Page 12 of Don't Love the Boy Next Door
Mom’s eyes rove over his messy hair. It’s gotten pretty long and he doesn’t bother to do anything about it. “Are you okay, sweetie?” she asks him.
He stifles a yawn. “Yeah, I’m great.” He must realize she doesn’t believe him, and adds, “Was up all night composing a song.”
Mom looks from me to my brother. “What did we decide? That we won’t allow your hobbies to interfere with your schoolwork. Your education comes first, no matter what.”
Eric’s eyes widen. “No, it’s not like that,” he quickly says. “I’m not pushing the band before school.”
She holds his gaze. “I wonder if it’s too much for you to balance the band and the musical.”
“Mom, I’m fine. I swear.”
I want to snort, because he’s definitelynotfine, but I don’t want to mess this up for him. He’s never had an interest in musicals, but he seems really into thisBeauty and the Beastthing. Besides, I won’t let him lose the band. We’ve put too much into it to let it crumble now.
She nods. “All right.” She takes another sip of her coffee. “Have you heard from your father?”
Eric and I shake our heads. He used to call at least once a month. We haven’t heard from him in weeks. I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a dad. But Eric cares. A lot.
Mom spills the remainder of her coffee in the sink, then turns to us. “I’m headed to work now. Any requests for dinner?”
I shrug while Eric shakes his head.
We’re quiet as we finish eating. Then he climbs into his car while I get on my bike.
The image and feeling of Phoenix behind me flash before my eyes. What’s with me? Why can’t I stop thinking about it?
I rev the engine and take off toward school. I try to understand myself, why I keep thinking about her. Then I remember we haven’t started working on our school project. She left my house the other day before we got anything done. If we don’t start soon, I’ll fail history, and that will be the end to my football dreams.
I reach school and enter the building. My head whips around until I find her at her locker, trying to work her combination. The lockers at this school suck. Half of them are broken.
As I make my way over to her—the girls chasing after me as they’ve been doing since the start of school—I hear her muttering under her breath as she tries to pry the thing open.
“Can I help?” I ask.
She lifts her head. “I’ve got it.” She tries again, fails, and curses.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
She glares at me. “More than sure. Why are you even here? Your fans are waiting for you.” She nods toward the group of kids watching us.
I lean against the lockers. “We need to get serious about the project.”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t think you cared that much about school. You know, being this popular quarterback and everything.”
I shrug. “I don’t care about school. Not really. But I’ll be kicked off the team if I fail.”
She finally yanks the locker door open. “And that’s my problem…why?”
I run my hand through my hair. “You want me to beg?”
A smile tickles her lips. “As if that would ever happen.” She slams the locker shut.
“Let’s meet after school. I don’t have football practice today.”
Clutching her books to her chest, she rolls her eyes. “Of course you’re only thinking about yourself. Did it ever occur to you, Mr. Football Jock, that I might have plans?”
I lift a brow. “To game?”
“You didnotjust say that.”
