She frowned. It had been her only choice.
The phone in her back pocket dinged. With an irritated huff, she ignored the tone of the message and replied.
IM FINE. WHEN IS DEBRIEF.
She touched SEND and drew in a deep breath. The bell would ring soon and she didn’t want to be late for class. Gathering her bag from the floor, she checked her phone and made a mental note to be home by 5 p.m. Being late to class was one thing, but being late for a debrief was not worth the drama.
Unlocking the door, she peeked her head out of the stall and crept into the bathroom. She washed her hands and leaned against the basin, studying her weary reflection. She knew her body would soon be fully energized again, but it felt like the older she got the longer it took.
She snorted out a cynical laugh. Seventeen and already worrying about aging? Yeah, she had issues.
The bathroom door banged open. Gemma’s body snapped straight and her gaze dropped to the floor. She could feel the curious glances. No one ever just skimmed over her. She was always studied from a safe distance, never approached. But that was her fault, right? She wasn’t exactly the friendliest girl at St. Augustine High School.
Clearing her throat, she lifted her bag, grabbed her binder, and turned to look directly at the two bug-eyed freshman. They both looked to the ceiling. Gemma rolled her eyes and squeezed past them. What was the point?
The hallway was crowded. The chaotic symphony was rising in a steady crescendo as students loitered near their lockers, expecting the post-lunch bell to ring at any moment.
Dana Monroe and her posse of girls giggled their way past Gemma. She paused to let them go by. Getting noticed by the gossip queens was painful. They had enough rumors on her to start their own paper and she didn’t need another headline.
She waited until their perfect curls and tiny waists were four lockers away before moving into the human traffic and turning the opposite direction. She’d take the long route to English class. Not the best option, but better than the girls turning to see her then bunching their heads together. She hated the way they did that. It’s not like she couldn’t still hear their whispered insults. So she was rude to Dana once, the girl had no idea what she was trying to protect. The only reason the petite brunette even invited her out was because Gemma met her pretty friend criteria and she had an older brother who was smoking hot.
Gemma did not have the luxury of cozying up to a bunch of girls. Girls talked, shared secrets…and there were things she was never allowed to say. Her no-close-friends policy had been working well for the last two-and-a-half years. She hadn’t expected to have absolutely no friends, but be rude to a gossip queen once and your social life was over.
Gemma shook her head. Dana had actually done her a favor. Being alone was easier and she was happy that way. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
Turning the corner, Gemma came across a loud group of fellow juniors who were jostling over some poor freshman’s bag. Intervening for the skinny kid, whose face could be mistaken for a page of Braille, was the right thing to do, but that would illicit unwanted attention and more gossip. Despite this, her steps slowed as she pictured exactly how she could end the torment, taking down each player with swift precision.
I really shouldn’t, but how I can just walk past?
Her indecision was taken away when her hulking brother sauntered around the opposite corner. He was six-foot-three and built like a Mac truck. He spotted the problem and hollered at the boys. Silence descended. Every head turned toward the drama, but none was provided. The bullies scampered like puppies.
With the prospect of Dominic Hart pounding a bunch of juniors no longer an offer, the milling bystanders lost interest and turned back to their conversations.
Collecting the bag that had been thrown sky high, Gemma pulled it back into shape and handed it over. The boy mumbled a quick thank you, shot Dominic an “I want to be just like you when I grow up” smile, and took off down the hall.
“Nice going, loud mouth.”
“Thanks, slim.” He lightly punched her arm then picked up her right hand. Rubbing a thumb over the knuckles, he squeezed her fingers and winked. “Nice work today.”
“See you at five.”
He dropped her hand and walked backwards singing, “I’ll be there.”
Laughter bubbled up Gemma’s throat, but it was cut off by the sight of Harrison Granger. His blonde hair flashed into view as she turned and Gemma’s lips warred between a smile and a frown. Pulling her binder close to her chest, she raised it to cover her mouth and silently watched him.
He was with Darren Kidman as usual. They were laughing about something. Darren slapped Harrison on the shoulder and pushed him into the lockers. Harrison countered with a fake punch to the head that didn’t connect.
His brown eyes were playful. Harrison dropped his bag on the floor and ran a hand through his scruffy waves of hair. He did that a lot.
Darren was shaking his head as Gemma walked past. “That is such crap. You are full of it, Granger.”
Harrison grinned and opened his locker. “I’m not, I swear.”
“I won’t believe it till I see it. You are coming over on Sunday and it’s on. There is no way you can score that high on…”
The bell let out a shrill ring. Gemma missed the name of the game she assumed was to do with Darren’s XBox. There was a reason why that guy didn’t have a girlfriend.
She hadn’t pegged Harrison for the gamer kind, but there was a lot she didn’t know about him. A lot she never would. Forcing herself not to turn back, she let out a disappointed sigh and hurried off to English.
English was delivered in its usual monotone, the discussion questions answered with limited enthusiasm. Gemma sat in the back and took her usual silent observer role. When the bell finally rang, she collected her books and headed to History, her stomach a tight ball of vibrating nerves.
She loved and loathed the subject.
