Confessions of a Heartbreaker (23 page)

Even worse than that?

The very real possibility that this was all some kind of joke. The idea that she was just stringing me along, playing me, has me feeling gut sick. I seriously couldn't be more disgusted with myself. At this point, I just need to get out of here.

When we finally reach the front door, instead of a quick hand shake like I expect, she wraps her slender arms around me, giving me a long hug. "Thanks for everything." Pulling back, she rests her icy cold palm against my cheek. Little does she know that my heart is actually splintering in half because her green, cat-like eyes remind me so very much of Jordan’s. "You're definitely one of the good guys, Parker." Then she smiles. "Maybe someday Jordan will find a nice boy like you."

Yep, total knife through the heart. All she has to do now is twist it around a little bit and the job will be complete.

"Thanks." Needing to escape, I disentangle myself carefully from her. "It was nice to see you again, Mrs. Whitnall."

Her brow scrunches up as a small frown settles across her lips. "Have we met before? I don't remember that." For just a moment she looks as if she's trying to wrack her memory.

Yeah, I definitely need to get out of here. Pronto. "You know what, maybe I was wrong about that. Anyway, it was nice to finally meet you too."

"I'll be sure to let Jordan know that you stopped by. Hopefully she'll feel up to going to school tomorrow."

"Yeah, I hope she feels better soon." Just as I'm about to flee, I turn back towards her one last time. "Mrs. Whitnall? I stopped over here because I needed some help with a problem. But you know what? I just figured it out on my own. So, if you wouldn't mind, don't bother telling Jordan that I stopped by. It wasn't a big deal. I'll catch her when we have our next tutoring session."

She smiles again. "You know, Jordan told me how bright you were. I see that she was right."

I almost start laughing at her words. Yeah, well, unfortunately I'm not nearly bright enough because it turns out that Parker Montgomery has officially been played.

Chapter Nineteen

"Mr. Montgomery, would you please explain to the class why some considered John Steinbeck's novel-
Of Mice and Men
to be controversial?"

Looking suspiciously like a military drill sergeant hell bent on rooting out slackers, Ms. Fisk slowly stalks back and forth at the front of the room as she awaits my answer. Under normal circumstances, that alone would have me straightening in my seat, wracking my brain for an answer (any answer), but my eyes aren't exactly focused on her at the moment. Nope, they've been drawn to Jordan who's been hovering just inside Ms. Fisk's office for the entire class period.

She's been doing her damnedest to capture my attention but I've held firm (and it's not the kind of firm I'm partial too either) in my attempt to ignore her. Now that I'm actually trying to distance myself from her, it's like that chick's got a LoJack or something on me because I just can't seem to shake her no matter how hard I try. And yeah, I've been doing my best to avoid her for the past three days. Which trust me, has been surprisingly more difficult than I originally suspected. And when I say
difficult
what I really mean is
damn near impossible
.

Apparently Jordan has decided to rent space in my head and there's not a freaking thing I can do to evict her.

"Mr. Montgomery?" Ms. Fisk raises one slim brow fractionally as she draws my distracted attention back to her once again. "An answer, if you will."

The class remains so silent that you could literally hear a pin drop. Most likely because a good number of them are catching a little shut eye. I'd actually love to be doing the same thing myself but there's no chance of that happening. Not when I can feel Jordan's eyes all but burning holes in me. I get the feeling that she's waiting for an answer as well because just last week she grilled me on the subject. So, yeah, I'm pretty well versed on this book.

And she knows it.

Okay, so this might be a little immature on my part (or a lot), but I'll be damned if I'm going to give her the satisfaction of answering that question.

"Mr. Montgomery? The class is waiting. And clearly the anticipation is killing them."

I glance around me in curiosity because that statement seems fairly debatable. And just as I suspected- not a single one of them seems to give a crap about my answer. If you want my opinion, I’d have to say that it's the mind-numbing subject matter that's actually inducing their coma-like states.

Not the long awaited anticipation of my answer.

Slouching even lower in my plastic chair, I hold her eyes stonily as I say, "I haven't a clue, Ms. Fisk."

Her brows shoot up in surprise before a deep frown settles across her sharp features. "You don't know the answer?" I suspect that if the woman had a wooden ruler in her hand, she'd actually rap my knuckles with it. Probably more than once. She looks seriously irritated. I haven't incurred this kind of wrath since... well, we all know when.

I'm actually a little embarrassed to admit this, but I kind of hate disappointing the old bat. Normally, well ever since Jordan started tutoring me that is, I've been pretty spot on with my answers during these little Q and A sessions she's so fond of. It's become something of a well-played chess game between the pair of us. She bates me with tough questions and I rather slyly answer every single one of them. Usually with more information than necessary.

Because, yeah, sometimes I just can't help myself. More surprising than that- I actually enjoy it. I know, completely sick and twisted. This is the first time I haven't answered one of her questions. And just a little FYI for all you doubters- I do know the answer. But like I said before, juvenile or not, I refuse to give Jordan the satisfaction.

It's a little spiteful on my part but I don't give a rat's ass at the moment. It's been roughly seventy-two hours (but who's counting?) since my rather enlightening conversation with Jordan's mom and I'm still PO'ed.

And yeah, okay, fine... hurt.

If I'm being totally honest here - my feelings are hurt. And don't go spreading that shit around either because trust me, I'd never live it down. I'm already feeling enough self-loathing for even having such ridiculously girly thoughts. I mean, what's next- am I going to start bawling when I watch chick flicks or asking my teammates if my ass looks supersized in my tight white football pants?

