Madison's Life Lessons (3 page)

She knelt to retrieve her books and for the millionth time wished she inherited Momma’s classy grace. Socially inept and friendless—unless she counted Mr. Syler her foreign language teacher who praised her talent for tongues—she dreamed of being someone special, someone worthy of someone dreamy like Jack Moore the football star.

In this small, hick town Jack Moore rivaled the fame of the Messiah. An all-around star athlete, he played almost every sport. As the football quarterback, he threw touchdown after touchdown and they won a 6-A Championship. Now with basketball underway, and the high scorer for every game, he touted basket making fame. High-aspirations set on his shoulders and town folks predicted Jack Moore would lead the basketball team to a Championship as well. If he succeeded, he would become a local legend.

Local celebrities don’t wink at graceless fools like you
.
He winked at someone else, someone with more class
, she reminded herself.

No other explanation could account for his wink. It’d been her bad luck to catch his eye when he executed the move. How foolish of her to think he would be interested in her.

“Let me help,” a deep voice said and Madison peeked up, fervently praying Jack Moore didn’t hang around to witness her gawkiness.

Just her luck, he did!

Jack Moore held one of her notebooks toward her. This up close, she noticed his eyes weren’t just a syrupy shade of brown, but sparkled with green and gold flecks. As she took the notebook from him, he gave her a small smile.

“Thank you,” she muttered, growing hot and her belly jittery by his nearness and his direct stare.

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug.

Madison quickly lowered her eyes and stacked books. A nameless shoe kicked one of her books. It struck her heel and, unbalanced, she toppled, sprawling on the floor with all the grace of a newborn foal.

“Watch it!” Jack Moore yelled at the book-bombing-offender as the late bell rang for class.

Great, just great
! She’d be late for Math. If Daddy found out, he’d clobber her.

Like a good southern gentleman, he took her arm and helped her to her feet. “Some people have no manners,” he said by way of apology, as if he could be held responsible for her clumsiness.

Madison fiddled with her hair, a nervous tick she couldn’t control. “MmmHmm, thanks for your help. I gotta get to class.”

“Wait!” He still clutched her arm, so she wasn’t going anywhere fast. She wrapped her hair tighter around her finger and his gaze was drawn to her reaction. He swallowed fast, and his voice cracked on his first syllable. Madison smiled inside, glad he wasn’t as perfect as she originally thought. He cleared his throat and asked, “You wanna skip class and go get a milkshake, Madison?”

He knew her name?!?!

Only if the apocalypse started today would she have been more stunned! Not only did football/basketball star Jack Moore know her name, he wanted to skip school with her? Didn’t that go against every social edict in effect? Not to mention he could be suspended from a game for skipping school? The town would be displeased if that happened.

“With you?” She groaned silently and mentally kicked herself. Couldn’t she have come up with something more intelligent than the obvious?

Jack Moore chuckled. “Yeah, with me, unless you’ve got a jealous boyfriend already.”

He lifted his hand toward her face and then halted as if he thought better of whatever he planned to do. Awkward silence tore between them as he lowered his hand.

“I’m a sophomore.”
More obvious statements, Madison!

He grinned. “Yeah, so?”

“So you’re a senior.” And the last time she checked, seniors didn’t hang out with sophomores. Especially no account sophomores like her.

“Yeah, and?”

“I didn’t think sophomores and seniors socialized.” She pulled her books to her body, a defensive mechanism to protect herself, another nervous tick of hers, more proof she wasn’t socially glib like Momma.

He leaned toward her as if he would impart a grave secret and his voice dropped to a husky tenor, “Who says we can’t break the rules?”

Daddy said she couldn’t break the rules. But Daddy also said she was a sinner and her soul was damned to burn. Sounded like there was no hope for her either way and trying to be good and failing repeatedly grew old.

“My Daddy wouldn’t approve.”

“You always a good girl, Madison?”

Depended upon whom he asked, but she managed to bite her tongue before the words slipped out. Daddy would say she was the whore of Sodom and Gomorrah. Momma thought she was a good girl, but the way Momma said it made it sound unfavorable. Madison didn’t know what to think. She just wanted to escape home and sanctimonious Daddy prison.

“No, not always,” she heard herself say as if she were outside herself listening in, because,
Dear God
, she sounded like Momma! Her voice low and raspy, sultry and provocative, and so unlike herself! So
not
the way a good girl sounded.

His grin deepened. “What’s your favorite flavor?” he asked and plucked her books from her arm, assuming just like that she was ready and willing to skip school with the town celebrity. And as if she was ready and willing to walk on the wild side of life and disobey Daddy. “Strawberry is my favorite.”

“Chocolate,” she said and let him lead her astray, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

Being bad was exciting! Maybe she should feel guilty? She couldn’t dredge up the emotion, especially not when she felt so free.

She liked Jack Moore and not because of his traditional good looks, fabulous body, brown hair and warm brown eyes. Although a jock—which she equated with primitive barbaric cavemen beating their chests—Jack came across as a big ole’ teddy bear; not what she envisioned. It was a good lesson in not judging a book by its cover.

“You know what I can’t figure out is why such a hot girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?” he asked, his eyes eating her up as quickly as he slurped on his milkshake. That look warmed her belly because no one ever looked at her this way.

Except for Micah at church
, her evil inner-self reminded. After three weeks of lost sleep because of him, she refused to think further on
Micah
.

She swallowed and forced her thoughts off the blond church hottie. Contemplating, Jack’s comment and his wide-eyed, eat her up stare, she feared she waded into waters deep enough to drown her. Excitement poured through her at the prospect!

