T is for...he's a TOTAL jerk (Grover Beach Team #3) (12 page)

“No! Damn. Please.
Wait!
” The words shot out at random from my mouth and I covered my wound as soon as he let go of the wood in my flesh. “Maybe…I don’t know. Perhaps we should just wait until…until it falls out by itself?” My voice was whiny. Way too desperate.

James Hunter had mercy on me and didn’t push me to let him butcher my leg.

Tony sat down next to me and leaned closer to my ear. “Get your shit together, Summers. This will be over in a second. And you know as well as I do that this fucking splinter won’t
fall out
.” He leaned back so I could see his smirk. “If you like, you can feel my muscles for distraction again. Or I can feel yours.” He didn’t hesitate to squeeze my upper arm. “Ah, no muscles there,” he announced with a playful pout. “You’re weak. Just like I expected.”

I shoved him hard from the metal table. “That’ll teach you to call me weak,” I scolded him with a smile.

“Right. You’re the strongest out of the seven dwarfs.” He rubbed his chest as though I had done serious damage, and this time his teasing about my height didn’t bother me at all. It was clear that he was winding me up for a reason. While my thoughts had gone astray, Mr. Hunter had seized the opportunity to catch the splinter again and was ready to pull it out.

I shook my head at him, fighting against an upraising panic. “I know Tony is trying to distract me, because you think I won’t feel the pain then. But this won’t work. I
will
feel it. And it
will
hurt…Can’t you just give me one of those shots for dogs or cows to numb my leg?” I whined.

Tony lifted his brows in a dubious way.
“For cows? Seriously, Summers? That will knock you out for days.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“And why do you think my distracting won’t work? I think I’m pretty good at it.”

I felt the doctor’s hand squeeze my calf tighter to hold me in place, but I had to answer Tony before I could tell the doctor to leave my leg alone. “No, you aren’t. In fact, you suck.”

“Really?” He reached for my hand and at the same time grabbed something from Mr. Hunter’s stuff that lay on the metal surface. “So what’s this?” Holding the small aerosol can just a couple of inches away from my skin, he must have triggered it, because in the next instant I felt a weird sensation of ice-cold spray on the back of my hand…and a stinging pain in my shin.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” I shouted at both of them in shock and pulled my hand and leg away.

Tony flashed a fabulous toothpaste commercial grin at me while Mr. Hunter held out a piece of wood the size of a freaking toothpick between the tweezers.

“You—you tricked me!”

“And aren’t you glad we did?” Tony asked, the grin still perfectly in place.

I made a sullen face. But in the end, I was happy the splinter was out, whichever way they had done it. Resting my forehead on my bent knee, I closed my eyes and let out a long breath.

A gentle hand squeezed my shoulder. I thought it was the doc, but a moment later Tony said way close to my face, “Well done, Summers.”

I turned my head and found him sitting opposite me
on the table.

“I didn’t know you were capable of hiding half a tree inside your leg,” he wound me up with a wink.

The splinter was far longer than I’d expected. Of course it would hurt like mad. “Maybe I should keep it as a souvenir. To always remind me of the day that Anthony Mitchell called me a friend and not a plague.” I flashed a mocking smile, but a moment later I flinched back when Mr. Hunter had another go at my wound.

He cleaned it once more before he put a bandage on my leg. “It looks all right to me now, but I want you to change the dressing every evening and then come back to me in three days for another look.”

I nodded. The Hunters were almost neighbors. It shouldn’t be too hard to find my way back here. I shook his hand and told him thanks before I left his practice together with Tony through a different door than we had come in. We walked back to Tony’s car, but when he unlocked the doors, I hesitated to get in.

It was a walk of only five minutes back to my aunt’s house, and I could easily do that now with my leg neatly wrapped up in a bandage. I also didn’t want to be a burden on Tony any longer, even if the morning with him had been astoundingly nice—apart from the pain and all.

A thought crossed my mind. If we really were on the road to become friends, he’d probably insist on giving me a ride home anyway, no matter what I said. Just like back in the woods when he and Ryan hadn’t let me back out of getting my wound tended to. So this could be my ultimate test.

