Breaking Rules (6 page)

Gabe
’s grin widened into a full-blown smile, and his hand landed with a thud on Fletcher’s shoulder.

“Genius,” he said.
“Bringing awareness and togetherness to the community. Perfect.” Dropping his hand from Fletcher, Gabe turned to me and thumped my arm. “Isn’t that a
perfect
idea, Mandy?”

Four

“Remember back at the diner when I defended Raddick?” I yelled, stomping through the front door that evening. I threw my purse in the corner and didn’t wait for a response. “Well, undo it! Call him whatever you’d like, Bailey. The guy’s a j
erk. And not your everyday, pain-in-the-butt kind, either. He’s a full-fledged, colossal, jerk wad and the bane of my existence!” I kicked both of my shoes in the corner and muttered, “Should’ve just run the creep over when I had the chance.”

“What’s that, Mandy?” Dad asked, poking his head out of the kitchen.

“Oh,” I said, widening my stare. I looked down at my feet, trying to think of a way to take back what he’d just heard. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“W
ho’s the full-fledged, colossal, jerk wad?” he asked, stepping out. He leaned in the door frame between the kitchen and the living room, and he folded his thick arms at his chest.

“
It’s nothing.”

“
The scowl on your face says otherwise,” he said, studying me with a keen eye. “Did something happen at school?”

“
Nope.” I tried to brush past him, but he grabbed my arm and stopped me. I dropped my shoulders. “What?”

“
What’s going on?”

“
Nothing
.
” I shook his hand off of my arm. “Let it go.”

I knew he wouldn’t understand even if I tried to explain.

Gabe and I had gotten off on the wrong foot, to say the least. Maybe if I hadn’t hit him with my car, threatened him off of school property, and treated him like complete dirt, things might go a little differently. But now, after only one day under my belt and six weeks to go until the end, I had a hard time believing things were going to get much better. If anything, the sharp pain in my gut had me feeling that things were only going to get much, much worse.

Dad tilted his chiseled chin upward and slanted a look down at me. I
’d seen him look at so many people that way in the past, and I knew what he was trying to pull; it was his look of forced compassion, the one that was supposed to make everyone feel like he was on their side. He’d been working on that one ever since he decided to run for local office.

As much as I
admired his enthusiasm, it was only fair to admit that Dad’s job as mayor was really something of a giant question mark. Bailey and I had always known that he was a bit of a fame whore and loved attention. He wasn’t the most political or decisive person, and he was just a little too aloof to be trusted with any kind of authority. That was only the tip of the iceberg. There were a dozen other reasons we questioned it, but none more bothersome than the fact that he’d never, ever showed any indication that he was headed for politics. In fact, he’d spent most of our childhood telling us elaborate (and probably exaggerated) stories of his days as a soap opera star, and there wasn’t a story he’d wrapped up without saying ‘and when I go back into television...’

It
’d been two years since he’d first taken office, and he was killing it; the town loved him, the camera loved him, and we… well, Bailey and I tolerated him most of the time. But neither of us trusted him as much as the credulous townspeople of Sugar Creek. We stopped putting our faith into him a long time ago.

I moved down the hall, hoping to avoid another question about my first day at RI
. I stopped off at Bailey’s door and knocked, but she didn’t answer.

“She’s out with Jones,” Dad called behind me, so I just kept moving.

“Perfect,” I muttered, and then I kept walking for my room. Once I closed the door, putting an extra barrier between me and my nosey father, I sat on my bed and pulled my laptop over from my desk.

Aft
er a few minutes of messing around, I clicked over to my e-mail to find only one new message, one from my senior editor at the school newspaper. The subject read: new story, and I knew it must’ve been urgent. Georgia rarely bothered the writers outside of school, and when she took the time to write us on a weekend, you could almost always bet it was something of dire importance.

Mandy,
We’re running a piece on next Monday’s front page about the RI competition, and we want to include an interview with Gabriel Raddick. Since you’re working with the program, you’re the only writer on staff who’s got the inside scoop. I’ve got Santiago on pictures. A short article will suffice; it doesn’t have to be much, just enough to get some quotes. Try to get this back to me by Friday morning.
-Georgia

I groaned and shut the laptop, too frustrated to even mess with it for another second. As if working side-by-side with the man over the next six weeks wasn
’t enough, now I had to interview him for the
Sugar Creek High Herald
? Perfect.

Two knocks came from my door, and Dad poked his head in
.

“Mandy,” he said, stepping
in, “why did Darrel Yochum just call and tell me that he saw you parked in the middle of Highway 6 this morning?”

“Say what now?”

