Investigating the Hottie (8 page)

“I’m not planning to date him.” I stood up a little straighter to use my height to its best advantage. Maybe I could combat their intimidation tactics.

“Then why would you go play soccer with a bunch of guys?”

“For fun. I didn’t know he’d be there.” I tried to avoid starting an all-out war with these idiots while letting them know that they weren’t going to run me off. If I wanted to date Will, they sure wouldn’t stop me. Luckily, I didn’t. Or couldn’t, or just plain didn’t have time to date him anyway.

Jenny’s accusing glare begged for a slap across the cheek.

My hand twitched with anticipation. But starting a girl fight wasn’t consistent with the low profile I was keeping. Plus, it just wasn’t my style.

Darn.

“Look,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t betray my irritation, “if you want to come out and play tonight. I’m sure the guys wouldn’t mind. Otherwise, I have to get to class.”

“Oh. So you’re not going to Will’s soccer game tonight?” Meg asked.

Jenny punched her in the arm.

“Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten.”

Meg waited to see if Jenny would allow her to speak.

“They’re playing at six,” Jenny said grudgingly.

“Great!” I smiled my biggest, brightest smile. “I’ll see you there!”

I turned and walked away, letting my ugly bruise be the last they saw of me. Take that!

In Art, Alana, the girl at my table who could actually draw, decided to talk to me. She was apparently just being friendly. Go figure.

“I could show you some of the basics about drawing sometime if you want.”

“Are you saying I need help?” I joked.

“Well . . .” She looked uncomfortable.

“I’m kidding. I definitely would . . . will never pass this class. It’s nice of you to offer.” Of course, I didn’t have time for it, and I didn’t have to worry about it, because I was going home soon.
Note to self—never, ever, take an art class. You suck. Underline.  Underline. Underline.
 

She put her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I’d offer to help Will, too, but he probably doesn’t need it.”

Now I was offended. “Why not? He’s at least as bad as I am.”

Her chin-length brown curls bobbed as she nodded. “Definitely, but he’s the golden child of PA. He can do no wrong.”

“Really?” I should probably ask her more. I was supposed to be checking out what others thought of Will.

“Well, he’s a good student, popular, and a leader on the soccer team. Plus, he works really hard and all the teachers know it.” Like a co-conspirator, she whispered, “You can’t help but like him.”

“Everybody does seem to like him.”

“Yep. He could probably get away with murder around here.”

Yikes. Maybe, he was planning something bad for Monday. But being likeable wasn’t a crime. Could being popular really show bad character? Jenny and Meg came to mind.

Will came in and sat down with us just as I said, “I’d like some help, Alana. Thanks.”

Will looked at me and then at her. “You’re gonna help Amanda with art?”

“I offered to give her a few pointers. Something to get her started.”

“Can I get in on this?” Will asked.

Alana blushed. Those 200-watt blue eyes boring into her had an impact. “Sure.”

I didn’t realize she was shy around Will. I said, “You draw so well. Anything you can show us would have to help.”

“Thanks.” A big smile broke out across her face. “I love drawing. Math on the other hand is a nightmare.”

“I’ll help you, or er, Will can help you in math. He’s good at it.” What am I doing? Blowing my cover by knowing he tutors and setting up Will to spend hours with someone else. A pretty girl. I couldn’t screw up more at one time if I tried.

“Sure,” Will said, eyeing me. “Just let me know.” He looked at Alana. “I’ve got to do better in this class or my grade point average is shot.”

“Thanks for taking pity on us.” I winced thinking Will might not want to be included in the “pitiable” category.

The teacher walked in carrying a big bowl of fruit. “Today,” she said, gesturing with her chin, “we will concentrate more on shading.”

My stomach growled. I’d much rather eat that apple than draw it. I hoped Will hadn’t heard it. How embarrassing. Body noises were not meant for sharing.

“We’ll wrap up a little early today, so I can tell you about your choices for your first term project.”

I opened my sketchpad and braced myself for more failure. I really, really liked to do things well. I hoped this week in Art wouldn’t permanently cripple my self-esteem.

Looking over at Alana, I whispered, “How do you know where to put the shading?”

Alana gave me a friendly smile. “You look at the light and shading.”

I guess my face conveyed my response of “duh.”

