How to Hook a Bookworm (3 page)

Chapter 3

They never put enough red M&Ms in the bag

“Give me two seconds, and we’ll get running,” Sierra says, flinging her front door open. Whenever I can, I hang out at Sierra’s house because it’s so big in comparison to my shoe box of a trailer. I like my own space, don’t get me wrong, but I like how her kitchen is separated from her living room, and that she has stairs. Reminds me of my old house.

Sierra wraps her shoulder-length brown hair up into a ratty bun on her head and snaps an elastic band on it while she fills her cheeks with air. She looks at the cupboards in her kitchen like they’re giving her a brain teaser.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something for Adam. He needs something, and soup is out I guess.”

She’s so funny. Like he’ll be able to taste anything if his sinuses are jacked up. “I’m sure he’d be cool with a book. Or a word search.”

She snorts at my joke, but I’m not really kidding. Adam loves all those word games. She whips open a drawer that’s loaded with papers, pens, batteries, other junk, and starts digging. Another thing about her I love and hate…she’s determined to make people happy when they feel like crap. I’m cool when it’s anyone but me. Last time I was pissed off about… I don’t even remember…but I told her to leave me alone and let me wallow, damn it. She pouted and ended up crying to Levi about how she just wanted to help, and I’m making it difficult for her to be a “mentor.” The second she left Levi gave me an hour long lecture on respect and yadda yadda. Basically, don’t piss off older brother’s girlfriend. Got it.

But when she gets protective mother-bird over Adam—and Levi—I’m okay with it. Because I’m glad someone’s looking out for them.

The front door creaks open, and Sierra stops dead in her search. She looks over my head and out into the foyer. “Uh… hello?”

It’s quiet for a few seconds. I grab my backpack ready to wield it as a weapon if need be, and Sierra slides a Sharpie out of the drawer. Thank goodness she has me here. What damage is that going to do?

Then a big head of red hair and a bright yellow shirt that says “Keep Calm and Watch Star Wars” leaps into my line of vision. I jolt back, and Sierra screams chucking the Sharpie across the room.

“Guess who?!”

Clutching my chest, I catch the breath knocked out of me and train my heart back to its normal pace while Sierra runs around the kitchen bar and plows into her sister, Zoe, nerd of the year. Self-proclaimed title.

“What are you doing here?” Sierra squeals behind Zoe’s back. I shift a little and sit on one of the bar stools to keep out of the way of the reunion.

“I’m kidnapping you.” They pull back, and I can see both their faces light up with smiles. I can’t help but let that attach warm fuzzies around my heart. I hope things are like that between me and Levi whenever we get to see each other after he moves out. But seeing as we’re not all that close now, I find it unlikely.

“Okay, where are we going?” Sierra asks, her bun already coming loose from jumping up and down.

“We’re getting fabric. My Maid of Honor gets to create
all
the outfits. Because…get this…Zak got the job!”

“Agh!”

They hug again, and I pop my gum for something to do with my mouth. I’m not real good at floating into conversations, even though I was here first. Especially when they involve people I don’t really know. Zoe was Levi’s best friend for a while, but then he started hanging out with Sierra more, and I rarely see Zoe around. And I know two things about Zak. He’s Zoe’s fiancé, and he’s got dark brown hair. Yeah…that pretty much covers my knowledge on the guy.

“So get your stuff together. We’re going shopping. I want you to make authentic Star Wars stuff. But with your own Sierra flair.”

Sierra smiles wide. “Really? No butt ugly robes?”

Zoe gives her a reassuring pat on the head. “Creative freedom is yours.”

“I think this wedding has just improved by a million degrees.”

They laugh again, and I give my gum a really loud pop so Sierra remembers I’m here, and we’re on a mission to make Adam feel better with word puzzles.

“Oh, shoot!” Sierra turns to me, her cheeks starting to fill with air. I roll my eyes and slide off the bar stool.

“I’ll take care of Adam. Spend time with your sister.”

