Confessions of a Heartbreaker (13 page)

She glances up at me in surprise. "Read the question carefully, Parker, and then look at your answer."

I read through the question, then my answer. My brows draw together in confusion. Wait a minute... why did I...
Crap
. She's right. Another trick question! I circled the wrong damn answer.

Feeling completely aggravated, I slide my fingers through my hair wanting to tear it out. I'm just about to drop the F-bomb, probably more than once if I'm being truthful, before I compress my lips together in an angry thin line. All I can do is stare sightlessly up at the ceiling as I blow out a long slow breath. Man, I studied so hard for that test.

Three wrong answers.
Three
. That's a... that's a 94%.
Crap
.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but- well done, Parker, well done."

I shrug, not bothering to even glance at her.

Yeah, it's certainly the best grade I've ever earned on a test, especially in this class, but still, I wanted that date. I wanted to take Jordan out this Friday night. I had it all planned out in my head, too. I've never actually taken a girl out on a real date before. I mean sure, I've hooked up at parties and after games and had girls come over to study (wink-wink). As I'm sure you can imagine, there wasn't a whole lot of studying going on either. Unless studying anatomy counts. If it does, then we studied our asses off. But I've never actually picked a girl up at her house, taken her somewhere legit, engaged in an activity that did not involve some level of nakedness or groping, and then dropped her back off at her house. And I kind of wanted to do that with Jordan.

"96%. You should be very proud of yourself."

"What?" My eyes slam back down to the paper. There's a huge red 96% circled at the top of my exam. "But I got three wrong- that's a 94%." I may not be the sharpest knife in the place where they keep the knives, but I know that a- 47 out of 50 equals 94%. Not 96%.

She flips the paper over and points to the bottom of the test. "Extra credit.  You got it right.  Two extra points brings your grade to a 96%. Congratulations."

I actually pump my fist in the air. Twice. I also yell a bit too loudly- "
Yes
!" I'm wondering if doing a little victory dance would be overkill. Oh, what the hell- I do a little touchdown dance. Because I just scored!

"Parker!" Ms. Fisk's lips twitch at the corners just a bit before she says rather sternly, "I don't know what's gotten into you today, but go sit down before you get yourself in trouble."

"Sorry," I announce to the class in general, "Go back to your tests- even though most of you won't do as well as I just did." A few of them stare at me like I'm a total tool. But I'm fine with that. Oh, I am
so
fine with it!

96%
! Ha! I can't believe I actually pulled that off! Okay, so I guess I can rub my hands together now and laugh evilly because Friday night just got a whole lot more interesting. Look out Jordan baby, because you are mine, all mine.

At least for Friday night, that is.

I can't resist one more- "
Yes
!" Of course there's a little fist pump action to accompany it. Although this time I really do try to keep it on the down low. With a smug smile curving my lips upward, I slouch in my seat as I fold my arms behind my head.  Alright, one more tiny- "
Yes
!"

Okay,
now
I'm done.

Chapter Eleven

"Dude, are you like...
humming
?"

"What?"
I choke out the word in a very unfortunate, not to mention embarrassing, high pitched squeak as if I haven't quite hit puberty yet before clearing my throat and saying in a much deeper, manlier voice, "
No- of course not
!"

But apparently, yeah... I was.  I was totally humming. Jeez!  Can you believe that?

Humming...

What's next- am I suddenly going to break out into a song and dance number?  Maybe get my jazz hands on?
Christ
.   I'll tell you, this kind of BS has got to stop.  But here's the problem- I'm not exactly sure how to stop being so into Jordan.  Ever since that girl slammed into my life, I've been acting like a love sick little puppy dog. The kind with big dreamy eyes. Yeah, it's actually a little pathetic now that I think about it.

Okay, so maybe it's a lot pathetic.

And humming in the dude's locker room, that's so uncool it's scary. Right now, I'm actually scaring myself.  Apparently I'm scaring Max as well because he's eyeing me like he doesn't even know who I am anymore.

After a moment, he mutters under his breath so that only I can hear, "You don't
hum
in the locker room unless you're looking to get your ass kicked. And seriously, after listening to that totally sad rendition of
Say Something
...damn, I'd probably let them do it."  He shakes his head as if I'm too pitiful for actual words.  Which only adds insult to injury.
"Humming..."

He's right though.

And contrary to what Max is thinking- I am not looking to get my ass kicked. Not tonight anyway. Because tonight is my big date with Jordan. The one I've been obsessing about. My reward, if you want to call it that and I do, for going head to head on that test with Ms. Fisk and not only living to tell the tale- but acing the damn thing. Yep, still can't get over that one. It'll probably go down in the history books as one of my greatest achievements.

Okay- so back to this whole date thing. I've decided to kick it a little old school tonight with Jordan. I'm going the whole nine yards. I've got it all planned out. That girl is definitely not going to know what hit her. Unless, of course, it's
me
hitting
on
her. Because when I hit on a chick, trust me, they know it. Oh yeah, baby...

And tonight I'm going to have her all to myself and I'm not even going to tell you what-

"Earth to Montgomery, come in Montgomery!"

That voice has me snapping out of the sexy little fantasy that was just about to start rolling through my head. "Yeah?"

You see what I'm talking about? That girl is seriously more dangerous than drugs. It's like someone scooped out my frontal cortex.

"We're hanging at Will's after this, you in?"

