes lit with a smile.

  There was no way I was going to concentrate on classes today.

  Jake rode the bus home with me. Since we had a captive audience, I was a nervous wreck about what people would think. Luckily, his friend Eli rode my bus, so Jake sat with him. It was bad enough to get off at the same stop. If everyone on the bus saw us sitting together, rumors would spread like wildfire. I’d never had any rumors spread about me, but I wanted to keep this thing with us quiet. It was pressure enough just seeing what came of it.

  We could walk from my house to his house, three neighborhoods away, but school wasn’t within walking distance. Mom was cuddling sick babies at the hospital anyway. I’d never been alone with a guy in my house before. It felt very dangerous and exhilarating.

  The faint smell of cleaning products told me the housekeeper had come today. Mom didn’t like to clean, but she said there was no point in decorating if you weren’t going to keep your house looking nice. And since she was all about decorating, our house had to look good.

  We dropped our backpacks on the kitchen counter, and I grabbed us each a Coke out of the fridge. “So what now?”

  He grinned. “We study, of course.”

  For a moment, I thought about how he’d probably done this a hundred times with Anya, but then I pushed it from my mind. This was my time with Jake, and no one was going to interfere.

  I handed him his Coke.

  He caught my hand as he took the can. “You’re so pretty, Zoe.” His gaze was intense.

  The way he said my name melted my insides. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, he didn’t intend to let me talk. He kissed me right there by the fridge.

  “You smell good too.”

  Taking both cokes, he led me into the couch in the living room. I followed feeling somewhat like a puppy dog. I sat down and pulled my phone out of my pocket setting it on the coffee table.

  “I’ve been thinking about those kisses,” he said, with a smirk.

  “Yeah. You told me that,” I said as he set the drinks on the coffee table along with his phone. Having all his attention focused on me was a heady sensation.

  “Well, I’m not sure they were really our best.”

  “You aren’t.” I had a feeling I’d like where this was going. I sat on the couch and waited for him.

  “No.” His eyes flashed with mischief. “So I think we should practice a little.”

  “And here I thought we were really going to study.” I could totally feel the air sizzling between us. I thought that couldn’t really happen. I was wrong.

  He plopped down on the couch beside me. Then he took his arms and wrapped them around me. All was right with the world.

  Kissing him rocked. Even though I kept thinking about how he’d done all this with Anya. I knew exactly what they’d done, when they’d done it, and how they’d done it. Kind of a weird situation.

  But the boy could kiss!

  He pulled away. “When does your mom get home?”

  “Huh? Oh,” I said as my mind cleared. “I don’t know.” I looked at the coffee table in front of us. “She knows you’re here studying.” Except something was missing. Books. “I should get out backpacks,” I said, jumping up.

  “Good idea,” he said, following my train of thought. “We should at least look like we could be studying.”

  He grabbed for his coke as I headed to the kitchen.

  I had texted my mother earlier. She knew we were going to be studying. I had told her that I was hoping Anya wouldn’t freak if she found out.

  When I walked back in, struggling to carry both our ridiculously heavy backpacks, Jake was standing by the couch, stuffing his phone into his pocket.

  “I think I should go,” he said.

  I stopped in my tracks. “What? Why?” The backpacks slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.

  Jake walked over and picked up his. “I don’t think this is a good idea. You know, with our parents dating each other.”

  Had I missed something? A minute ago it was fine.

  “We were just kind of playing around, but…” He tossed the backpack over his shoulder. “I don’t want things to get awkward.”

  Too late, I thought, as I searched for something to say.

  “I’m sorry.” He turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

  What the heck? I replayed the last few moments in my mind. Everything was fine. Then I went to the kitchen and everything changed.

  I sank down onto the couch, and my phone caught my eye. Why was the screen lit up?

  I picked up my iPhone to see a text message. From my mom.

  “Honey, you should just enjoy yourself and not worry about Anya. After all, you have been in love with this Jake boy for years!”

  Right there on my phone for Jake to see. My mother had said I was in love with him. It was so totally like my mom to say it like that. She couldn’t just say “crushing on” or that I “liked” him. No, my mother had to say “in love with.”

  Suddenly Jake’s “just playing around” comment made sense. He didn’t mind kissing me, but he wasn’t ready to date me. Nice. I shook my head. No way was I going to mope about a guy who freaked out that easily. Either he liked me or he didn’t.

  I’d spent all day yesterday doing the heartbroken thing, and I was totally over it.

  Sighing, I went into the kitchen. I pulled out my notebook and started working out the anchovy substitution. I’d put my research on hold long enough. I refused to think about Jake, and I almost succeeded.

  When Mom got home, we came up with a plan. We called it the Flirt-a-thon. The idea was to show Jake how little he meant to me by flirting with everyone else in the world. And I do mean everyone.

  I thought it would be hard, but once I was in the flirt mode, I couldn’t seem to come back out. I even flirted with Wesley Milbert. The unfortunate side effect was that I think he fell in love with me. He asked me out, and I had to turn him down. Then I felt like crap all day.

  At dinner Tuesday night, I informed Mom that the Flirt-a-thon was a miserable failure. She sat down on the couch next to me. “Maybe we should call in a favor.”