“We’ll drop you off.”

Zoe nods and smiles at me. I try to smile back, but I have a hard time doing that action naturally. I probably look like I ate a sour Warhead.

I snag my backpack up, and Zoe goes off about Zak’s new job—some computer gig. Something Adam could totally do. And I faze out halfway through and keep quiet in the back of Zoe’s car. I can tell Sierra wants to include me in something, because she keeps trying to change the subject, but Zoe wheels it back around to either Zak, her wedding, or the most recent Star Trek movie.

“So, Brea…” Sierra says, cutting off Zoe from diving into another discussion over Picard and Kirk, and who is the best starship captain. “Have you talked to the gorgeous new guy yet?”

My cheeks fill with heat. “Uh…I think I want to talk more about Captain Kirk.”

Zoe laughs, and Sierra leans around her seat to smack my knee. “Come on. I heard him asking Tamara Revis about a Brea. You’re the only one I know.”

I’m pretty sure my heart shorts out as she grins at me. We had like, a two second conversation. How could he be asking anyone about me?

“I just told him how to get to his last class. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Apparently he thinks you’re hot.” She grins. “Did you get his name? Or will he forever be known as ‘new guy?’”

I put my foot on the seat and play with my toe ring, staring at it like it will help me get through this conversation without blushing.

“Jay.”

Sierra turns back around, slouching in her seat. “Jay Garrick. Hmm…I like it. It fits him.”

Zoe pops out a laugh as she turns the car down Adam’s street. “Is he a track runner or something?”

Sierra asks exactly what I’m thinking. “What?”

“Jay Garrick.” She looks at us like we should get it, but both Sierra and I stare blank-faced. Zoe laughs again. “The Flash. Jay Garrick is The Flash. Well… one of them.”

“Who the hell is ‘The Flash?’” Sierra asks, and this time I’m the one laughing with Zoe. I may not be as savvy as Zoe is with the comic book stuff, but I do know who The Flash is. Didn’t know his name, but now that I do, my brain quickly goes to different ways I can use that in conversation with Jay. I mean, if I ever talk to him again.

“Is this it?” Zoe asks as we pull up to a yellow house with a chain link fence around it. I nod and unbuckle my belt. Hopefully Adam is okay with just me for a visit. And I hope I don’t catch anything, but I figure I’m doomed to get sick at some point since he kissed me last night.

Wait…he totally kissed me last night.
I
don’t feel strange about it, but what if he does? What if he’s faking the sick thing because it’s weird?

It’s totally weird now.

Crap.

Crappity crap crap.

“Uh, Brea?” Sierra says, waving a hand in front of my face. I blink out of my daze and unbuckle, fingers suddenly shaking.

“T-thanks for the ride.”

“Sure. If you want, call us and we’ll pick you up too.”

I cock my head at Sierra because I know how she is when she’s shopping. There’s no way I’m staying with Sicky McGee—if he in fact
is
sick—for four hours. She waves me off, and I wait for them to drive around the corner before walking through Adam’s front gate.

My feet stop on the porch, waiting and waiting for I don’t know… Maybe for my brain to talk myself out of its paranoia. Seriously, it’s just my best bud Adam. He’s sick and I came to see if he’s all right and drop off his homework. That’s it.

Then why does my heart feel like it’s about to melt into my stomach?

***

“Wow. You look like hell.”

Adam rolls his head on the pillow to give me a half-assed pissed off grimace, but I’m pretty sure he lacks the energy to make it seem legit.

“I’m kidding,” I say, slamming down on the foot of his bed. He’s
so
not faking. And I’m a horrible person because there’s some sort of relief rolling around inside me that he’s not avoiding me on purpose.
Bad Brea. Your friend is sick!

Adam slides up so he’s leaning against his headboard. Four or five books shift on the bedspread, and two fall to the floor. He sniffs and grabs the box of tissues on his nightstand. “I
feel
like hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if I looked it.”

