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Authors: Jenny B. Jones

Tags: #Christian/Fiction

So Over My Head (8 page)

BOOK: So Over My Head
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I turn right back around and head in the direction I left her. She stands one door down from Enrique’s, staring at the opposite end of the street.

I’m just about to call out to her.

Then a yellow taxi pulls up to the curb.

I stop in my tracks as a woman steps out, one long leg at a time. Her giant sunglasses cover her eyes, and a large brimmed hat sits low over her forehead.

Christina looks around, and I duck behind a minivan.

I will be the first to admit I was born with more than my fair share of nosiness. I mean, what’s a girl to do? I figure if God gave it to me, then I should use it.

I step into the crowd on the sidewalk and weave my way closer to Christina and her acquaintance. The two talk, their faces intense. Their mannerisms rushed.

Ten feet away from them, a group of teenage girls stand in a huddle and chat. I inch toward them and hover on the outside of their circle. My ears perk at Christina’s voice.

“I tried to come alone today. You think I wanted to bring her?”

Oh! How rude! I should have just let her have it and not wasted the gum.

The other woman’s voice is so low, I can’t even hear it.

“I said I’d work on it, and I am. These things take time. I’ll give you the account numbers later.”

The woman with the giant shades mutters something, but it’s lost in the honking of a car.

Christina throws up her hands. “I haven’t been blinded. I know what my job is, and I’ll do it. We’re partners.”

She’s a one-woman agenting operation. Partners in what?

“Nobody crosses us and gets away with it.”

The girls beside me dissolve into loud giggles, covering up what the stranger says.

“Do you want something?”

I turn and one of the girls stares at me. Like I’m some sort of creepy lurker. Well, okay, I am. But whatever.

“Do I know you?” she asks.

I smile. “Well, you might’ve seen me and my family on TV recently. We were on a reality show, and—”

“That really wasn’t a question.” She backs up, her eyes suspicious. “That was code for ‘go away.’” She pushes her friends forward. “It’s just not safe on the streets anymore. Let’s go girls.”

“Bella?”

I jump at my name and find Christina behind me. I look around, but the stranger is gone.

“What are you doing?” Her voice has an edge sharper than a stiletto.

“I—I, um, came back to see if you wanted any coffee.” I wave my hand toward the group of disappearing girls. “But then I ran into some old friends and stopped.” To eavesdrop.

Christina studies me, her mouth in a firm line.

“Did you run into a friend too?” I ask.

Her eyes widen a fraction. So small you had to be looking for it—and I was. “No.” Christina licks her glossy red lips. “I did not.”

“Oh.” Hunger has robbed me of all subtlety, so I push on. “I thought I saw you talking to someone.”

Christina glances over her shoulder, in the direction the taxi came, before swiveling her razor eyes back to me. “You are mis-taken. The only person I have a need to talk to is your father—to tell him how you’ve ruined my day.”

chapter eight

O
n Monday morning, my friends sit around me in the courtyard, and I catch them up on my weekend craziness before the first-hour bell.

O“So did you tell your dad what Christina said to you?” Lindy puts the finishing touches on an English assignment and sticks it in her bag.

“No. My dad and I really aren’t in a good place right now. I didn’t feel like I could talk to him with nothing to go on but my suspicions. I just had this feeling like I should wait and collect more information first. But I know something is going on.”

“I totally would’ve had to put that woman in her place.” Ruthie leans on my stepbrother Budge, her head on his shoulder, her bouffant hair covering up his smiling face.

“I’m surprised you didn’t put her little sister in a choke hold too,” Matt says.

“Luisa asked me not to. But I can’t get that out of my mind. The bottom line is Christina is bad news, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it—the sooner the better.”

“I had a date last night.”

All heads swivel to Lindy.

“What?” My voice scares off a nearby bird. “With who? And why didn’t you call me?”

She laughs, her skin turning a light shade of pink. “It was very last-minute. After church, Bo Blades called me and took me out for pizza and ice cream.”

Ruthie sits up. “And you spent the rest of the evening staring into each other’s eyes and were so caught up, you couldn’t so much as text us.” Her voice is a sigh.

“Um, no.” Lindy’s grin is as big as an Oklahoma cornfield. “But after he drove me back home, I called him. And then we just talked for hours.”

“About what?” Matt scowls. “What could you possibly have to talk about after hanging out?”

Fire dances in Lindy’s eyes. “Lots of things. I could talk to Bo for days and never get bored. Some guys know how to have a conversation with a girl.”

Matt snorts. “Whatever. He probably just wanted your homework answers.”

“Bo finds me interesting, for your information, Matt Sparks.” Lindy gives her best friend her shoulder. “Not that it’s any of your business.” She turns her excited face back to me. “We’re going to run together tonight.”

“How romantic.” Running. That’s right up there with watching documentaries or double-dating with your parents. All definite dating
no’s
in my book.

“I don’t know about him, Lindy,” Matt says. “You should really be on your guard.”

“Why?” Lindy barks. “He’s on the honor roll. He took us to state in track last year. He plays the guitar in his church. Um, which part of that do you find so shady? Because I must be too caught up in it all to see it.”

I watch in fascination as Matt sputters for an answer. He is so jealous. This is perfect. I wonder if
he
even realizes it.

“Forget it. Have a nice
run
.” Matt grabs his backpack and storms toward the double doors.

“Is anyone thinking what I’m thinking?” Ruthie asks, her voice giddy.

My eyes dart to Lindy. “That Matt Sparks is jealous?”