I don't think so.

My gaze finally slides from Ms. Fisk to Jordan. For the first time in three days, I allow myself to hold her gaze. If anything, there's even more confusion churning within those gorgeous greenish-gold eyes. "Nope."

I was kind of hoping that three days would be enough time to dull the pain of the hatchet job that girl did on my heart.

No such luck.

Ms. Fisk looks skeptical but has no other choice than to move on to the next hapless victim, I mean student. And trust me, in this class, there are plenty of those. Hell, I used to be one of them. After about fifteen minutes of what can only be described as something resembling the
Grand Inquisition
, her lips thin (more than usual) before she glances at the glowing red digital clock above the door, "Well, I'm not going to lie, that was a rather disappointing-"

Her hardened gaze lands squarely on me.

"-question and answer session. Against my better judgment, I'm going to give all of you the remainder of this class period to review
Of mice and Men
in the slim hopes that a few of you might actually pass the exam tomorrow." She glares at the class in general before adding, "Those of you who don't pass will have the austere pleasure of seeing me again second semester since this is a required course for graduation."

That happy little footnote is met with a handful of groans. Maybe even a few tears.

And no offense to the people in this class, but good luck with that... I on the other hand, will not be repeating this class come second semester. I'm not even going to dwell on the reason for that... because I've been dwelling on her way too much already.

Dragging my eyes away from Jordan, I crack open my book before staring down at the page. It takes approximately sixty seconds for the words to start swimming before my eyes. I can't focus with the heat of her gaze licking over me. Even though I'm ignoring her, I know she's still watching me.

Damn but I knew from the get go that this girl was going to be trouble. And that precise moment was when she told me that I was nothing more than a walking STD. If I'd been smart (key word-
if
) I would have walked away at that point but I was feeling way too cocky to do that. What I have unfortunately learned from this situation is that I don't know when to walk away. And apparently I'm too damn stupid to run even when every freaking instinct I have is screaming at me to do just that.

But in my defense, there was absolutely no question in my mind that I would score big time by the end of the game. I mean, come on... I've never not gotten a girl when I put my mind to it. Hell, not that I'm bragging or anything (okay so maybe I'm bragging a little), but under normal circumstances, I barely have to lift a finger or any other appendage (wink wink) when it comes to the females. I just smile and well... I'll leave all the juicy details to your imagination.

I kind of miss those days. I'm going to refer to those as
the good old days
. That's when chicks were plentiful and my heart wasn't involved one damn bit. Because I'll be honest with you, engaging in meaningless hook ups was a hell of a lot better than feeling all these God awful...
feelings
(insert shudder).

Yeah, those I can do without.

Honestly, I don't ever remember feeling this crappy. And, on the off chance that I did happen to feel shitty, it certainly wasn't over some chick. That's for damn sure. At this very moment my insides are all twisted up in these strange little knots and I just feel, for lack of a better word...
sad
. And that's not like me. Not at all. I don't
do
sad. So yeah, like I said before, given the choice between feeling like this or banging some faceless chick, I'd definitely pick door number two.

For the first time in my life, I'm sailing dangerously close to
Pathetic Island
. And I'm not seeing any viable way to avoid becoming shipwrecked there indefinitely. Well, at least I'll have Max for company. That's something, right?

Hmmm, maybe not...

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Jordan. I wish she would just take a hint and leave me the hell alone.

Feeling her eyes cling to me is driving me bat shit crazy. Even if I wanted to focus on this book, I couldn't with the heat of those greenish gold eyes boring into me. And we all know that, no offense to John Steinbeck or anything, this isn't exactly my taste in fine literature. So the odds of me getting into this book were clearly stacked against me from the get go. My idea of captivating writing leans more towards
Sports Illustrated
(hello swimsuit issue) and a few other beloved publications that shall remain nameless but continue to hold a very dear place in my heart. Did I already mention the always highly anticipated SI swimsuit edition? Enough said.

Squirming in my chair, I realize there's absolutely no way in hell I can deal with this one single moment longer. I need to cut out of here before I do something pathetically stupid like, oh, I don't know- jump out of my seat, pull that girl into my arms, and kiss her freaking senseless until she gives me a legitimate explanation for leaving me to twist in the proverbial wind.

My hand shoots up into the air.

"Mr. Montgomery? Dare I hope you're finally going to enlighten this class with an answer to the previously posed question regarding the controversy over
Of Mice and Men
?"

"Not unless the answer is- can I be excused to go to the bathroom?"

And with that, she deflates right before my very eyes before muttering rather flatly, "Take a hall pass, Mr. Montgomery."

"For sure." Sliding quickly out of my seat, I grab a pale blue slip of paper off her desk before hightailing it out of the room. Fifteen minutes. That's how long I plan to roam the halls because I sure as shit am not going back to that class and Jordan's soulful eyes.

I'm just about to round a corner when I hear someone behind me.

Everything within me tightens because I'm not ready to face her yet. As much as she screwed me over there's still something drawing me to her. Kind of like a fly to a Venus flytrap. And the fact that she's still able to affect me when I don't want her to pisses me off to no end.

"Parker, wait, I want to talk with you-"

Grabbing my arm, she turns me towards her. That same confused look is filling her eyes and yeah, it claws at my insides. My mind unwillingly tumbles back to Saturday night and just how perfectly she fit within my arms. How perfectly she seemed to fit into my life...

Guess the joke was on me.

Before she's able to say a single word, I jerk my arm out of her grasp.