Chapter 16
After school that day, Manning and his friends were walking out to their buses when he saw Taylor standing alone beneath a large sycamore tree that graced the front lawn of the building.
“I’ll catch up with you fellas tomorrow,” Manning told his comrades, who’d been laughing uproariously at some joke about a detested science teacher.
“How long will you be grounded?” Yuma Navarro asked Manning.
He made a pained face. “A month.”
“A month?”
“At least.”
His friends’ sympathetic groans followed him as he wove through the noisy crowd of students heading toward the buses along the curb. As he neared Taylor, he saw that she wore headphones and was listening to a Walkman tucked into the front pocket of her camouflage jacket.
When Manning reached her, he tapped her lightly on the shoulder.
She jumped, glancing sharply around. When she saw Manning standing there, her face lit up with one of those smiles that sucker-punched him right in the gut.
Removing her headphones, she said shyly, “Hey, Manning.”
He smiled. “Hey, yourself. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“That’s okay.”
He pointed to her Walkman. “What’re you listening to?”
She blushed. “You’re gonna laugh if I tell you.”
“No, I won’t. Try me.”
She hesitated, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was listening to Ella Fitzgerald.”
“Hey, that’s cool, Tay. My brother likes her, too. You should hear him play ‘Lullaby of Birdland.’ ”
“Ooh, that’s one of my favorite Ella Fitzgerald songs!” Taylor enthused.
“Monty’s, too. My mom says he inherited her father’s love for jazz, which is why Grandpa named Ma’s brother after his favorite jazz musician, Thelonious Monk.”
“Your uncle is named after Thelonious Monk?”
“Yeah. My grandfather heard him play at some jazz club in New York during the forties. Grandpa was so blown away by his music that he insisted on naming his firstborn after him.”
Taylor grinned broadly. “How cool is that?”
Manning chuckled. “My uncle didn’t always think so,” he drawled, glancing back toward the idling school buses. He was relieved to see that his own bus was running late, because he wasn’t ready to part company with Taylor yet. For reasons he couldn’t begin to explain, he’d found himself thinking more about her—and their kiss—than the hot, sweaty sex he’d had with Caitlyn.
That morning in precalculus, he’d sat behind Taylor and playfully tugged on her ponytail when Mr. Langenkamp’s back was turned. Giggling softly, she’d tucked her hair into her hooded sweatshirt, only to have him pluck it free again. They’d kept at this little game until one of their classmates—a snooty senior—rolled her eyes and muttered in disgust, “Stupid freshmen.”
It was all Manning and Taylor could do to keep from bursting into laughter.
“Why aren’t you getting on your bus?” he asked her now.
Taylor beamed. “I’m waiting for my dad to pick me up. He got back from his business trip yesterday, so he’s taking me and my brother ice skating.”
“That sounds like fun.” Manning smiled at her. “Are you a good skater?”
“Sure.” She grinned wryly. “I’m no Dorothy Hamill, but I can make it around the rink without falling on my butt. Hey, why don’t you come with us?”
“Ice skating?” Manning said dubiously.
“Yeah. I told my dad all about you and how you stood up for me, and now he wants to meet you.”
Manning was undeniably flattered. “I’d love to meet your pops, but I can’t go skating with you today.”
“Why not?”
He gave her a pointed look. “I’m grounded, remember?”
“Oh, God, that’s right. How could I forget?” Taylor bit her lip, her eyes filled with fresh guilt. “I’m really sorry for—”
Her apology was interrupted by the sound of her name being called.
Manning and Taylor glanced around to see her friend Janelle—former friend—standing several yards away with the two cheerleaders she’d been with last week when she snubbed Taylor in the hallway. Today Janelle was all sunshine and smiles as she waved at Taylor.
“You’re still coming to my sleepover on Friday, aren’t you?” she called out cheerfully.
“Um, sure,” Taylor called back halfheartedly.
“Awesome!” Janelle smiled harder at Taylor, silently communicating a message that finally prompted Taylor to mutter under her breath, “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot.”