It was by far her favorite class. Mr. Lomax was a cool teacher who was passionate about any era but the present. Unlike most of the student population, he took a liking to Gemma. For once, she was sure it had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with the fact she excelled in History.
“Okay, let’s get started. Now, what were we doing yesterday?” He scratched his receding black curls and flicked through the textbook on his desk. “That’s right!” He clapped his hands together. “Eighteenth Century socialism. Let’s get excited, people. This is a fascinating subject. Now who can tell me… Mr. Granger, hurry up and take your seat, sir.”
“Sorry, Mr. Lomax.”
Harrison grinned and slouched over to his seat. Gemma admired the way his tall, lanky frame folded into the chair. He shuffled back in his seat, exposing a flash of red boxers, then swung around to borrow a pen from the girl behind him.
Harrison’s smile was warm as he said thank you. Gemma glanced away when it brushed over her, her heart skipping three beats.
There sat the reason for hating this class. Fifty-five minutes of pining for someone she could never have equated to the cruelest type of torture.
Gemma flicked open her textbook as commanded and found her place. The text on the page blurred. She bit down hard on her lip. At least tomorrow was Saturday. She could go a whole two days without having to encounter her forbidden fruit. Not that she’d know what to do if he ever did talk to her.
Chapter Two
St. Augustine, Florida - 2011 AD
Harrison Granger knew he shouldn’t be running. Pride should have made him stand his ground and take the pounding, but the situation was so ridiculous, he didn’t think it warranted a black eye.
Ducking around an elderly lady admiring the antique storefront, he threw a glance over his shoulder and swore. Picking up his pace, he wove through a clump of tourists and tried to make it back to the safety of his car.
Jordan Monroe was a frickin’ idiot if he thought Harrison was after Dana. One false move with that
vindictive gossip and the rep he’d been building over the last four months would be terminally tarnished. Not that he needed to be the most popular guy in school or anything; he just didn’t want to be the lone freak again.
Besides, he’d promised himself no more relationships. At the age of seventeen he’d had one that he considered worthwhile and ending it had been painful. Admittedly, he’d been a fourteen-year-old lovesick puppy, but it was enough to swear off girls for the rest of high school. Having a mother with the irritating compulsion to move all the time was hardly conducive to settling in.
It wasn’t his fault that girls kept throwing themselves at him. It’s not like he’d led Dana on; if anything, she was struggling to grasp the meaning of the word “no.”
Harrison paused beside a huge gumball machine and crouched low. When he’d tried to calmly explain his stance to Jordan, the guy’s face had turned beet red and his three gorilla buddies had bunched their fists. Harrison rolled his eyes. This was hardly the way he’d planned to spend his Saturday morning. He’d fled the house in a bid for peace. His stepsister and his mother were in the throes of an all-out war over the state of her bedroom and the four males of the house had wisely retreated.
“Granger! C’mere, you weed.”
His pulse jumped before his feet did. Skirting around a couple with backpacks, he pushed through a bunch of boys and threw himself around the corner. His car was only three blocks away, but if they caught him there he couldn’t guarantee that his prize possession would remain safe during the scuffle. Deciding not to risk it, he turned left down a quiet lane and plowed straight into an unsuspecting girl.
“Sorry, sorry. Oh crap, I’m sorry.” Harrison reached out a hand. The girl ignored his gesture and stood up on her own, brushing the dirt from her jeans. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Her voice was a soft murmur. She collected up the new book and DVD that had flown from her bag, keeping her gaze on the pavement.
Harrison glanced behind him, quickly assessing if he had time to linger. Turning back to the girl, he faced her for one final apology and recognized her.
“Oh hey. Gemma, right? We’re in History together.”
Her smile was fleeting. Flicking her long, glossy ponytail back over her shoulder, she bit the corner of her mouth and nodded. He’d often wondered about her. She was a strange girl, never talked to anyone and always spent her lunchtimes holed up in the library. Her stunning beauty was intimidating. When he’d first noticed her he’d been swiftly warned off by his new friends. According to them she was a total freak, an expert snob, and the meanest girl in school.
“Oh great.” She frowned.
Harrison glanced behind him and swore. Jordan and his buddies were coming around the corner.
Gemma’s green eyes were a mix of curious amusement at his reaction.
“Come on.” He pointed to Camilla’s Closet, a secondhand clothing store. The bell tinkled loudly as they entered. He shone the lady behind the counter a smile and grabbed a couple of things off the nearest rack. Gemma followed him to the change rooms.
Glancing back, he saw Jordan scowling outside the store window then nodding to the others. They branched away, entering stores in what looked like a systematic search. Grabbing a couple more things from the next rack, he led Gemma to the nearest change room and locked the door behind them.
Harrison hung the clothes on the hook and pressed his ear to the door.
“I don’t think they saw us. It won’t take them long to check in here though.”
Gemma was leaning against the wall, studying him with that intense gaze of hers. Her full lips twitched as she pulled the top of her shirt closer together. He smiled, hoping to make her more comfortable.
“So, I take it since you followed me in here that you don’t like running into Jordan Monroe.”