  Calling in a favor meant trading a potion to a witch for another service like a spell. We still suffered the punishment to our appearance. “What would we do anyway, Mom? Make him date me? I don’t want a boyfriend who acts like an idiot. He has to regain his sanity on his own.”

  Jasmine rubbed against my leg and I picked her up.

  Mom grinned. “I was thinking more like turning him into a frog, but whatever. It’s your call.”

  Hmmm. “Would he stay a frog, or could I kiss him and turn him into a prince?” I petted Jasmine who was purring on my lap.

  “Again, your call,” Mom said, laughing.

  The rest of the week, I avoided both Anya and Jake at school. It didn’t make for pleasant lunches. I didn’t want Camille to have to choose between me and Anya so I went over and sat with the exchange students and my friend Jill. She served as the unofficial welcoming committee. Jill’s father was from Ivory Coast and her mother was from Chile, so she was fluent in French and Spanish. She loved everything international. The exchange students were pretty nice, most of them, and I had to concentrate so hard to understand what they were saying that it took my mind off of everything else.

  Anya was really getting on my nerves because she was still seeing Brad. She had no right to tell me what to do.

  Apparently, she didn’t know that Jake and I were already over. Or maybe she did. I didn’t care.

  Okay, I cared. She was my best friend in the world. We’d been fri
ends since kindergarten. I’d never told her I was a witch, but she knew everything else about me. Like that I pee in my pants if I laugh really, really hard. And I knew stuff about her. Like that she still stuffs her bra. And that tampons scare her.

  It got to the point that I couldn’t concentrate in chemistry. And I was a whiz in chemistry. I almost blew up the lab. That wouldn’t look good when I applied to medical school. Plus, the program was funded with a special grant. They’d probably cut the advanced science programs if the school burned down.

  By Friday, I was a basket case, and I had to spend the weekend with my dad.

  And I started my period. The only thing worse than my period was dealing with it at my dad’s apartment. Even if I had supplies, which this time I did, there was still the issue of sleeping on the pristine white futon.

  You’d think a witch could handle a little thing like menstruation.

  I’d tried once. I used a potion to make it clear instead of blood red. I figured it would get rid of the whole staining problem. Unfortunately, the potion had side effects. For a week, my burps and farts were blue. You think they’re embarrassing normally. Try watching them float by in color.

  After that, I’d left well enough alone.

  We watched an excruciatingly long documentary on HBO. Then Dad decided it was bed time.

  I went to the linen closet and got three bath towels to put on the futon, for added protection.

  I had just pulled the covers over me when Dad came back down the hall.

  “I forgot to tell you about tomorrow,” he said from the doorway.

  I braced myself for bad news. “Tomorrow?”

  He grinned. “We’re going to Dollywood with Sheree and Jake.”

  And there it was.

  Saturday morning, bright and early, Dad and I picked up Jake and Sheree. Sheree hopped into the Prius with a bright, cheerful smile. Jake’s expression, on the other hand, reflected my opinions on the day.

  He was the last person I wanted to be trapped in the car with for an hour each way even if he did look really hot in his Levi’s. Since he’d blown me off, we’d avoided each other. Now, we sat stiffly side-by-side as Sheree and Dad chattered in the front seat.

  I tugged at my Old Navy retro-print t-shirt. Listening to my father try to flirt sent pangs of nausea to my stomach. Hearing Sheree flirt back was painful. But the worst part of it all was when Dad tried to buddy up to Jake. I would have killed to turn the radio on.

  “So, Jake, your mother tells me you’re really into basketball,” Dad said, taking a break from gushing over Sheree.

  “Yeah. I play in the church league.” Jake sounded as uncomfortable as I felt.

  “He’s been playing for years,” Sheree said. “He really enjoys it.”

  “I played some basketball in my day,” Dad said.

  Now, in case you forgot, my father is a nuclear physicist. He wears the thick glasses and has the pitiful eyesight you might expect of someone that brainy. He is also the most uncoordinated person on the face of the earth—a fact confirmed by my mother and by his own parents. Dad would probably knock himself unconscious if he tried to shoot a basketball.

  I didn’t want to embarrass Dad, so I just didn’t say anything at all.

  “Maybe we should shoot some hoops sometime,” Dad said. There was nothing more pathetic than an old guy trying to be cool.

  “Oh, that’s a lovely idea, John,” Sheree cooed. “I’ll bet Zoe isn’t too bad herself.”

  “I’m bad all right,” I answered. “I’m tall, but honestly, I have no athletic ability.”

  “Sure,” Sheree turned to wink at me over the headrest. “Maybe we should take on the guys.”

  People always assumed that my height of five feet nine inches translated into being good at sports. With me, it totally didn’t.

  “Actually, Mom,” Jake said with a glance my way. “Anya always said Zoe was terrible at sports.”

  “I know you’re trying to get her for your team, Jake,” his mother answered. “We aren’t playing parents against kids, that wouldn’t be fair.”

  Dad and I would probably knock each other down and break something, and then Sheree and Jake could finish the game themselves. I laughed.