As Manning watched, she dug into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a pink slip of paper, which she reluctantly handed to him.
He gave her a puzzled look. “What’s this?”
Her eyes lowered to the ground. “It’s Janelle’s phone number. She asked me to give it to you.”
Manning arched a brow at her, then glanced over at Janelle. She smiled flirtatiously at him and fluttered her fingers in a wave.
“She wants you to call her,” Taylor mumbled.
“Yeah?” Holding Janelle’s gaze, Manning brought the piece of paper to his nose. It smelled sweet, like bubble gum lip gloss or something just as girly.
As Janelle stared expectantly at him, Manning smiled. As her smile widened in response, he slowly and deliberately balled up the paper in his hand.
Taylor gasped. “Manning!”
He laughed, watching as Janelle’s face reddened with humiliation while her friends burst into hysterical giggles.
As Manning dropped the wad of paper in Taylor’s slack palm, she darted a mortified glance at Janelle, then hissed, “Why’d you do that? You totally embarrassed her, and now she’s gonna uninvite me to her sleepover!”
Manning grinned unabashedly. “Aw, you didn’t wanna go anyway.”
“That’s not the point,” Taylor protested, even as her lips twitched with suppressed laughter. “She’s gonna think I told you something bad about her.”
“Who cares?”
“Manning,” Taylor said in exasperation.
Again he laughed. “Okay, okay. If she says something to you, just tell her she’s not my type.”
“Oh, really?” Taylor gave him a teasing look. “And what is your type, Manning?”
He smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, now that you mention it—”
“Yoo-hoo! Manning!”
Inwardly groaning at yet another interruption, Manning followed the direction of the voice to the designated pickup area of the parking lot. Caitlyn was waving at him from her flashy red Camaro. With the top down, the sun on her face and a gentle breeze blowing through her long hair, she could have been shooting a scene for a movie.
Manning acknowledged her with a smile and a nod, then returned his attention to Taylor.
She raised a brow at him. “Friend of yours?”
He scratched his ear. “Um, well—”
He was interrupted by the sudden blast of a horn. When he looked back at Caitlyn’s car, she smiled and crooked her finger at him. “Come here.”
He felt a quick surge of annoyance. Glancing around, he saw that several other students had turned to stare at him and Caitlyn, their eyes filled with curiosity and speculation.
“Manning.” Caitlyn’s tone had grown impatient. “Come here.”
Before he could respond, Taylor interjected grimly, “You should probably go talk to her.”
Manning looked at Taylor, wondering why he felt the sudden need to apologize. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.” Taylor stepped away from him and slipped on her headphones.
Feeling dismissed—and not liking it one damn bit—Manning turned and stalked over to Caitlyn’s car. By the time he reached her, she had the nerve to look pissed.
As he crouched down beside her door, she demanded, “Were you trying to ignore me?”
Manning scowled. “No. But aren’t you the one who told me you didn’t want anyone at school to know that you went all the way with a freshman?”
She sniffed. “I changed my mind. All my friends think you’re totally hot, so it doesn’t matter how young you are.” She looked him up and down, her hazel eyes gleaming with possessive satisfaction. “Get in.”
“Nah, I’m taking the bus home.”
“No, you’re not. I’m giving you a ride home.”
Manning’s temper flared. “Yo, I’m not your little bitch, alright? Stop telling me what to do.”
Caitlyn’s eyes widened with wounded disbelief. “What’s wrong with you? Do you seriously expect me to believe that you’d rather take the cheese bus home than catch a ride with me?”
Manning clenched his jaw. It did sound crazy.
When he didn’t respond, Caitlyn looked over his shoulder, her lip curling scornfully. “Like, oh my God. Please don’t tell me you’re ditching me for that…that thing.”
“Don’t.”
Caitlyn hesitated at the low, deadly warning in his voice. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t call her that. Her name’s Taylor.”
Caitlyn eyed him incredulously. “You think I give a shit what her name is? Look at her, Manning. She’s, like, a total disaster! Look at her clothes, and those heinous shoes. Where the hell does she shop? At a thrift store for circus freaks?” She cast another disparaging glance at Taylor, then let out a shriek of laughter.