"Nah," freshly showered, I swipe on some pit sauce, "got me some plans." It's seriously taking everything I have inside me to not hum like a complete idiot- that's how stoked I am about tonight. I just want to get her in my arms and-

"Well change them because some of the
ladies
from the cheerleading team will be making a cameo appearance this evening. And Natalie will definitely be one of them. She specifically asked if you were gonna be there tonight." Adam makes a few lewd gestures and noises to accompany this information. That guy can be such an immature tool sometimes.

"Still can't make it." Searching through my locker, I find my t-shirt before pulling it over my head.

"Wait a minute- you're actually going to say no to a little heavy breathing action with Natalie Cosgrove?" Adam swaggers over before trying to lay a hand across my forehead as if he's checking for a temperature. Impatiently I bat it away.

"What- you sick or something? No one turns down a chance to bang that hot little body unless they're getting it somewhere else." Then he smirks. "So who you doing tonight, Montgomery? Anyone I've already done? Are you in the mood for some sloppy seconds?"

"Get the hell out of here, Birkmen!" The mere thought of Adam touching one blond hair on Jordan's head has me seeing red.

A little surprised by my sudden outburst of anger, he shrugs carelessly before narrowing his eyes. Okay, so maybe I need to cage the rage where Jordan's concerned. It's just that I really can't stand to hear anyone, especially this douche bag, talk about her like that. Even if he doesn't exactly know that he's talking about her... like, um, that...

Oh for God's sake, you know what I mean.

"Whatever, dude, it's your loss." Then he grins. "Poor little Natalie will be so lonely without you. Guess I'll just have to comfort her. She probably won't know what to do with all those extra inches."

A couple of the guys snicker behind him as they wait to see what I'll do. But I just roll my eyes because I'm not about to get into a pissing match about the size of my johnson. Not with this guy, anyway. And yeah, I've snuck a few peeks in the locker room- he's not all that. In fact, he's a hell of a lot
less
than that.

"Yep, guess you will."   Impatiently I haul my bag up onto my shoulder. Honestly, I just want to get the hell out of here. I've got better things to do than listen to Birkmen talk smack about the size of his microscopic chubby. "See you ass wipes later."

"Hold up, I'll walk out with you." Max grabs his bag as we both push through the locker room door before heading out to the parking lot.

"Don't let Birkmen get to you. You know he's harmless."

Still feeling irritated, I give him a sideways glance. "Tell that to the blow up doll he violates ten different ways on a nightly basis."

Max chuckles. "Dude, that is so not the image I want in my head. Anyway, I think he popped that thing a few months ago."

"Yeah, I'm actually a little sorry I brought it up myself." Because now all I can see is Birkmen trying to get it on with the life sized blow up doll we duck taped to the hood of his jeep last year. Hell, the dude wasn't supposed to actually use it...

"So," he drawls, "where exactly you taking Jordan tonight?"

I grin... pretty much like an idiot, I'm sure. "Well, first-"

Wait a minute.

How did he know I was going out with Jordan tonight?  My feet grind to a sudden halt before I turn slowly towards him. "How the hell did you know?"  Apparently I haven't been nearly as covert as I thought I was being.

A huge smile breaks out across Max's face as he says with a fair amount of smugness, "I didn't."

My eyes narrow.
Great.
For just a moment I think about downplaying it but what's the point? "Listen, just keep all this to yourself for the time being." Then my eyes narrow further. "And I definitely don't want you telling Captain Crazy about this- you got that?"

Man, if Max lets it slip to Emily, she'll have it blabbed all over school within an hour. And that would definitely not be good for business. Since this date tonight is actually more of a
non-date
. That was one of the many stipulations Jordan insisted on before agreeing to even do this. Because,
apparently
, Hartley wasn't all that keen on us getting together outside of our normal tutoring sessions at the library.

Which, quite naturally, makes me smile.

Evilly, of course.

"Trust me, I got it." Then the douche starts singing. And we're talking seriously horrendous, make-my-ears-bleed, off-key singing.
"Parker has a girlfriend. Parker has a girlfriend-
"

I swear to God, if he begins some effing rendition of-
Parker and Jordan sitting in a tree
, I will literally punch him.

Which is exactly when he breaks into- "
Parker and Jordan sitting in a
-"

That's it! I haul off, plowing my fist right into his gut. I hear him grunt as he doubles over. And I have to admit, it's a rather satisfying sound.  I almost want to do it again.

"Dude, that was so uncalled for," he laughs as he rubs his hopefully tender belly.

I raise a brow. "You keep busting my balls and I will seriously beat the crap out of you."

"Boy, love sure hasn't put you in a good mood."

Glaring, I say, "I am not in
love
!" Does he have some serious retardation issues going on?
Love.
Give me a damn break.  It's a freaking non-date.  Nothing more.

"Oh come on, Parker, just let me enjoy this for a moment. This is the first and probably last time I'll ever see you whipped over some girl. I honestly never thought I'd see the day. And you know what the kicker is? It's over some teeny tiny chick who doesn't even seem all that into you. This couldn't possibly get anymore hilarious."

Then he looks off into the distance as if suddenly transfixed by something only he can see as he says in a monotone voice, "It's like I've entered some sort of bizarre parallel universe." He looks up at the sky before rubbing his eyes. "Up is now down. Down is up. How do I know what's real anymore? What's real?  What's fake?  How can I tell?" Apparently Max is only interested in cracking himself up because he drops the whole act when he starts laughing.  At my freaking expense, no less. "Oh my God... Parker Montgomery whipped!" Then he actually laughs some more before repeating, "
Whipped
!"

As he says it one final time, the word reverberates hollowly throughout my head.  "I am not-" My teeth clench tightly as I wrap my lips around the word, "
whipped
."