Seeker (The Seeker Series Book 1) (10 page)

“Huh?” He stared at me and didn’t seem to be picking up on my oh-so-subtle subterfuge.

I stared back at him hopefully. “You know, the paper?”

“Um, yeah, sure. Hey, Shelly, tell Manny that I’m taking a break. I’ll be back in a few.” He stuffed the towel in his back pocket and gestured for me to follow him. “Come on. We can go to the kitchen. Nobody’s there.”

He led me down a hallway, past restrooms, to a small kitchen with an old-fashioned dinette set that looked like a cast-off from some grandmother’s 1970s kitchen. “Have a seat.” He motioned to one of the cracked vinyl chairs and opened the refrigerator. “Would you like a Coke or a Sprite or something?” he offered, still seeming confused to see me in his place of employment. I accepted a Sprite. He sat down opposite me and opened a can of Coke for himself and took a sip, all the while still staring. “You look…different.”

Well, great. “Different?”

“No, I mean you look…good,” he ended on a whisper. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?” He looked up from his soda.

I took a sip of Sprite. “No, everything’s fine.” I looked down at the scarred tabletop. Well, this was going brilliantly.

“
Shit
,” I heard him mutter under his breath. “What’s going on, Ally? Why did you come here, to my work?” he asked quietly.

“I’m so sorry, Jack. This was a mistake.” I got up to leave, mortified at what I’d been about to do. I planned to slink back home and never leave my room.

He put his hand on my arm to stop me. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I was just surprised to see you. What did you need?”

I sat back down. “I wanted, um, I just wanted to know…” I couldn’t finish.

“Hey.” He rubbed my arm gently. His touch, light as it was, felt so incredibly good. “It’s okay. Tell me.”

Finally, the dam burst. “Jack, what did I do? Why won’t you talk to me?” I couldn’t keep the tears from forming. Blast! Crap. Well, I was in all the way now. “What happened to us? I thought we were friends, but you’ve been really distant lately. You barely talk to me anymore.”

“Aw, jeez, Ally.” He moved from his chair to kneel in front of mine. He reached up to wipe the tears that were starting to make their way down my cheeks. I hoped the eyeliner and mascara that the girl at Sephora had coated my eyes with wasn’t running. “You haven’t done anything. It’s not you, it’s me.”

Oh, well. That makes it all so much better. That classic line. I started crying harder.

“Hey, hey. Come here.” He lifted me out of the chair and into his arms. Well, this was better. I had wanted to be in his arms for quite a while. It felt so good, so right to be held by him. “Shh. Don’t cry. We can figure this out.” He held me close, stroking my hair.

This gave me hope. I pulled back and looked up into his handsome face. “What’s going on, Jack? I miss the way it was. I miss you.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I miss you too. But I thought I was doing us both a favor. I told you it wasn’t a good idea for an 18 year old on probation to hang out with a 16 year old. My probation officer had a fit when he saw us together. That whole thing in the nurse’s office with the pregnancy wasn’t good for my report.”

“I’m so sorry, Jack. I never meant to get you in trouble. I just want to be friends.”

“Friends, huh?” he replied. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to be friends, Ally.”

I drew away from him, appalled. So he had been trying to back away from me and it wasn’t only my imagination. He wasn’t interested in being friends or anything else. The disappointment flooded through me, filling me with heaviness. Oh, God, I needed to get out of here! “Oh, okay. I just thought…I mean…but if you don’t want—” I started to back away.

“No, I mean”—he reached for me. “Jesus, Ally. Of course I want…ah, screw it. Of course we’re friends. I’m sorry I was such a jackass.”

I threw myself back in his arms. “Oh, thank God. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

He ‘oofed’ a little at my enthusiasm and slowly wrapped his arms back around me, stroking my hair once or twice before pulling back and tipping my chin up with his finger. “It’s that important to you, Ally? I didn’t think it would matter that much.” He looked vulnerable as he stared into my eyes.

I nodded and laid my head back against his hard chest. “Yeah, Jack. It’s that important.”

“Okay. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you. I was trying to do what’s right for both of us. I don’t think I’m good for you, Ally.”