Manning had heard enough.
As he moved to get up, Caitlyn grabbed his arm. “Wait, Manning, don’t go.”
“Yo, I ain’t got time for this petty bullshit,” he snarled.
“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn said contritely. “I didn’t mean to make fun of your little friend. I know you stood up for her because you felt sorry for her, and that was really admirable of you. But, sweetie, no one’s expecting you to become her best friend now. You’ve already done more than enough for her. You’ve made her the envy of practically every girl at school because you chivalrously protected her, and now all the other little nerds look up to her, too.” Caitlyn smirked. “She might even get herself a dweeby boyfriend out of the deal.”
Manning glared at her for a moment. “I have to go. My bus is here.”
Caitlyn glanced across the parking lot, watching as the buses began to depart. “No, it’s not. Ms. Shirley probably has another ‘flat tire.’ ” She made air quotes around the last two words, alluding to the rumor that the bus driver was a closet drunk who was sometimes late because she was hung over. But Manning’s mother had already looked into the rumor and proved that it wasn’t true. After personally meeting with Ms. Shirley—who took care of her elderly father—Mom had urged Manning to speak up for the bus driver whenever possible so that her good name and reputation wouldn’t be ruined by malicious lies.
Not that kids like Caitlyn were interested in the truth.
Caitlyn sighed, gently stroking Manning’s cheek. “I’m so glad I don’t have to ride the cheese bus anymore. And you don’t have to, either, if you play your cards right.”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I can give you a ride every day if you want.” She smiled wickedly. “And not just in my car, either.”
Manning swallowed, feeling his body react to her provocative words. Even though she’d pissed him off, his hormones couldn’t ignore how sexy she looked in her tight pink sweater and micro-miniskirt. No dude in his right mind would turn down what she was offering.
Sensing his weakening resolve, Caitlyn leaned out the car and whispered seductively in his ear, “Let me take you home, baby. My parents are at work, so we can have the house all to ourselves. We can do it anywhere you like, and we can get as loud and freaky as we want.”
Manning shuddered, closing his eyes as his father’s warning echoed through his mind. The girl may be beautiful, but she’s trouble with a capital T….
“I can’t,” Manning mumbled as Caitlyn nibbled his earlobe. “I’m supposed to go straight home.”
“Just call and tell your parents that you have to stay after school to make up work or something, and let them know that I’ll give you a ride home because I have to stay, too.” She took Manning’s hand and slowly guided it between her parted legs. When his fingertips encountered the warm silk of her panties, he jerked free of her grasp and stood up.
“I have to go.”
Caitlyn heaved a sigh, shaking her head in exasperation. “If you’d rather go home and jerk off to relieve that”— His face heated as she pointed to the telltale bulge in his crotch —“it’s your loss.”
“Believe me,” Manning muttered darkly, “I know.”
As he started backing away, Caitlyn called out, “By the way, I tried to sneak up to your room the other night.”
Manning stopped, staring at her. “You did?”
She nodded, smirking. “I didn’t get very far though. When I stepped into the backyard, I could hear your mom and dad getting busy in the Jacuzzi.”
“You were spying on my parents?”
“Not really. I couldn’t see them, but judging by the sounds your mom was making, your dad was definitely handling his business.” Caitlyn grinned, her eyes glinting wickedly as she looked Manning up and down. “Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
He frowned, shaking his head at her. “You’re crazy, you know that? Stay out of my backyard.”
She winked and blew him a kiss.
As she drove off, Manning saw Taylor approaching a blue Pontiac Bonneville that had just pulled up at the end of the row of cars.
“Taylor,” he called, starting toward her.
She glanced up.
Their eyes met and held.
Without a word, Taylor ducked inside the car and slammed the door.
As the Pontiac rolled past, she stared straight ahead.
Manning stood there watching the departing vehicle until his bus arrived.
Then, walking over on leaden legs, he climbed aboard the noisy bus, flopped into an empty seat near the back and stared out the window, glumly wondering when his life had gotten so damn complicated.