Read Believe in Us (Jett #2) Online
Authors: Amy Sparling
After our picnic lunch, Keanna’s mood seems better than it’s ever been. She doesn’t stop smiling or joking around with me. There are still issues I feel like we need to talk about, still a ton of good points I’d like to make to hopefully convince her to stay here and go to school, but I’d promised I wouldn’t so I keep my mouth shut.
I’m pretty sure all of this wanting to move out stuff is something she’s brought upon herself. When Becca and Park say they don’t mind having her live with them, I believe it. They’re good people and they wouldn’t lie about that kind of thing. It makes me wonder if Keanna overheard them saying something that would make her think otherwise.
Anyhow, I don’t want her to quit school and move out. If she did that, she’d probably find a better job, and meet older people and move on without me. Why would she still want to date me if I’m a year younger than she is and still in high school? She’ll probably meet some twenty-something guy with a real career type job and his own house and she’d choose him over me.
An ache grows in my chest and Keanna talks for a few more minutes before she stops and frowns at me. “Are you feeling sick?”
“Nah, I’m fine,” I say, reaching up and tickling her side. She jerks away and holds back a giggle.
“Well, you look weird. Was my story boring you?”
I shake my head and move the plastic trays of food away so I can slide closer to her. “I was just thinking about how much it would suck to lose you.”
She blows a raspberry. “Lame. Why would you think negative thoughts on this super romantic picnic date?”
I shrug and lean back on my elbows. “I don’t know. You’re right, I shouldn’t.”
She lays on her side and snuggles up next to me. I brush the hair out of her face, but it’s just an excuse to cup her chin and bring her in for a kiss.
That kiss leads to making out, and soon Keanna’s hair is all in my face while she lays on top me. I run my hands down her back while we kiss, and I swear the more times we do this, the better we fit together. Our bodies know each other and kissing her feels better than kissing anyone else.
She pulls away and gives me a devilish grin. “You know what I want to do?”
The look she gives me is such a turn on. “Tell me.”
She sits up and tucks her hair behind her ears. “I want to take a ride on your bike again.”
I can’t help but laugh. “And here I thought you wanted some of this,” I say, gesturing to my body.
She shakes her head. “Eh I’ve had enough of you for one day. Will you drive me around some more? It was fun.”
“Of course,” I say, pretending to be all insulted that she doesn’t want to make out. She squeals and then dives on top of me again, giving me one last sweet kiss.
“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” she whispers in my ear before sitting back up and jumping to her feet. “Right now I want to feel the wind in my face.”
I stand up and hand her my helmet. “As you wish.”
Why is it that when things seem to be going right, my brain decides to unleash the fury of its horrible imagination during my sleep? I wake up for the third time tonight, breathless and panicked from another nightmare. It doesn’t even make sense because I’d had such a great time with Jett earlier this evening. Then we both had dinner with Park and Becca and everything was great. So why did I just dream that Jett sat me down on the bottom bleacher in some imaginary high school gymnasium just to humiliate me?
My cheeks burn as the entire dream floats across my mind. Usually waking up from a bad dream makes them go away. This time, it lingers in my memories, playing over and over again.
I asked him what we were doing at a random high school gym and he just told me to wait. He said he had a secret for me. I thought maybe it was another romantic picnic, but then suddenly hundreds of teenagers came bursting in through the doors, marching across the gym floor and sitting in the bleachers on the other side of the room.
Suddenly I was high up, no longer sitting with my feet on the floor but on the top bleacher seat, all by myself. The entire other side of the room was filled with people, scornful faces, mocking grins.
Jett stood in the middle of the floor, now holding a microphone.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He just laughed, evil and maniacal like some evil villain in a movie. “I wanted everyone to see,” he said, spreading his arms out to the crowd. “When I told you that you will never be my girlfriend, that I will never love you, and that you’ll never be good enough to date me, Keanna Byrd.”
Everyone laughed, all of those faces of people I’d never even met. Jett’s normally sexy smile turned evil, angry, as he laughed right along with them until I stood and tried to run away.
Of course, it was a dream, so I didn’t get far. I just woke up in my bed, panting and wanting to cry. Now that I’m fully awake and back in reality, I know the dream was stupid. Jett would never do that to me. Even if he decided he didn’t like me anymore, it’s not like he’d publicly shame me for it, so
why
is my stupid brain giving me these nightmares?