“Being friends is right for us,” I whispered against him. “You’re definitely good for me, Jack.”

We stayed like that for a moment, holding each other. At length he let me go and said, “Listen, I gotta get back to work. Manny’s going to wonder what happened to me. How did you get here? Do you need a ride home?”

“No, Tara dropped me off. She’s waiting for me at the Starbucks.”

“So, Tara was in on this, huh?”

“Oh, it was completely her idea. She kidnapped me, dressed me up, drove me here, and practically pushed me out of the car,” I explained.

“Oh, great. Wonderful. I’ll have to thank her in person,” he muttered sarcastically. “So, uh, can I call you tonight?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course.”

“And can I drive you home from school tomorrow?”

“Well, that won’t work. I, uh, I actually have, uh, cheerleading tryouts after school tomorrow.” I couldn’t meet his eyes.

He choked on the Coke he had been in the process of sipping. He began coughing violently, so I moved around to whack him a few times on his back. If I got in a few caresses, well, that’s nobody’s business but my own. “That unbelievable, huh?” I asked sardonically.

“No,” he protested. “I just never pictured you as the cheerleader type. But whatever. I’m sure you’ll make a great cheerleader.”

“I’m sure I won’t make it on the squad. I’ve never cheerleaded? Cheer-led? In my entire life. Tara thinks it will be a great way to get close to Veronica and find out what she’s hiding.”

“So, another one of Tara’s brilliant ideas, huh? Well, I, for one, am looking forward to seeing you in one of those short little skirts.” He earned a light punch on the arm for that.

“Hey, don’t you have to get back to work? If I get you fired, your probation officer will not approve.” I grabbed his hand and said, “Come on. You can walk me out.”

When we emerged into the reception area again, Shelly was talking to an older man wearing the same sort of uniform as Jack. His said “
Manny
” on the pocket. He glanced at us, down at our locked hands, and then back to Jack’s face, the question written clearly on his face. “Hey, Jack. I was wondering where you had disappeared to. Now I see. And who is this?”

I dropped Jack’s hand and stepped forward, my hand now outstretched in greeting. “Hello, sir. I’m Ally Moran, a friend of Jack’s from school. I’m sorry I distracted him for so long. I needed to check on something we have to do for physics.”

“I thought it was for English,” said Shelly with a smirk. She was so off my Christmas list.

Jack stepped in at this rather awkward point. “We just needed to talk. Ally, this is my uncle, Manuel Jimenez, and this,” he gave a
look
at the young woman, “is my cousin, Shelly, who should mind her own business.” She laughed and came around the reception desk to greet me.

“Hi, Ally, so nice to meet you.” She gave me an exuberant hug and whispered, “good job, girl.”

Wow. I’m not much of a hugger, but she seemed nice. Maybe back on my Christmas list.

“Call me Manny. Nice to meet you, Ally,” Jack’s uncle said. Both of them stared at us expectantly. Awkward.

“Well, Jack,” I suddenly didn’t know where to put my hands. “I need to let you get back to work. I’ll, uh, talk to you later.”

“I’ll walk you over to Starbucks. Manny, I’ll be right back.”

“Sure, take your time,” Manny seemed unconcerned. Maybe he was playing it a little too cool.

“Yeah, take your time.” Shelly said with a snicker. I’m pretty sure Jack shot her the finger as he ushered me out the front door. I could hear her cackling as we left.

“I am so sorry about that,” Jack began.

“Don’t worry about it. It was very sweet. It was less awkward than a tea party.” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Only slightly. Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t I pick you up after your tryouts tomorrow and we can take Megan out for dinner and a movie? Or is that too lame?” It was cute to see him unsure of himself.

“It’s perfect. Just the sort of things friends would do.” I should have let it be, but I couldn’t resist reaching up on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. “See ya tomorrow. Thanks.” I left him standing in the Starbucks parking lot.

I was halfway to the door when he called out, “Hey!”

I turned back around expectantly.

“Tara did good. You look great!”

Tara was about halfway through a venti caramel macchiato when I joined her at the table. “Success? Judging by the look on your face,” she guessed.

I told her about our conversation while she had an insufferable ‘I told you so’ look on her face.