“I’ll give you an example. Look at Will.”

Okay. I turned to look at Will, who squirmed.

Alana got up and came to stand behind me. “Let’s say you were drawing him. You’d study his features.”

“Right.” Not a bad way to spend an Art class.

“See how—” she started.

Will raised his eyebrows and crossed his eyes.

“Cut it out, Will,” Alana scolded.

He really didn’t like us staring at him. I said, “All you have to do is sit there. I have to actually figure out what she’s talking about.”

“True,” Alana said, “but he’ll be next. I’ll use you to show him the same thing.”

Oh no! My eyes widened.

Will smiled wickedly as if to say, “You’ll see how fun it is to have people staring at you.”

I knew I should have used more concealer on that zit this morning.

The idea of Will studying my face robbed me of the enjoyment of looking at his. Well, almost. His perfect skin. And I really liked his lips. And his dark, wavy hair. He had this energy about him, confidence maybe, that made him even more attractive. Did I mention his gorgeous blue eyes?

Alana walked over to me. “Okay, Will. See how the light leaves shadows, but her nose and cheekbones—”

I turned ever so slightly to show more of the zitless side.

“Okay, I think he gets it.” I waved her off.

“Oh, no,” he said. “I don’t get it.”

I tried to concentrate on what Alana said, but all I could do was try to fight a panicky feeling. He was concentrating all his attention on looking at me.

Oh my God! Please don’t let there be anything hanging out of my nose. My nose which probably appeared gigantic next to Alana’s pert little nose anyway. Crap.

And the thin little lips that I hated. I had to line the outside of them if I wore lipstick, otherwise they looked ridiculous. They hadn’t bothered me so much until now. He was probably trying to figure out why he couldn’t see my lips. He probably thought I was some kind of lipless freak.

At least my eyes were okay. Unless, did I . . . Please let me have checked my eyes for goop this morning. I was starting to have trouble breathing.

“Okay, class,” the teacher interrupted.

Thank goodness. Alana sat down, and Will turned his attention to the teacher. I’d survived.

“Pick up a project list on your way out. I’ve tried to give you a good variety, in order to focus on your strengths.”

Since I had no strengths, I didn’t pay much attention until I heard the words “computer graphics.”

I tuned in. “We have limited resources for the computer projects, so only a few of you can choose it. You’ll need to work with a partner, and you’ll present an initial project on Monday to show you are serious about it.”

Music to my ears. A computer project with a Monday deadline. Finally, a break in my case.

I smacked Will on the arm. “Let’s do it.”

He looked at me. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“I don’t know,” he said, and turned back to listen to the teacher.

Alana leaned over to me and whispered, “I knew she’d bail him out. She wouldn’t let him fail. Everybody knows he’s good with computers. His presentations are always stellar.”

I looked over at Will. If my aunt arrested him, could I still date him? Probably not.

The teacher finished it up just as the bell rang.

Will headed quickly for the door, but she held him up. “Will, Amanda, do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” Will said.

I just nodded.

“Did you hear what I was saying about the computer graphics project?” she asked.

“Yes,” Will said, clearly planning to follow it with a ‘but.’

“We’d love to do it.” I jumped in. “Thanks.”

She smiled at me. “Well, I know Will can do a good job at this. Are you comfortable with computers?”

“Oh, yeah.” I shrugged, trying to tone down the enthusiasm. “I’m no genius, but I’m okay.”

Will grimaced.

“Wonderful.” She was the oldest teacher I’d had, but she looked younger when she smiled. “I’ll get the tutorial ready, and you can start tomorrow.”

She was obviously thrilled to find a way to pass us.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Thanks,” Will grumbled.

Will walked so quickly I had to really struggle to catch up.

“Will, I’m not trying to just latch onto your brains. I can hold my own. We’ll do a good job.”

He stopped, eyed me, and opened his mouth. Then he said, “It’s the only option I’ve got at this point anyway.”

Great. How flattering. He’d do it because he had no choice. As a girl, I was insulted. As a spy, I’d done my job, and set up the rest of the investigation. “Can we work on it tomorrow night?”

“I don’t know. Can’t we wait until Friday? Then we’ll have all weekend.”