“What’s up?” Tony demanded, disrupting my
thinking, already one foot inside the car and one hand on the steering wheel.

“Nothing.
I think I can walk home from here. It’s not far really.”

Tony gaped at me for a second,
then he turned his head to look down the road and back at me. His forehead creased. “You sure?”

Was I?
“Umm, yes. It’s no big deal.”

“All right.”
He shrugged. “I guess I’ll see you on Monday in AVE then.” He lowered into the driver’s seat, closed the door, and the engine came alive.

I waited for him to roll down the window and prompt me to get into the car so he could drive me home after all. But the window didn’t move. Tony steered away from the curb and the Toyota swiftly became a small red dot as it sped away from me.

“Okay…” I mumbled, staring after him. Obviously, the road of our friendship had ended in front of Hunter’s house.

Shortly before seven o’clock on Saturday morning, I slipped through the front door of my current home. I expected no one to be up just yet, but Pamela was out of bed already, and I joined her in the kitchen to have a cup of tea and toast. When she caught me limping, I told her about the escapade with the river and the splinter in my leg and that I had met James Hunter, the vet.

After her initial worry about my accident, I could tell she was glad to hear that Tony and I had found a basis to move on from, especially after my breakdown yesterday. She caressed my hair. “See, nothing is ever as bad as it looks at first sight.”

I laughed. “Well, the thing with Tony still looked bad after a week.”

“Some guys are just a little slower with opening up. It’s the result that counts. And if he drove you to Jimmy Hunter’s, he seems to be just the boy I remember.”

Yeah, maybe.

We didn’t sit alone for long, because my uncle joined us in his pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt, his hair standing away from his head at crazy angles. I hadn’t seen Uncle Jack like this in…
well, I had
never
seen my uncle this way before. He looked out-of-his-mind tired, and grumpy wrinkles gathered around his eyes.

“Good morning, Sam,” he grumbled, sounding as worn out as he looked.

As he got a mug and poured himself a cup of scalding coffee, I leaned into Pam. “What’s the matter with him?”

“He was up most of the night trying to find his
Constantin,” she replied, whispering like me.

“His what?”

“His Vacheron Constantin. It’s his black wristwatch, and it was really expensive. He took it off yesterday after work, but when he wanted to put it on again after showering, he couldn’t remember where he’d left it.”

Jack sipped from his black coffee, glaring at Pam over the brim of his mug,
then he placed it on the counter and took a seat on one of the black leather bar stools. “I do remember where I put it. On the chest in our bedroom. I told you a hundred times.” He glanced at me. “You haven’t seen it anywhere, have you, Sam?”

Trying to recall if I’d seen the watch my uncle used to wear, I shook my head. Even if I had walked past it, I sure hadn’t paid attention. “Sorry, no. But I can help you look for it. Let me just shower off the stench of smoke and campfire, then we can sweep the house together.”

Pamela appreciated my offer even though Uncle Jack looked at me skeptically. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he was making me feel uncomfortable.

I hobbled to my room, grabbed fresh clothes, and took a welcome, hot shower, taking care of my bandaged leg. By the time I stepped out of the stall, I realized how tired I really was. Some sleep would be great. But
first, I had to help my uncle find his watch, then maybe get a little drawing homework done. Hopefully I could have a nap after lunch—especially if I wanted to be a good sport at Liza’s sleepover tonight.

After toweling my hair dry, I dressed in baggy gray pants and a black sweater. I gathered my clothes together with Tony’s sweater, and dropped them into the laundry chute. He sure wouldn’t want his sweatshirt back stinking like smoke and baked potatoes.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw Cloey shuffling on autopilot down the corridor toward me. She wore her silky pink dressing gown half-open, with her pink nightshirt flashing out underneath. Her hair was disheveled.

And freaking black.

“What the hell—” I stopped dead and stared at her, open mouthed.

Cloey yawned, shoving strands of her newly dyed hair out of her eyes. “Get a grip, Samantha. It’s just a color.” She shoved past me into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

Just a color? My ass. This was
my
hair color. She’d stolen it!

Cloey had always loathed black. She was a natural brunette—before she’d started to dye it blond. She’d hated dark hair all her life.