I reach for my phone to see what time it is, and find a new text message from Jett. He sent it at midnight, about an hour he left. I guess I was already asleep so I missed it.
My chest aches as I click on the message, almost worried that I’m still asleep and this is just part of the nightmare.
Jett:
I can’t sleep… miss you too much.
Okay, I’m definitely not still sleeping. I stare at his words until the pain in my heart is gone and I roll back over and tell myself to dream something nice for a change.
*
I wake up in the morning to Becca calling my name. My eyes open and I see her standing in my doorway. “You’re late for work, kiddo!”
“Shit,” I curse, throwing the blankets off me.
Becca chuckles. “You’ll be all right. It’s lock-in day though so get over there as soon as you can, okay? I have bagels in the front office.”
“Cool,” I say, giving her a smile that hopefully makes her forgive me for sleeping past my alarm.
I throw on some shorts and a black T-shirt with The Track’s logo on it and the word STAFF across the back. It’s my favorite work shirt because it makes me feel official. The Track doesn’t make us wear them since the owners are the coolest people on earth, but I’m wearing mine today since it’s lock-in day.
Lock-in day happens every couple of weeks. It’s where about a dozen kids of various age groups (tonight is the junior high age group) will bring their dirt bikes and sleeping bags and spend all day getting riding lessons from Jace and Park. Then we order a bunch of pizza and movies and they all pile into the lounge room and have a sleep over, only to wake up and ride again the next day.
I’ve been registering teenagers all week for this event, and at three hundred dollars per kid, Jace and Park are really raking in the cash. I’ve never given too much thought to what I want to do when I’m older but I think it’d be really cool to own a business.
“What’s up?” Jett says. I jump at the sound of his voice because I was just logging into the computer system and didn’t hear him approach from behind me.
“You scared me, you butt.” I pretend to punch him in the arm.
“Did you know you were humming to yourself?” he says, shifting his feet until he’s standing directly behind me.
“I was not,” I say, typing on the keyboard.
He slides his hands around my waist, pressing his palms flat against my stomach as he rests his chin on my shoulder. I can feel his tight chest muscles on my back and electricity runs up my spine. “Yes you were.”
“I wasn’t humming,” I mutter, trying to log into the computer and ignore the tingling in my belly at the same time.
He chuckles and kisses my neck. Okay, no more ignoring the tingling. “You were, too,” he whispers in my ear. “What were you thinking about?”
I turn, mostly to break his contact from me because I simply can
not
attempt to get any work done if he’s this close to me. Something tells me his parents wouldn’t be too fond of me ignoring the customers because I’m making out with their son on the front counter.
I smile. “Actually, I was thinking about how cool it would be to own my own business. I just don’t know what that would be.”
“I’ll be taking over this place when my dad retires,” Jett says, tapping the counter. “We can run it just like my parents do.”
I put a hand on my hip. “And when will that be?”
He looks up toward the ceiling. “Probably twenty years or so. It’ll be after my professional supercross career is done.”
He catches my eye and reaches for a bagel from the box Becca left for me.
“That’s some long term life planning you got there,” I say. I know he’s just talking. It’s not like we can see into the future to see if we’ll stay together that long.
Jett nods and takes a huge bite of his bagel. “I like to think ahead. But if you have another business idea, that’s cool with me. We can do both.”
The door opens, making the little cowbell tied to the handle jingle. “Hi, welcome to The Track,” I say in my welcoming employee voice. “Are you here for the lock-in?”
“I’ll catch you later,” Jett whispers, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before ducking into the back hallway.
The woman approaches the desk, eyeing Jett as he walks away. “Is that Jett Adams?” she asks, turning toward me. Her extra sleek brown ponytail swishes behind her. Next to her is a young boy carrying a sleeping bag and a huge motocross gear bag in his arms.
“Yes. He’ll be helping with the seventh graders today and the eighth graders tomorrow.”
She gives a curt nod. “And you are . . ?”
“Keanna,” I say, but it comes out sounding like a question.
“But you are . . .” The look she gives me makes my insides twist into knots.
“Jett’s girlfriend,” I say, and again, it also sounds like a question. I straighten my shoulders. This lady is way too old to be crushing on Jett so I don’t know why I’m letting her intimidate me. “I’m his girlfriend. But I also work here and I’d be happy to get you signed in.”