“He said that one of my daughters was parked in the middle of a state highway, standing outside her car talking to a man. It couldn’t have been Bailey. She was here with me. That only leaves you, so what? What were you thinking? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? You could’ve gotten hit.”

Yeah, my point exactly.
Standing in the street
could
get you hit. Why was it that my dad understood that, but Gabe didn’t?

“Oh,” I said, searching my brain for an excuse
. Any excuse would do as long as it wasn’t the truth. I just had to think of something that wouldn’t lead to getting my phone, car,
and
driver’s license taken away.

“It was just Gabe,” I said,
clearing my throat. “He’s the president of the RI program, and he was stopped outside the park, and we just…well, we ran into each other.”

“You ran into each other?” he asked, narrowing his gaze, but then his eyes widened and he stood straighter. “Wait a minute. Gabriel Raddick? You were talking to Gabriel Raddick?”

“You know him?”

“
Know him?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to get a lunch scheduled with him for months! His team has been rebuilding the park since May, so he’s always in town, but I can’t seem to get him on the phone for the life of me. Do you think you can talk to him, put in a good word for me?”

Oh, for crying out loud! Why did it seem like everyone in the world had not only heard of the guy, but fawned over his very existence? I didn
’t get it; what was the big deal?

“What do you want with Raddick
, Dad?”

“You’re kidding me, right? He’s a local celebrity, Mandy,” he said, and I scoffed at his answer. If that was true, why hadn’t I heard of him until a few days ago?  “We’re like-minded individuals. People with our kind of power and
influence need to stick together, you know? There’s only a few elite in these small towns, and it makes perfect sense for those few to stick together.”

“You’re trying to buddy up with Gabe?”

“You call him Gabe?” he asked, making a mental note. “He likes to be called Gabe.”

“Dad, don’t be creepy, okay?
You’re not missing out on much by not having Gabe as a friend.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said. “
He’s
the full-fledged, colossal, jerk wad.”

Dad
’s lips rounded into a perfect “O.”

“I would’ve never guessed.
I’ve only heard great things about him.” He shook his head and looked down at his feet. Just when I thought I was in the clear, his head snapped up again. “So, if you two don’t get along, what were you doing in the middle of the street together this morning?”

“I hit him with my car,” I said—like a band aid, quick and painless
. Dad’s eyes widened for a moment. When I kept my face expressionless, he watched me a little closer, trying to read further into my tone. “And you know what? I’m not even sorry. I was, and I was truly concerned that I’d hurt him. But then I changed my mind.”

A small chuckle slipped through his lips, and I watched him closely, trying to figure out which part of that he could’ve found remotely laughable.

“
I hit him with my car
. You’re funny,” he mocked, pointing a finger at me. “You certainly didn’t get that morbid sense of humor from me.”

And then he turned and walked out of my room, shutting the door behind him.

Five

“Mandy, hi!”

I turned when I heard my name, and I immediately saw Lashell tucked in the corner booth at the back of Maurine’s Diner. She motioned for me to join her, but I waved a hand as if to say ‘no thanks.’

“It’s okay,” I said
. “I wouldn’t be great company; I’m just grabbing a quick bite.”

“Nonsense,” she said, standing up. “Get over here
, and sit down.”

I didn’t want to. I really didn’t. I’d made it for years without having to make small talk over meals. I’d grown accustomed to eating alone, and just the thought of sharing a table with another person made me too uncomfortable.
If it wasn’t family, it wasn’t worth it. I never knew what to say or how to act.

I looked around the diner for a moment, and then I finally took a few steps over to her booth.

“How are you doing this morning, sweetheart?” she asked, sliding into the opposite side of the booth as I claimed my seat across from her.

“I’m good,” I said
, nodding uncomfortably. “And I guess… I guess it’s actually a good thing I’m running into you.”

“Oh?”

“I write for the school paper,” I started, taking my jacket off. She perked up as if that little bit of information had impressed her, and for some reason, that made me eager to keep talking. “I need to get ahold of Gabe to see if he’d be interested in doing an interview for an article I’ve been assigned. I wasn’t sure how to contact him, so I thought maybe you could call him for me, or maybe shoot him an e-mail?”

“Or you could just ask him yourself,” she said, nodding
at the door. “I was just waiting on him when you came in.”

“Oh, he’s here?” I asked, and then I found myself scooting out of the seat. “Then I won’t bother you. Have your breakfast, and I’ll just catch up with him later.”

“Ladies,” Gabe said, stopping me before I could stand. He stood at the side of the booth and stared between us, but I did my best not to make direct eye contact. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Gabe,” Lashell said, leaning into his light peck on the cheek.