Her lips toyed with a smile. “I can’t afford to.”
He tipped his head and raised his eyebrows.
She let out a short sigh. “He’s always trying to hit on me and it gets really annoying. Before you know it he’s running home to Mommy with a bloody nose and I get a week’s detention.”
“You…you beat up Jordan Monroe?”
Her cheeks turned red and she lowered her gaze. “It’s not that hard if you know what you’re doing.”
“And you do?”
“My father does a little martial arts. He showed me a few moves.” She flicked her hand in an obvious bid for casualness.
“You’ll have to show me sometime. I hate running.”
“It can be the better option. I don’t think less of you for doing it.”
Harrison gave her a slow smile. She jerked her collar together with a frown.
The bell tinkled loudly and Harrison tensed, suddenly aware that their feet were obvious if anyone stooped to look under the change room doors.
“Quick.” He jumped up onto the seat and beckoned Gemma to do the same.
Her hesitation was subtle, but he noticed. He moved aside to give her room to step up. With not much space, he tucked her against the wall and placed his arms either side of her head.
Sure the close proximity was making her uncomfortable, he turned his head and locked his eyes on the door. Her soft breath tickled his chin and he was soon unable to resist. He gazed down at her, struck like he was the first time by her stunning beauty. Her smooth skin was a light cocoa, making her green eyes a powerful contrast. Her petite straight nose and full lips were perfectly proportioned on her long oval face and he didn’t even want to get started on the body that he knew lived beneath her baggy clothing. He’d watched her train. She was a cheetah on the track and there’s no way a girl like that didn’t have a fine figure. Dana’s constant griping from the bleachers had to be out of sheer jealousy.
Heavy footsteps approached the door and they both went still. They waited in breathless silence until they heard a string of curses followed by a sharp command to leave the store. A moment later the bell tinkled, followed by a heavy slam of the door.
Harrison let out his breath and chuckled. He knew he should be jumping from the seat and helping Gemma down, but he didn’t want to move. He was surprised by how much he liked having the school’s freak this close to him.
Gemma’s eyes rose to meet his. “What?”
He kept his smile in place. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to talk to you.”
“Is that a line?”
“No,” he chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.
Her eyes went stormy and she bit her lip. Flustered, she pushed him away and jumped down. She collected her bag and reached for the lock. “I gotta go.”
“No, wait.” He grabbed her hand and froze. His skin was on fire. Looking down at his fingers, he felt warm licks of flame curl up each digit and spread over his hand.
Gemma’s eyes were huge as she jerked away and rubbed her thumb over her fingertips.
“What was that?”
She shook her head with a frown and backed away from him, crashing into the door. With fumbling fingers she undid the lock and burst out, weaving around the clothing racks and shooting out the door.
Harrison leaned against the frame to watch her. He curled his fingers into a fist then flexed them straight. The warm lick of flame was rapidly cooling. His disappointment surprised him.
Harrison reached his car without incident. Jordan and his thugs were either lost in the maze of streets still looking for him or they had given up. A black Ducati bike grabbed his attention as it tore past. Harrison recognized Gemma’s sleek frame. He couldn’t believe the girl owned such a powerful machine. What kind of parent buys their kid something like that?
His definitely wouldn’t.
He ran his hand over the roof of his beloved 1978 Corvette Stingray. He’d found it in an old junkyard and his stepfather, Bryan, had convinced him to go for it. They’d hauled it home to much laughter, making Harrison seriously doubt Bryan’s ability as a mechanic, but piece-by-piece they had worked on it a
nd he now owned a well-tuned classic. Dropping into the driver’s seat, he ran his hands over the wheel and smiled as the engine rumbled to life.
As usual, the drive home was the best part of his day. He hadn’t admitted it to his mother yet, but he loved Florida’s eastern coastline. Driving over the Bridge of Lions, he headed south down the waterfront. The sun-kissed ocean sparkled like diamonds. It was a far cry from the inner cities of Pittsburgh and Atlanta. He could almost forgive his mother for uprooting them yet again. Maybe this time it would be worth it.
He thought of Gemma as he pulled into his street, how in awe he’d been when he’d first seen her. He didn’t want to believe the rumors for a second, but when four or five of his best smiles earned him nothing more than a sharp frown, he decided to give up. But now…
He rubbed his fingertips together. The fire feeling had gone, but not the simmering in his brain. For the first time since he was fourteen, he felt that yearning. His forehead creased with a frown.
Pulling into his driveway, he turned off the engine and gazed up at his house. It was a large, white, two-story box. A smaller, white one-story box sat next to it and was Bryan’s beloved double garage. The house could not be plainer, but it was functional, sunny, and starting to feel like home. They all seemed happy here.
The front door slammed with a vibrating force. An irate Rosie marched down the steps with a garbage sack in each hand. Her blonde bangs flicked back and forth and her lips moved in a torrent of words that weren’t allowed inside the house.
Harrison grinned at his stepsister as he stepped out of the car.
She paused. “Welcome to the tyranny that is this house!”
“I told you not to ask Mom for any favors before ten am, but you just couldn’t wait, could ya?”
“Shut up.”