I’m thinking, no.
Because I’m desperate to see you in action, prove you’re the culprit, and have you punished.
But, what I said was, “Sure. Whatever.” 

He started walking again. “We’d better hurry to the cafeteria or we’ll get stuck with the meatloaf.”

“I hope it’s better than at my school. I mean, my old school.”

He lowered his voice. “I’m pretty sure it’s dog food here, so if your old school served something designed for human consumption, PA’s going to win this contest.”

“I wonder if this best of the worst stuff is bad for our character development.”

“Well, we’re not doing our Art project that way,” he said, “because I have to get a good grade.”

“Of course not!”

“We have to take it seriously,” he said.

“I’m the one who wants to start on it right away. Remember?”

He gave me a look I couldn’t quite define. He seemed like he was stressing, and I couldn’t understand why.

We made it to the cafeteria. I grabbed the last burger and an apple. Will was still loading up his tray, so I went and paid at the register.

I walked over to the table.

“Dude,” Colin said to me as I sat down. “Where’ve you guys been?”

Kyle muttered something to Mark and laughed.

“Ms. Roberson held us up,” I explained. The last thing I wanted was for them to think we’d ducked into a broom closet. It wasn’t the last thing I wanted to do, but I didn’t want them thinking it.

“Sure,” Colin said.

Whatever dude.

“Actually, Mrs. Roberson was looking for some nude models for her night class at the college. Will suggested you, but she said she needed a more mature form.”

Colin opened his mouth and closed it. I guess he hadn’t expected that from me.

The others broke into laughter.

Will finally showed up. He’d just set down the tray and pulled out the plastic chair when my boob started to vibrate.

Wonderful. I had no choice but to leave. So I said, “Excuse me gentlemen, but my breast needs my attention.”

No. Actually, I jumped up, grabbed my backpack and the burger, and said, “Forgot about something. See you guys later.”

Clutching my backpack to my chest, I fled the cafeteria.

I could just hear Kyle asking why I’d run off when Colin was the one who should have been embarrassed.

I heard Kyle’s “oof” when Colin slugged him just as I went out the door.

Veering into the restroom, I glanced around and whipped out the boob phone.

“Hello,” I said.

“Tina?” asked a voice on the line.

“No.”

“Oh, sorry. Wrong number.”  

“What?”

Click.

A wrong number on an agency wireless? You gotta be kidding me.

Instead of flushing the phone down the toilet, I went back to the hall, sat on the floor, and ate my burger.

Chapter Seven

Nic picked me up from school and ran me by Christie’s apartment to change clothes. The girls were playing at five, so we ordered Chinese and ate at his apartment. It was the mirror image of Christie’s with all the furniture black instead of white.

“So you’re like the bad guy with the black wardrobe.” I pushed the remains of my Beef and Green Peppers across the dining table and looked around.

Nic chuckled. “That’s probably what Christie would tell you. I think the agency keeps it black and white for simplicity. Most of the furniture has hidden compartments or hidden technology.”

“What’s hidden in the couch? A sofa bed?” I glanced over at the completely ordinary black leather sofa.

Nic coughed. “No. Weapons actually.”

I turned to see if he was kidding. “Weapons. I’ve been sitting on a pile of weapons?”

He appeared amused. “It’s not bombs or anything. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t even tell me where you hide the bombs,” I joked.

“I won’t.” He took another mouthful of Chow Mein.

I hoped he was kidding.

Nic was impressed that I’d managed to force Will into the computer graphics project. “Not bad for the first mission, Amanda.”

“Thank you.” I was pretty proud of myself. “So what do I look for when I get to his room?”

“It doesn’t take much to be a hacker. Some of these guys have really expensive setups. But all he really needs is two CPU’s, one of them will probably have wires spilling out of it, and a cable modem.”

“Do you know this from experience?” I teased.

“No.” He shook his head. “My talents definitely do not lie with computers. I’m more of a people person.” He rolled his eyes. “Despite what your aunt says.”

The sunny Fall afternoon was perfect for a soccer game. We found a place in the stands just as the girls team ran out on the field. Nic and I cheered along with the crowd which made a sort of pathetic racket that couldn’t have been very encouraging for the team. Apparently, the old trick of having the girls’ team open for the boys’ had failed to bring in more fans.