“Mandy,” he said, leaning over to catch my gaze. “Good morning.”

If it hadn
’t been for the distinct quality of his voice, I wouldn’t have known it was him. At first glance, Gabe didn’t look anything like he had the day before. Hovering over me in a blue, RI Staffer shirt and a high-collared jacket, I couldn’t help but study him closer. His face was clean and shaven, smooth enough to touch, and his cheeks were slightly reddened from the cool wind. The dirtied, blond hair that had been smashed beneath a ball cap just yesterday was now styled out of his eyes and off of his forehead. Between the change of clothes, a new hairdo, and a clean shave, Gabriel Raddick didn’t look half-bad…handsome, even.

“So you
prefer the clean-look, then?” Gabe asked, snapping me out of my lingering gaze.

“Oh.” I shook my head, hoping to ward off whatever it was that had kept me staring. “I just… I didn’t recognize you
for a second. You look…different,” I mumbled, and then I snapped a look back to Lashell. “It was nice of you to extend the invitation, but I think I’ll just go so that you guys can—”

“Oh
, no you won’t,” she said quickly. “Just sit there. Have breakfast with us. And for God’s sake, child, scoot over and let the boy sit down.” I looked at the empty seat next to me before turning back to her with a quizzical stare. “Honey, you’re half my size. The two of you would fit much better next to one another. This old maid needs her space. Now scoot. And you,” she said, snapping a finger at Gabe, “sit.”

Taking her order, I moved over, and Gabe dipped down
to slide in the booth next to me. The moment he was within reaching distance, I could smell the lingering scent of coffee on him, and I guessed that he’d already gotten his morning caffeine jolt before coming in for breakfast. Still, when the waitress came by, he ordered another cup.

Care
ful to keep my distance, I managed to slide as far against the window as I could.

“I don’t have rabies,” Gabe said quietly, leaning closer, deliberately brushing his arm against mine just to make me that much more uncomfortable.

“I never said you did.” I pretended to read the menu I’d committed to memory years ago.

I didn’t bother looking up when I felt his stare burn into the side of my face. Part of me wanted to, but I resisted the urge to give into my weaker self. The hormonal teenager half of me just sat tangled in a web of nerves,
wanting to look up and steal a glance at his crooked smile or his blue eyes. But the responsible, budding adult I’d been working to mold myself into…well, she knew better. It didn’t matter how nice he looked, how successful he was, or how much everyone fawned over him. There’d been something between Gabe and me that hadn’t felt right from the start, something I just couldn’t explain. And whatever it was, it was new, and it was unwelcome. I had to ignore it.

“
Would you
please
stop staring at me?”

“I wasn’t staring at you. I was looking past you.” He nodded beyond me.
“Out the window. I was trying to read the sign hanging in the bookstore display.”

“Oh,” I said, turning to look out at
Lexy’s Book Nook. “Yeah, okay.”

“No apology, then?”

“For what?” I asked.

“For
yelling at me,” he said, feigning a look of hurt.

“I didn’t yell at you.
”

“You snapped.”

“Okay, so I snapped.”

“Let me ask you something,” he said, shifting in his seat. “What in the world did I do to make you hate me so much, Amanda Parker?”

“Don’t.” I cringed at the sound of those two words. I shook off an instant image of my estranged mother and shuddered, drawing a closer look from Gabe. “Don’t
ever
call me that.”

“I can’t call you by your name?”

“My name is Mandy, okay? Just Mandy.”

He nodded once, and it almost seemed apologetic. For a few long seconds, Gabe held my stare, and the
playful glint in his eye faded into something sincere. I couldn’t help but watch him then, wondering why he suddenly seemed like a completely different person. Something had changed in that moment, something had shifted. There was something there that I hadn’t expected, and I was at a loss as to what it was. There was a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t tell whether or not it had been sparked by hunger or by Gabe. But either way, I didn’t like the way it made me feel.

“Oh, well, look at the time,” Lashell said, and
our stare broke as both of our heads snapped in her direction. “You know, I forgot that I had somewhere I needed to be this morning?”

“Yeah, with me,” Gabe said. “I made a
thirty minute drive from Desden—”

“I double booked,” she said, faking an apologetic frown. “Surely you understand
—”

“Don’t,” Gabe said, snapping a finger at her as she stood. “Lashell Rowland Dunham, don’t you dare
—”

“Well, it was good seeing both of you,” she said, slinging her purse up on her shoulder. “Gabe, I’ll call you later. And Mandy, I’ll see you
later this week, okay?”