“Well, I was supposed to bring you something to help…but I kind of got distracted.” I yank my bag up and dig through the pouches. There’s gotta be something in here.

Adam’s lips curl up at the corners as I dump my overstuffed backpack all over his bedspread.

“Ah ha!” My fingers wrap around a yellow M&M bag, and I throw my hand in the air. “Success!”

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to taste them,” he says, voice low and groggy. “Everything tastes like fuzz. Not that I’ve tasted fuzz, but you know when you were a kid and you would blow those white dandelions everywhere, but sometimes you sucked in when you were supposed to blow and it got caught in the back of your throat? Yeah…yeah! That’s what fuzz tastes like.”

Wow. Someone’s doped up.

“How much medicine have you taken?” I ask, ripping open the M&Ms and dumping them near the crease by his leg.

“Not much.” He sniffs and brings his hand up to fix his glasses or scratch his head or something, but gets distracted by his palm. He laughs and waves it in front of his face. “You know, if I wave my hand real fast my life lines look like Neil Patrick Harris.”

I laugh and grab his wrist so he doesn’t smack himself in the face. “Is your dad at work?” I ask, plucking up one of each color M&M and dropping them into his palm. They only put one red in the bag, and I suppress my frown. I’m weird, because I eat them by color, and when I eat red last for some reason my day seems to go a lot better.

“Yep, yep, yep,” he answers. Mr. Silver works graveyard shifts, so we’re used to having the house to ourselves.

I wrap his fingers around the candy and say, “Eat your fuzz. Then it’s nap time.”

He picks up a green one and gives me this ridiculous sly smirk. He’s so cute when he’s loopy. I don’t smile a lot, but I don’t think I’ve stopped since I walked in here. Must be the medicine fumes. Usually Adam smells like roasted almonds, but all I’m sniffing is NyQuil.

“Are you trying to tell me something with this, Brea?” His smirk widens as he waggles his eyebrows and rolls the green M&M between his finger and thumb. “Did you enjoy last night as much as I did?”

I shake my head, ignoring the tingles that shoot through my lips. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what green M&Ms do to people.”

“Um…no. Enlighten me.”

He leans forward, waving me in like he’s about to divulge this huge secret. “Green M&Ms…”

I wait for it, but he backs off to sneeze. Oh man, if I get out of here without catching something it will be one hell of a miracle.

“What was I saying?” he asks after blowing his nose.

“Green M&Ms.”

“Oh!” He leans in again, and for some odd reason, I don’t care that he’s getting germs all over me. I’ve probably caught them already anyway. “Right… that color, is an aphrodisiac. Big time.”

I pop out a laugh so loud I scare him back into his pillows.

“You don’t believe me?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Total myth, Adam. And you’re talking to one of the most superstitious people in the world.”

“It’s true!” he pops the green one in and then tries to give me what I think is supposed to be a seductive smile. But the puffy red nose and droopy tired eyes make me believe he’s about as far away from turned on as a person can be. “Did you also know that’s why the green M&M is a girl? Damn you women. Even the candy version of you is sexy.”

Oh boy. “I think it’s time for you to sleep.”

He kicks his legs out and pouts. “I’m not tired.”

“Close your eyes. I bet you’ll be out in five minutes flat.”

“I want to finish my M&Ms.”

Do all guys turn into such babies when they get sick? I can’t stop laughing at his mood swings and I cross my arms, waiting for him to finish his candy. He takes his sweet time, going for yellow next, brown after that, then blue, then orange. His eyes start to droop.

I reach around him, fluffing his pillow, then I push his shoulders down so he rests damn it. I take special care lifting his glasses from his face, and then set them on his nightstand.

His fingers reach out and flop against my cheek. He gives a half-hearted chuckle. “You’re all blurry.”

“Go to sleep, Adam.”

“Mmmkay.” He closes his eyes with a slight smile on his face. “Thanks for not bringing me soup. That stuff would’ve made me sicker.”