Rooted to the spot, I scratched my head. Who or what on earth had made her do that?

Don’t
agonize over it, Sam
. It was none of my concern, anyway.

Pushing the thought of my raven-haired cousin out of my mind, I went to find my uncle instead to help him search for his million-dollar watch. I heard him talking to my aunt in their bedroom and joined them. By now, Jack had changed into a pair of black trousers and a gray shirt. He looked presentable again as he pulled open one drawer after another of the chest opposite their bed, rummaging through each of them.

Pam sat at the edge of the king-sized bed and held her head in her hands. “Maybe you just thought you took it off because you do every day? We should start looking for it in the rest of the house.”

Jack insisted he’d put his watch nowhere else than on top of the heavy wooden chest where Pam also kept her jewel case and some pictures of Cloey. We skimmed the room from top to bottom together once more, but when that clearly got us
nowhere, we proceeded into their bathroom, the hallway, the front room, the dining room, and the kitchen. If that Valentin or Constantin watch still was somewhere inside, it must have turned invisible.

We gave up after a couple of hours—Uncle Jack frustrated to the bone and me feeling sorry for my aunt, because he seemed to blame her for not taking enough care when the house had been cleaned yesterday.

I went back to my room and planted myself on the desk chair, ready for some drawing. I had finished most of the projects this week. Only one more to do.

The final drawing should be of
speed. Any kind of speed. It had only taken me a second to come up with a great idea when I had read the instructions on Monday and seen that Tony decided to sketch a rollercoaster, and I couldn’t wait to get started with it. For my speed theme I chose a galloping horse.

I began outlining Lucifer’s strong body, his low-in-line neck, flattened ears, and outstretched legs. But in the end, something seemed wrong. I couldn’t tell exactly what, but I assumed it must be his legs. Using the eraser, I first made subtle changes, then bigger changes, and in the end I ripped the drawing paper from my pad, tossed it aside, and started from scratch.

Throughout the afternoon, I repeated the procedure three times, totally lost in my work. Until suddenly my cell phone went off next to me on the desk and tore me out of my concentration.

“Hey,” I answered it.

“Do you want me to pick you up?” Susan cheered into the speaker.

“What? What time is it?” Oh no. I had totally forgotten about Liza and the sleepover.

“Six fifteen. We’re supposed to show up in fifteen minutes. You don’t sound ready to go.”

“Umm…”

“
Why
don’t you sound ready to go, Sam? You ain’t gonna back out. I won’t let you.” She paused, then continued in a not-so-demanding tone. “Unless your leg’s giving you trouble? Ryan said this morning you had to see the vet. So…do you need a surgery or something?”

What freaky film was running in Susan’s head, oh my God?!

“No, Susan. I definitely don’t need a surgery. I just got caught up with work. I’ll be ready in ten minutes if that’s fine with you.”

“Fantastic. I’ll honk when I get there.” She paused then added with a conspiratorial note to her voice, “I’ll park a little farther down the road. I don’t want to be seen in front of Cloey’s house again. People will start to think I’m friends with her.”

“But you’re friends with me. And I live here, too.”

“Yeah.
Right.” Susan heaved a dramatic sigh. “I suppose I’ll just have to get over that part of me. See you in ten.”

She hung up while I was still laughing about her funny antics.

I left my desk a mess of scrunched paper, pencils, eraser dirt, and a half-empty bottle of mineral water.

A sleepover—
what do people take to it?
I wondered while I packed my pajama shorts and a tank top. I scratched my head and turned on the spot. An additional pair of socks couldn’t hurt. Really thick wool socks, so I wouldn’t get cold feet in Liza’s room. And a blanket?

Crap. This was the first time I’d remembered Pamela’s sleeping bag. I hadn’t had a chance to bring it back home. My first thought was to go back to the campsite and fetch it. But that was a stupid idea. Susan would surely have packed it for me.

I slipped into my boots, slung the backpack over my shoulder, and walked downstairs to say goodbye to Aunt Pamela.

“Have fun, Sammy!” she shouted after me as a loud double-honk sounded outside and I walked out the door.