“
Where are you going?” I asked, and I’d never heard my voice so high-pitched. “Lashell? You can’t leave. I thought you were—”

“Bye-bye now,” she said, scurrying away, and
Gabe and I just sat there, open-mouthed and stunned.

“She doesn’t have anywhere else to be, does she?” I asked,
barely moving my lips. He shook his head, looking equally as shocked as I felt by her departure. I hadn’t seen that turn of events, nor was I at all pleased with how quickly I’d been left alone with Gabe. “Well, then, I guess we should go.”

“Or we could have breakfast,” he said, lifting the menu. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend—”

“That would be foolish, Mandy,” he said. “We’re both here. We’re both hungry. We might as well.”

“
This wasn’t planned
,” I said quickly, just so that he’d know. “I wasn’t supposed to meet her here, I didn’t know you were coming, and I had no idea she’d abandon us. I come here every Sunday morning for breakfast. This was just a freak coincidence.”

“I believe you,” he said, looking down at the list of breakfast selections. “So, what’s good?”

“Will you please move across the table?” I asked, ignoring him. I tried to move my arms, but I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. “I’m suffocating over here.”

“Right,” he said, sliding out. He moved over to the seat Lashell had just vacated, and then he started reading again. For a few minutes, I couldn’t see him behind the plastic-covered menu, and I much preferred it that way.

I liked him much better covered in dirt, mud, and looking like death. At least then I could rest assured that I wouldn’t stare.

“So what’s your deal?” he asked, dropping the menu flat on the table.

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Davies tells me you’re a straight-A student.”

“Well, technically, that’s not true,” I said. “I got a C in World History my freshman year, and last year I got a B in Chemistry. But for the most part, I do okay.”

“So you’re a
great
student,” he said. “And you’re on the school’s dance committee, driven enough to participate in a charity competition, and… did I overhear you say you need an interview for the school paper?”

“I wri
te the occasional article, yes.”

“So on paper, you’ve got it all together
. What’s the problem?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have a chip on your shoulder, Mandy,” he said. “Big time.”

“I
do
not
have a chip!”

He half-laughed as if he couldn’t believe that I’d even
thought to argue. “Then what’s with the bad attitude?”

“I don’t have a bad attitude.”

“Well, you certainly don’t have a good one.”

I looked down at the table and pretended to read the menu again for the second time in ten minutes
, but I couldn’t concentrate on the words.

“
You know, you’re not being fair,” I mumbled under my breath. “I didn’t say or do anything to provoke that attack.”

“I’m not attacking you,” he said, sitting a little taller
. “I’m making an observation. I’m inquiring.”

“The thing is, though, I don’t believe
that you are. I think you’re trying to be a jerk.”

“You think a lot, don’t you?”

“I do. I have a mind of my own, and there’s not a thing wrong with that. I don’t get by in life by letting other people think for me. And you know what else, Gabe?  I think we both know that you only like me about as much as I like you.”

“Well, that would be unfortunate if it was true,” he said. “
You don’t like me. I get it.”

“Okay then.”

“But tell me,” he said, folding his hands as he leaned closer. “What exactly did I do to cause the hostility, besides putting a dent on the front of your car?”

“Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“I think you’re arrogant and a little superficial,” I said. “You always think you’re right. Your way is the only way. You’re Mr. Big Shot, and everybody loves you, and I think you thrive on the attention. I think it bothers you
that I didn’t recognize you, and I think that’s why you played along and let me look like an idiot in front of Lashell. You got a good laugh at my expense, and that, I’m sure, only fed into your big, fat, celebrity ego.”

“Fair enough,” he said, but his jaw clenched
. I wondered if maybe he didn’t think it was quite as fair as he’d tried to make it seem.

“And sure,” I said. “I know that I’m
distant, and judgmental, and that I have a chip on my shoulder, okay?”

“And you hate to be challenged,” he added.

“Of course I do!” I said, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “The dance was a good idea, but you were shooting it down. I
hate
being told that I’m wrong when I’m clearly
not
.”

“I wasn’t shooting it down,” he said. “I told you that I agree. I think it is a great idea.”

“
Please
. You were two seconds away from scrapping the idea altogether!” I said, throwing my hands in the air.

“It was a great idea, Mandy,” he said again, reaching forward to lower my arms. He didn’t let his touch linger after settling my hands back on the table. “But it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t enough. You were too close to the idea, too committed to something without accepting room for change. That kind of attitude thwarts success. You have to be open to suggestions, challenges,
and opportunities for growth.”

“Okay,” I said, looking off to the side.
“So what? That’s
my
burden to bear and no one else’s.