“So, you guys are playing the ‘we’re just friends game’? Kinda lame.”

“I don’t think he’ll try to take it any further until he’s off probation. He’s so damn noble,” I groused. “If he even wants to take it farther.”

“He does. Trust me on that. And in the meantime, you can enjoy torturing him,” she advised.

“Tara! That’s awful.” I thought for a moment. “Torture him how?” I asked slowly.

“Well, keep kissing him on the cheek, for starters. You should have seen the look on his face when you turned around to come in here. It was priceless. BTW, ‘just friends’ don’t typically go around doing that, you know. Unless the guy is gay.”

“Been there, done that, remember?” I interjected.

“Yes, I remember. That asshole. Why are we still friends with him?”

“Because we’ve known him since middle school. And he’s basically a good guy. But I can’t believe I wasted my first kiss on him.”

“Nuh uh, doesn’t count,” she stated emphatically. “That absolutely does not count. You get a do-over.”

“Oh, good. I want it to be Jack. I hope I don’t have to wait till I’m 20.”

“If you play your cards right, he could be your first
everything,
bow-chicka-wow-wow.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down suggestively.

“Wow. You had to go there. Not talking about this. Let’s go. I’ve got stuff to do and Jack said he’d call me tonight.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.”

–Henry David Thoreau

Why is it that when you’re dreading something, the time seems to fly by? I mean, seriously. I found myself in my last period English class the next day with shocking speed.

“Hey,” Jack tapped me on the shoulder. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” I snapped. He sat back in his seat abruptly and I felt like a jerk. I wrote a brief note on a half-sheet of notebook paper and turned around and set it on his desk.

I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a bitch. I’m just nervous—dreading these stupid tryouts.

I could hear him scratching a reply. He leaned forward and tossed it on my desk.

You could never be a bitch. Don’t worry about it. Remember how good you’re going to look in that skirt.

He had drawn a pair of pom-poms after the words. Quite the artist.

I wrote my reply under his.

I will not hesitate to kill you.

I could hear him chuckling as he read my reply. He scratched another reply.

Wait for me after class. I have a present for you.

When the bell rang, way too soon in my opinion, he gathered up his stuff, shouldered both our backpacks and said, “Come on. I’ll walk you to the gym.” I followed like a prisoner on the way to the gallows. “You know, I could stay and watch. Be your moral support and all that,” he offered.

“Absolutely, positively not,” I assured him. “I do not need anyone witnessing this debacle.”

“Nice SAT word. I was only teasing.” He pulled me into a deserted hallway and fished around in his backpack, pulling out a small, badly wrapped package. “Here. A good luck present.” He handed it to me.

“Jack, you didn’t need to do this,” I began. I pulled the wrapping off and found a new lock, the kind Veronica had used last time I was in the locker room. I started laughing. “Thanks. I was so wrapped up in my misery that I didn’t even think to get a new lock. I really appreciate it.”

“Well, we can’t have you getting your cellphone stolen again. This kind of lock is really hard to break into. I can personally guarantee that,” he said with a knowing look.

This was so touching I had to hug him. Yeah right. But I wanted to. I always want to. He hugged me back for far too short a moment and then pushed me away with what sounded like a groan.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he breathed. “Now, come on. You don’t want to miss your tryout.” I followed along, trying to hold in my triumphant smile.

When I got to the gym, I signed in and joined the other soon-to-be rejects on the bleachers. I looked around at my competition and my heart sank. There were some very pretty, very athletic-looking girls here. Wait, why was I disappointed? Did I really want this? Nah! It must be my competitive nature peeking through. I couldn’t possibly truly have a desire to be a
cheerleader,
could I? Inconceivable, to quote
The Princess Bride.