No one in her own age bracket undressed her with their eyes and according to Daddy all the old folks in the church were perverts. She still wasn’t sure she believed him. Lately, she’d begun to think his perception skewed and he needed a new filter.

Ridiculous really for someone as spectacular as Jack to think someone as gawky as her even passably hot. Madison wouldn’t tell him the truth, that no boy had ever shown any interest in her. He might think she fished for compliments.

Either way, she liked the way he stared at her. And she liked that he thought her hot. Inside she preened, but played his comment cool—or hoped she did—with a small smile and casual shrug. “My daddy doesn’t allow me to date,” she said as she slathered a French fry with ketchup.

“Too bad.”

Yeah, too bad, because she thought getting to know Jack Moore would lead to a whole lot of fun.

And a whole lot of
bad
, Madison Wescott
, her sanctimonious inner voice chided.

Madison watched him watch her, his eyes following the fry from the plate to her mouth. She licked ketchup off her finger and his eyes grew shiny with some emotion her naïve mind couldn’t process. Jack reached across the table and took her hand. A hot flush slithered through her body and she stared at his hand laid over hers.

He turned her hand over, palm side up and touched the tips of each fingertip. Tongue-tied, her other palm grew sweaty. Madison couldn’t decide if she liked this new feeling or if it ranked right up there with puking. Micah breached her mind, how flushed and jittery she had grown from his simple touch. Micah’s much simpler than Jack’s, and, yet, her reaction to his way more potent. So potent she couldn’t get him out of her mind even three weeks later.

“Do you think you could talk your daddy into letting me see you again?” He created lazy circles across her palm.

Doubtful
. Instead of answering with the truth, she attempted a casual one-shoulder shrug she’d seen Momma pull off a million times and said, “Maybe it’d be more fun if he doesn’t know about us.”

Oh, good Lord, she would be in a load of trouble when Daddy discovered her sinful behavior. She had no doubt he’d discover her actions.

At least you’ll be guilty of it this time
, the devilish inner-voice murmured.

Jack Moore grinned. He obviously liked being bad too.

He walked her out to his pickup truck. Proving chivalry wasn’t dead he opened the passenger door for her. He halted her by slapping his hand on the doorframe, barring her entrance into the cab. She met his eyes and caught more of that puzzling shiny-eyed glaze. He stared at her mouth for a long time before asking, “Would you object if I kissed you, Madison?”

Not trusting her voice, she shook her head hard. Nerves ripped through her nervous system and she forgot to breathe as she watched his head lower. His mouth struck hers and she stared at him, his eyes closed, and his forehead furrowed as if in deep pain.

His hand dropped from the door and cupped her neck, while his other hand landed on her hip, pulling her closer. She was in danger of her heart ramming out of her chest. She flinched in surprise when his tongue licked her lips and the thumb at her neck, relocated to her chin and tugged downward, parting her mouth.

Madison sucked in a hard shocked breath when his tongue touched hers. She knew about French kissing, she wasn’t that big a dweeb, but she hadn’t expected him to try it on her.

Madison jerked out of Jack Moore’s embrace. Breathing hard, she touched her lips and stared at him.

“I’m sorry if I went too fast.” He released her as if she burst into flames, took a couple of steps away from her and raked a hand through his hair. “You just…enthrall me with your beauty and innocence. The combination is attractive.” No idea what to say, she stared at him mute, with diverse emotions chugging through her. Finally, he cleared his throat and asked, “Can I see you again?”

Definitely
!

Time to play coy like Momma, she decided and executed what she hoped came across as one of Momma’s sultry smiles and said, “If you’re lucky.”

Madison stared at herself in the mirror and marveled that she didn’t look any different after her first kiss. She felt different, more mature and a lot wicked. Shouldn’t she look different?

Running the pads of her fingers across her lips, she fantasized that she could still feel Jack Moore’s lips on hers. And the touch of his tongue against hers…odd sensation, but definitely something she thought she could grow to passably like. She liked Jack Moore, so she could learn to like it for him.

A brief knock sounded on her door. As she turned toward it, Momma sashayed into the room. Momma halted a mere foot from her, too much into her personal space. Madison resisted the compulsion to lean away and take back her domain.

“Who were you with today?” Momma demanded, her cheeks rosy as if she’d just entered from a long brisk walk in a deep freeze. Their current typical southern October weather still hovered in the low-seventies, so the temperature couldn’t account for her flush.

“W-what?” Dear God, she couldn’t possibly know! Daddy’d kill her if he found out.

“Don’t pretend ignorance with me, honey.” Momma tapped her heavily manicured fingernails against her hips. “Who were you with?”

Unable to formulate a denial or the truth, she stared at Momma, mind-boggled that she could possibly know about Jack Moore.

Momma sniffed and released a frustrated sigh. “You let a no-named, no-account
boy
kiss you.”

Not a question, but a statement that sent Madison’s confusion spiraling into new territory. Madison’s eyes rounded and she whispered, “How’d you find out?”

What she wanted to scream was that Jack Moore was so much more than a ‘no-named, no-account boy’ but feared Momma’s reaction if she did. Horror upon horror compounded upon itself at the likelihood Momma would tell Daddy.

Momma executed a scowl. “He’ll make the boy pay for this transgression.”

Madison launched to her feet and clasped her hands together between her breasts in prayer-like fashion. “Please, Momma, don’t tell Daddy!”

Momma brushed her knuckles across her cheekbone. “Honey, it’s out of my hands.”

“Daddy doesn’t have to know!” she pleaded, humiliated by the desperation she heard in her voice. “I won’t see him again. I swear!” As an afterthought she hurriedly added, “I swear on the Bible!”