Ruthie frowns. “No, dudes. It’s meatloaf day in the caf.”

Luke completely ignores me in journalism. Which would be just fine except instead of harassing me, he’s giving all his attention to Ashley Timmons.

The man stealer leans over his computer and laughs. “Oh, Luke. You’re so funny!”

Behind my computer monitor, I mimic her girly giggles.

The girl tosses her angelic blonde hair and moves in closer. “You’re so smart. That’s exactly what my article needed. Thank you!”

Thank you! You’re so smart! Ughhh
. It’s like I need to start taking antinausea medicine before I come to class now.

“Ashley, you’re a great writer,” Luke says. “You just have a few skills that need some polishing.”

“Ohhh.” I swear I see her bat her lashes. “Would you work with me? I’d love to get some tips for improving. Your articles are always so perfect.”

Luke laughs. “Well, not perfect.”

“No.” Her hand lands on his bicep. “They totally are.”

I’m out of my seat before my brain has time to register my legs have moved. “For the good of the rest of the staff, could you guys please keep it down?”

Ashley sits up straighter. “We’re just working here.”

“Really?” I throw her a pert smile. “Is that what you call it?”

“Luke and I were simply talking. He was about to help me with some weak areas.”

It’s everything I can do not to blast her with a retort on her weak areas. “I need Luke to look over my article, so maybe this one-on-one tutoring could happen later?”

Ashley opens her glossy mouth, but Luke stops her. “It’s okay, Ashley. I’ll check your copy and prioritize the areas you need to focus on.”

I don’t miss her look of venom as she saunters back to her work station.

Luke turns the full force of his stormy gaze on me. “Don’t you
ever
do that again.”

“What? Stop you before you drooled in front of your entire staff?”

He takes a step closer. “Don’t ever disrespect me when I’m working with a staff member.”

“Since when does flirting fall under the category of work?”

Luke breathes out his nose. “I’m the editor, Bella. And helping my staff improve their writing is what I do. I was not flirting.”

I can’t stop my laugh. “Whatever.”

“Why don’t we take this outside?”

“Let’s.”

I follow him out into the hall where he takes off his glasses and looks down his nose. “I don’t bring our personal life into the paper, so I expect you to be professional enough to do the same.”

I point between us. “
We
have no personal life, if you remember.”

“How could I forget?”

“You’re hanging out with her.” The words sound pitiful to my ear. Too late to take them back.

“I’m hanging out with her
and
her brother.” He sighs through his nose. “Ashley hasn’t had time to get reacquainted with anyone yet. I’m strictly being a friend.”

“Her methods of getting reacquainted are quite original. Aggressive even.” I have got to let this go. I’m annoying myself.

“Obviously you don’t have enough to do on the paper, so why don’t you copyedit everyone’s work for the next week?”

“So I hit a nerve, and to punish me, you’re going to put me on grammar duty?”

He shrugs. “One of the joys of being in charge.”

“That and flirting with your reporters?”

His head dips low as he plants one hand on the wall over my head. “You are so jealous.”

“Nuhuh.” That sounded more mature in my head.

“You know what I think this is all about?”

“That Barbie doll three computers away from me?”

He slowly shakes his head. “It’s about the fact that you miss me.”

I gaze into his clear blue eyes. “You’re right. I do miss you, Luke.” I watch his arrogant mouth curve. “Like cramps.”

“Still running scared.” He pushes off the wall. “That’s too bad.”

“Or maybe I’m just completely over you.” I pat his chest. “It’s a bitter pill to swallow. I understand.”

Luke’s eyes drop to my mouth then slowly trail back up. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to keep it safe, Bella. You do that.” He reaches for the doorknob and glances over his shoulder. “But keep your insecurities out of my paper and don’t ever attack one of my staff members again.” He winks. “Oh, and better brush up on your commas.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.” I stare into a mirror at my clown garb. I can hear cars pulling up outside the big top.

“It’s too late now.” Ruthie straightens my big red nose. “The circus is going to start in twenty minutes.”

“This might’ve been my dumbest idea ever.”

She fluffs her rainbow wig. “My dumbest idea was when I tried to ride my bicycle down the slide in my backyard.”

I laugh. “How long ago was that?”

Ruthie rubs her rear. “Yesterday.”

Cherry Fritz pops her head in the door. “You guys ready?”

She looks so beautiful in her makeup and glitzy leotard. And here I am in clown paint, shoes made for a giant, and a wig that looks like it suffered a bad encounter with a lightning bolt.

“All you have to do is go into the crowd and meet and greet the little kids.” She hands each one of us a bucket of suckers. “And Ruthie, don’t throw them like you did when we practiced earlier. We don’t want anyone losing an eye.”

“Personally I think that would be kinda cool.”

At Cherry’s worried look, I try to reassure her. “She’ll be careful. I’ll watch her.”

“Your cue to come out of the crowd is when the clown car starts honking. Remember, all you have to do is run down to the center and open the door.”

“And we act like we’re gonna shut it, but more of those clowns keep coming out.” Ruthie acts like it’s painful to recall her few instructions.

“Right. And that’s it. You’ll be great.” Cherry gives each of us a brief hug. “Dolly’s coming tonight and taking me for a burger afterwards. Maybe you guys could come with us.”

Raw hope brims in her eyes. How could I possibly say no? “Sounds fun.” If I live through tonight and don’t kill myself in these shoes. Or die of mortification.

BOOK: So Over My Head
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