It turned out that this was only an informational meeting and there would be a clinic after school Monday through Wednesday where we would learn a routine and the actual tryouts would be Thursday, in groups of three. We would be judged on our knowledge of the clinic dance, sideline, jumps, and tumbling.
What the hell was sideline?
On tryout day we would be required to wear red shorts, plain white shirt or tank top, hair in a high ponytail, and all jewelry out. The decisions of the judges were final and would be posted on the auxiliary gym doors by 9 p.m. Thursday evening. They handed out a bunch of paperwork we were also required to complete prior to the tryouts. Then the coach launched into the financial obligations involved and fundraising opportunities. I had no freaking idea being a cheerleader was so expensive! I nearly walked out right then, but managed to stay put through the rest of the lecture on draconian cheerleading in the 21st century.

***

By the time Jack picked me up at 4:30, my head was spinning. I sank, exhausted, into the passenger seat of his beautiful red Mustang, my hands full of paperwork.

“Ally!” Megan squealed from her car seat in the back.

I turned to greet her. “Hey, girlfriend. You ready for our hot date?”

She giggled in response. “Jack, she said it’s a date!”

“Yeah, I heard.” He gave me a smile as he closed the door for me and went around to the driver’s side. “So, how’s the newest OGHS cheerleader? When do I get to see that skirt?”

“Ha, ha,” I said. “Turns out there’s a lot more to it. Today was just an informational meeting to give us all this.” I waved the paperwork at him. “There’s a clinic next week to learn the routine, then the tryouts are Thursday.”

“You’re a cheerleader?” Megan breathed in worshipful awe.

“Not yet, sweetie. I still have to try out.” I turned back to Jack. “I don’t know about this. These people are really serious. I thought I’d go in, wave some pom-poms, say ‘ready, okay,’ and be on my way. And it’s mondo-expensive. I had no idea.”

“I want to be a cheerleader,” Megan continued, unabashed by my negativity toward her revered sport. “Will you teach me, please, Ally?”

“Well, if I make it, I will teach you whatever I learn, but I don’t think I’ve got a very good chance of making it.” To Jack I said quietly, “I don’t even know if I’ll go back.”

Jack reached over and touched my hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. Can I just say that I love it when he does that? “Do you believe this cheerleading thing will help you find out what you need from Veronica?”

I thought for a minute. “Yeah, I guess I do. I hope so.”

“Then,” he continued, “you will go back and try out. And you will make it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you. You do what needs to be done.”

I squeezed his hand. How did I stumble onto such a sweet guy? If I could only get him to get over his ridiculous, noble idea that he wasn’t good for me. “Thanks,” I said quietly.

“I really need to see you in that skirt,” he teased and put his hand back on the steering wheel.

I gave him a mock disapproving look and turned back to Megan. “So, girlfriend, what movie are we going to see? Sci-fi, horror, or does your brother want to see the latest chick-flick?”

She giggled again. “We get to see a cartoon.” She named the latest Pixar movie to hit the big screen. “Is that okay? Do you like cartoons?” she asked worriedly.

“I love them! I have every Pixar movie ever made on Blu Ray. You can come over to my house and we’ll have a movie marathon.”

“Wow,” she whispered. “Can I, Jack? Please?”

“Sure, squirt. Sounds fun.” He reached to squeeze my hand again.

We got to the movie theater and Jack bought our tickets. I tried to pay for mine since we were ‘just friends’ and all, but he simply gave me a disgusted look and continued paying. “Come on. Let’s get some popcorn.” We decided to get a large bucket and put Megan between us with the popcorn on her lap. Jack stopped to get a booster seat for her on our way into the theater. I realized that Jack acted more like Megan’s father than her older brother, perhaps because of their age difference or perhaps because her real father was out of the picture. I also realized we probably seemed more like a young family out for the evening to the people around us in the theater. To my surprise, I found this didn’t bother me in the least. We got settled as the previews started. Jack opened the box of candy he had bought for Megan and she commenced feeding pieces to each of us. She seemed to delight in Jack’s monster noises when he pretended to bite it out of her hand. I was seriously falling for this guy. He had to have some faults, didn’t he? Any at all? Well, he did have a tendency to be bossy and take over sometimes, but even that could be filed under ‘sexy confidence.’

Previews over, we settled down to watch the feature. Megan turned out to be a good theater patron, laughing in all the right places, but not talking or being disruptive any other time. About halfway through the movie, she poked me and motioned for me to look at Jack. He was clearly asleep, slunk down in his seat with his head resting against the back, mouth open slightly. We both smiled at each other.