“Oh wow, well my daughter will be very displeased with that news,” the woman says. She makes this noise with her throat that could be considered a chuckle, I guess. “She is convinced she’ll be marrying the boy one day.”
She hands me her registration info and I sign in her son, not really knowing what to say to that. Every teenage girl seems to have a crush on Jett, so it doesn’t really matter.
“Well, I guess there’s always plenty of time for her to get her chance,” the woman says.
“You can take your stuff right down this hallway and to the left,” I say, using my friendly employee voice. I will not let this bitch get to me. “There’s signs on the wall directing you where to go. Please have a great time!”
It takes several deep breaths to feel back to normal after the woman drops off her son and leaves. Other kids start showing up and I sign them all in and luckily there’s no more incidents like the first one.
I’m reaching for my second bagel when the door opens and I drop it back in the box. Eating in front of customers is rude, and I’m still trying to impress my bosses every chance I get.
D’andre walks in, drinking from one of those massive convenient store soda cups. I relax and reach for the bagel again.
“Good morning,” I say, spreading some cream cheese on the bagel. “You’re here early.”
D’andre is one of Jett’s best friends and he also rides motocross. He leans across the front counter, resting on his elbows. “Tell me about it,” he says, drinking more of his soda. “I’m hoping this caffeine will wake me up. Homeboy made me get here early today to help him wrangle the kids.”
I laugh. “Isn’t that Park and Jace’s job?”
He shrugs. “Technically, but Mr. Adams is paying me a hundred bucks under the table just to help out with lunch. Not bad.”
I nod. “Want a bagel?” I slide the box over to him and he takes one. “Jett’s already back there in the lounge if you want to go find him.
“I actually wanted to talk to you for a minute,” D’andre says.
Panic latches onto my ankles. I worried about the day that Jett’s friends would question our relationship, or bring up the fact that I don’t deserve to be with their friend. “What’s going on? I ask, my voice dry.
His teeth dig into his bottom lip. “Okay so, there’s this girl,” he says. I lift an eyebrow. He takes out his phone and flips through the screen. “Her name is Maya.” He turns the phone to me, showing me a photo of a pretty African American girl wearing a Lawson High School cheerleading uniform.
“She’s pretty,” I say, noticing the bashful way he’s looking at her photo. “What about her?”
“Well, believe it or not, she’s actually been on a couple of dates with me.” He grins and he’s like a little kid, all shy and sweet when he talks about her.
“Aww, you must really like her!” I say, poking him with my plastic cream cheese knife.
“I do. And she is
so
out of my league here.” He swallows and shakes his head. “So anyway, she seems to like me and I’m trying not to blow it. She doesn’t know anything about motocross but she thinks it’s cool so maybe you could help me out?”
“I’d be happy to date your pretty friend,” I say, winking.
He laughs. “Oh
ha-ha
. I’m thinking we could go on a double date and meet at the track. Maybe you can help me convince her that I’m worth her time?”
“Sure,” I say, giving him a warm smile. “I’d love to.”
He points at me. “I knew you were a cool chick,” he says, taking another bite of his bagel.
I snort. “Psh. Duh.”
*
When my shift is over at five, I clock out and then begin shutting down the computer system. Jett wants me to hang out with him all night while he’s wrangling the kiddos. We ordered pizza for lunch and now for dinner, we’re having toasted sandwiches from this delicious shop in town. I can hear all of the excited voices filtering in from the lounge as I go through my closing the shop routine. It’ll be fun to be a chaperone with Jett tonight. It’ll feel like I’m finally the adult in a situation where I’ve always been the kid. Plus, in a way, it’s like I’m experiencing all the fun stuff that normal kids experience. I can’t imagine Dawn ever paying money for me to go somewhere fun like this.
Becca and Park walk in from the back hallway. Becca twists her wedding ring around her finger.
“Hey, kid,” Park says. He pats my back as he walks by. “Good day at work?”
I nod. “Is everything okay?” They both look like they want to tell me something, like maybe they need me to stay late and work tonight. “I was just about to go help out Jett,” I say, gesturing toward the hallway.
“Could you wait on that for a minute?” Becca says. “We’d like to talk to you.”
My blood turns to ice. No. Not now. This can’t happen now.
I look from her to Park and back. Their expressions are serious, but not exactly what I’d expect if they were going to kick me out.