Mater’s engine was still running when I climbed in, and Susan slowly drove off even before I could close the door. I threw her an incredulous look.

Susan shrugged. “Don’t complain. I halted to let you get in. Is that nothing to you?”

Not staying a second too long in front of my family’s house, I got it. I shook my head, out of comebacks for her lunacy, and buckled up.

As we arrived in the street where also Tony lived, Susan halted in front of the next house, which looked rather identical. But instead of the small pool that I could spot now in Mitchell’s garden, there was a shed in Liza’s. I grabbed my backpack from the backseat,
then hesitated to get out.

“Did you bring my sleeping bag?” I asked Susan in a hopeful tone.

“I don’t have it. I had to carry so much alone this morning that I just couldn’t carry your sleeping bag, too. Tony got it. He said he would swing by later.”

“I thought this was going to be a no-boys area for tonight.”

“It is. But you need something to sleep in, don’t you?” Susan nodded for me to get out of the car. She locked her door and came around to lock mine, too, the ancient way—with the key actually sliding into the lock. “No worries, Sam,” she said then. “I’m sure Tony knows how to behave around you by now. Anyway, I think you two got along pretty well last night. I mean with him lending you his sweater and all.”

And he’d driven me to the vet. “I’m not worried about him.” Not anymore. “I just don’t want to spoil our girls-only time. I’ll go grab it from Tony right now.”

“He isn’t home.”

“How do you know?”

“Soccer training until seven thirty. Chill, Sam. He’ll give it to you when he gets home. And no one will mind.”

All right, if she said so.

We walked up to Liza’s house and Susan entered without bothering to ring the bell. I stopped on the doorstep, uncomfortable, but she grabbed the sleeve of my hoodie and pulled me inside.

“Her parents aren’t home tonight, and Liza said we should just come up to her room. Loosen up. I think recently I’ve hung out more often in this place than in my own room. It’s all cool.”

I climbed the semi-winding stairs after Susan and followed her into a room to the left. Liza, Allie, and Simone were already there and arguing over the first film they wanted to watch tonight.

“Hey, everyone.”
I gave a quick wave toward were they sat on the bed.

Liza jumped up and pulled my backpack from my shoulder. “Give me that and make yourself comfortable.” She placed it on the swivel chair in front of her desk, which was overloaded with books and some other stuff. It could hardly be the place where she did her homework.

I glanced around the rest of the room and found I liked it. Untidy to the core, with clothes tossed over furniture and random items such as a hairbrush, a bottle of OJ, and DVD cases littering the carpeted floor. It looked more like home than any room in my cousin’s house. A chest and wardrobe were placed against the door wall with a hi-fi unit, and another shelf next to the desk held a widescreen TV.

Oh, Nicholas Hoult—on that screen; I was so ready for it.

And I was lucky, Allie and Simone shared my enthusiasm about the film. We all moved together so everyone could sit on the bed while we watched it. We had put on our PJs. Allie, Liza and I were in boy shorts and tank tops, while Susan wore long flannel bottoms and a sweater. Supermodel Simone had to outdo us all with her long silvery satin nightgown.

We’d inhaled three cartons of pizza and Nicholas was about to sling his arms around Teresa Palmer and jump from the building because the zombies had cornered them, when a whistle from outside caught our attention.

“That’s for you, Sam,” Liza said, not taking her eyes off the screen.

Neither did I, and I didn’t understand what she meant anyway. “Huh?”

Liza grabbed the remote for the DVD player and stopped Nicholas and Teresa mid-fall.

No—
no! Don’t stop it. The kiss…
I wanted to see the kiss.
Ugh
.

But it was too late.

“Your sleeping bag has arrived.” Liza got out of bed and walked to the open window, leaning outside. “Hey, guys,” she said, and I could hear her surprise.

“Are you girls all dressed?” came Ryan Hunter’s voice, mischievous as always when he talked to his girlfriend.

“Yes. But you’d better not plan on coming up here.” A rustling sound like a tree in the wind drifted inside and cut Liza short for a moment. “That’s against the rules,” she said next with a playful sharpness and at the same time she backed away from the window. She turned to us. “Sorry, girls. I hope it’s okay with you if the guys come in for a moment?”