  I guess Dad thought I was being rude, because he said, “Zoe,” like some kind of warning.

  Whatever.

  Jake glanced my way and asked, “You really do stink. Don’t you?”

  I just glared at him because he was in no position to judge me. Jerk.

  Finally, we turned into the parking lot at Dollywood. I know that I should think it was totally lame and all, but I didn’t. The place was as much fun as any other amusement park. And the name might be hokey, but Dolly Parton did a lot for the people who lived around there. I couldn’t dislike her. Besides, her just managing to walk around every day with those giant breasts and not fall over was pretty impressive.

  After we went through the gate, Jake pulled me aside. “Look, Zoe. I know you’re mad at me, but I’m gonna puke if I have to spend the whole day following those two around.”

  I narrowed my eyes. He had a point.

  Jake continued, “So let’s split up and go do some fun things. We’ll both benefit.”

  I started to say, “No,” but then I heard Sheree giggling at something Dad had said. Bile rose in my throat. “Okay, fine,” I muttered.

  We arranged to meet Dad and Sheree at one of the restaurants for lunch at noon. That gave us three hours to explore the park. Before we could escape, photographers snapped pictures of me and Jake and of Dad and Sheree. They informed us that we could pick them up after eleven at the photo stand. Jake made a face. I laughed and we headed off in the opposite direction from our parents.

  “Let’s do the roller coasters first,” Jake said.

  “Okay, but then we have to do the merry-go-round and the Ferris wheel.” Personally, I thought the Ferris wheel was scarier than the roller coasters because you got stuck up there for so long. I had a fear of heights which I liked to test on occasion to prove I could beat it. As for the merry-go-round... Well, that was just plain fun.

  Jake rolled his eyes but he knew he didn’t have a choice.

  We waited in the first line without talking much. Jake kept looking at me like I might attack him or something.

  I’d forgotten how much fun screaming and thinking you were going to die could be. We had a great time. We rode all the cool rides twice. Jake made fun of me until he almost lost his breakfast for a minute there. Then, I teased him. I hadn’t laughed this much in forever.

  Chapter Six

  By the time we caught up with our parents at their table in the café, we were actually friends again. I’d buried all the kisses so far back in my mind, I could almost look at his lips without thinking about them.

  “Zoe,” Sheree said, dipping her nacho in the spinach con queso. “Your dad says you plan to be a doctor.”

  I knew I was on solid ground. I mean, who’d complain about that career path. “That’s the plan, Mrs. Townsend.”

  “Call me Sheree,” she said, carefully lifting the chip to her mouth so that it wouldn’t drip on her burgundy sweater set.

  Okay, so I call her Sheree and Jake calls Dad, John, but I can’t call Dad, John, and Jake can’t call Sheree, Sheree. I smiled at the ridiculousness of the situation.

  “Jake doesn’t know what he wants to do,” Sheree told me, shaking her head. “He isn’t as goal-oriented as you are.”

  “That’s not true,” I said, looking at Jake. “He knows he wants to help people.” I knew all about him, of course.

  “He wants to put off college.” She lowered her voice as if the concept were embarrassing.

  “That’s still years away,” Dad said over the clinking and clanking of dishes in the cafe.

  “I want to go into the Peace Corps,” Jake said.

  I wouldn’t mind his hotness so much, but did he have to be such a good guy too? He made it very hard to dislike him.

  “I think t
hat’s really nice. And selfless.” I reached for a chip.

  “I guess,” Sheree muttered.

  “Helping people can’t be a bad idea, right?” I looked at Jake as I said it but I sensed Sheree’s scowl.

  “I think Sheree would rather he help people in a way that allows him to support himself,” Dad said, lifting his ice water to take a sip.

  Great. So now we were in the middle of all their family drama. Popping the chip in my mouth, I wondered again if this whole situation was some kind of sick joke.

  “Oh, Sheree,” Dad said, his voice suddenly cheerful. “Show them the pictures.”

  “I forgot all about them,” she said. She reached for her purse and dug through it.

  Dad had already learned how to distract her.

  She pulled out two photos in cardboard frames. “Oh, they’re so cute. Look, here’s us and here are you.” She set them on the table and Jake and I dutifully looked at them.

  The photographer had captured Jake with a stiff smile. He still looked hot. I didn’t look half bad, and I’d have loved to keep the picture. Of course, I pretended I wasn’t very interested. “You guys look great.”

  “And this one.” She nudged it closer. “The two of you make a handsome couple.”

  “Mmm,” Jake said.

  “Hmm,” I said.

  Then, we both turned our attention to the queso.

  The ride home was quiet. Apparently, even Dad and Sheree were all talked out. Dad popped in a U2 CD from the 80s which sounded pretty decent.

  Mom studied me over the mahogany dinner table once I got home. We ate in the formal dining room at least once a week so she could justify the expense of having redecorated it. “How was it?”

  “Okay,” I said cutting my chicken carefully so as not to scratch the good china with my knife.

  “I’m going to make you pay me a dollar for every time you say ‘okay,’” she complained. Her wart had almost disappeared and the soft light of the chandelier flattered her complexion.

  “Whatever,” I said with a smile.