“He always falls asleep during movies and T.V.,” she whispered. “Auntie Trina says he works too hard and takes too much classes at CNM.” Only it sounded more like ‘cinnamon’. She was completely adorable.

As the credits began to roll, he woke up with a confused look around. “Wha…? Where’s Megan?”

Megan giggled. “I’m right here. You took a nap.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “A $10.25 nap.”

Jack smiled sheepishly. “Money well spent. I’m starving. You guys ready for some dinner?”

“Can we go to El Patron? Please, Jack?” Megan begged.

“Well, let’s make sure that sounds good to Ally. You need to check with her,” Jack replied.

“Ally, it’s really fun. They have music and dancing!” Megan enthused. “And tacos. I love tacos! Do you want to go?”

“Music and dancing? What kind?” I have to admit I was picturing a bar. It was the only place I could think of that would have music and dancing, but I couldn’t visualize Jack taking his little sister to a bar.

“Tell her, Jack,” Megan tugged on his hand.

“You’ve never been? It’s that big place over on Montgomery; used to be a Garduños?” he asked. At my headshake in the negative he continued, “It’s pretty decent Mexican food, and they have a two-man band in the back room and people dance. It’s really kind of a senior citizen-thing, but Megan loves it.” He shrugged. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

“No, of course not. This is Megan’s date and it sounds fun.” To the little girl I said, “Does Jack dance with you or do you just watch?”

“He dances with me! He loves to dance!” Jack was rolling his eyes. “But he’ll dance with you too. So will I.”

We drove a few miles to the restaurant, a sprawling adobe behemoth that had opened in the last year. I had never been and was looking forward to trying a new place. Also to maybe having an opportunity to dance with Jack. And eat with him. And look at him. And smell him. I had it so bad for this guy.

As we entered the front lobby, Jack said, “Why don’t you and Megan go grab a seat over there”—he nodded toward the fairly crowded waiting area—“while I get us on the list. I’ll try to get us a seat in the back with the band,” he assured Megan.

I watched him approach the reception podium where an attractive young woman, probably in her early twenties, was taking names. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could tell she was more than amenable to trying to accommodate Jack’s request for special seating, if her admiring glances and coy smiles were any evidence. I truly don’t think Jack was attempting to schmooze her, but I also don’t think he was aware of how truly good-looking he was. I knew from experience that he simply needed to smile down at her from his nearly 6-foot height, and she was putty in his hands. I chose to be amused rather than annoyed since he seemed unaware of the undercurrents. He came to sit down by us with one of those little plastic pagers that lights up when your table is ready.

“She said she’d try to get us a table by the band,” he assured Megan. “What?” he asked as he noticed I was trying not to laugh.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure she’s gonna try
real hard,”
I said with a smirk, nodding my head toward the girl, who had watched him walk away, eyes never leaving his backside. I can’t blame her at all since I, myself, had enjoyed the same view on numerous occasions.

“Huh?” he asked in a clueless manner that was really kind of cute. “She was really nice. I think we’ll get a good table.”

“I’m sure we will,” I replied quietly. He gave me a quizzical look.

Megan got up from her seat and plopped herself on Jack’s lap, leaned against his broad chest, and yawned. “Hey, now. Don’t you go falling asleep on our date.” He brushed her long, dark hair out of her face and then tickled her.

She giggled and said, “Like you did?”

He tickled her more and said, “Yeah, like I did. What a boring old big brother, huh?”

She snuggled sleepily against him. “You’re not that old.”

“Oh, but I’m boring, huh? Is that it?” He tickled her some more.

Just then the plastic pager lit up, notifying us that our table was ready. The hostess, after a last, longing look at Jack, handed us off to a waitress, who led us in a labyrinthine path through the restaurant to a table very close to the two-man musical group.

Jack said to the sleepy little girl in his arms, “Is this good? Close enough for you?” She smiled shyly and nodded.

In very short order we had chips and salsa in front of us, which seemed to revive Megan. As soon as we had placed our order, she hopped down from her seat and tugged at Jack’s hand. “Dance with me,” she ordered.