Beware of Boys (28 page)

Nodding in appreciation, his smile grew. “That's good, Charly. And it couldn't have come at a better time.” He took her book bag from her, then slung it over his shoulder. “Dang. This is heavy. What'chu got in it?”

“Math,” Charly said. “I got to ace this assignment, so I brought home my book and every book the library would let me check out to make sure I get it right. Because I go to New York so much, I kind of fell behind on the formulas,” she added. She couldn't have him think her anything less than a genius.

Mason nodded. “Good thinking. Knock it out from all angles. Math is the universal language. Did you know that?” he asked, but didn't give her time to answer. “Let's walk,” he said, clearly not letting up. “It must be nice to have your pops send for you a couple times a month. So what'd you do all weekend? Party?”

She kicked pebbles out of her way, wishing they were her lies. She hadn't seen her father since she was five, and it was something that was hard for her to admit, especially since Stormy's dad was still on the scene for birthdays and holidays. The truth was she had no idea where her father was, so she imagined him still living in New York, where she'd last seen him.

“So did you party?” Mason repeated.

Me, party? Yeah, right! My mom partied while I worked a double shift to save for a new phone. Then I sat holed up in the house on some fake punishment.
“Yeah, actually I did. Nothing big though. It was a get-together for my aunt. You know, the one I told you about who's a big shot at the network. Well, she just got promoted, and now she's an even bigger big shot. She's got New York on lock.”

Mason nodded, then slowed his pace as Charly's house came into view. “That's cool, Charly. Real cool. It's nice to finally have a friend I can chop it up with. Ya know, another city person who can relate. Somebody who gets where I'm from. Not too many people around here can keep up with my Brooklyn pace,” he said, referring to the almost-dead town they lived in. Their tiny city was okay for older people, but teens had it bad. They lived in a nine-mile-square radius with only about twenty-five thousand other people. There was only one public high school and one emergency room, which equated to too small and everybody knowing everyone else and their business. Nothing was sacred in Belvidere, Illinois.

Charly took her book bag from Mason. “Trust me, I know. They can't keep up with my Chi-Town pace either. I'm getting out of here ASAP.”

He walked her to her door. “Speaking of ASAP. You still gonna be able to come through with helping me with my English paper this week? I have to hand it in right after break, so I'd really like to get it finished as soon as possible. Don't wanna be off from school for a week and have to work.” He shrugged. “But I know you're pressed with school and getting an A on the math assignment. Plus, with flying back and forth to New York to check your pops, and trying to work at the pet salon, I know you're busy. But I really need you, Charly,” he paused, throwing her a sexy grin that made her insides melt. “I don't even know what a thesis statement is, let alone where one goes in an essay.”

Charly smiled, then purposefully bit her tongue to prevent herself from lying again. She'd forgotten when Mason's paper was due. An essay she would be no better at writing than he would. She sucked in English, but couldn't pass up the opportunity to be close to him. “I gotta work tonight and pretty much all week,” she said. She was finally kinda sorta truthful. She did have to work. Now that she was sixteen, and had snatched up a job at a local greasy spoon—and, hopefully, the pet salon she'd told him she had applied at—it was up to her to make sure that the electric and cable bills were paid, plus she had to pay for her own clothing. “We've been
very
busy at work, for some reason.”

“Okay.” Mason grimaced, then looked past her, apparently deep in thought. He rubbed his chin. “I don't know what I'm going to do now. I gotta pass this class. . . .”

Charly pressed her lips together. She couldn't let him down. It was because of her that he'd waited so long to tackle the paper. She'd told him not to worry, that she had him, that she was something like an A or B English student. Now, it'd seem as if her word was no good, and she couldn't have that.

“Kill the worry, Mason. I'll work it out.”