Discipline (6 page)

“So her dream came true then!” Em said
brightly before making a face. “Well. Before… your dad got laid
off,” she added with a grimace.

“Yeah. Though he definitely never had abs.
He and my mom fight a lot about him not going to the gym.”

“Well, that’s a legitimate health thing,” Em
pointed out, ever the gym rat.

“But she’s okay with him smoking.”

Em stuck her lower lip out. “Damn. No wonder
your mom and Ben get along so well. They’re obsessed with
appearances.”

I nodded darkly just as Harry returned to
the bar. “I can’t anymore,” he said. Em and I glanced over at
Kelsey, who was smiling to herself while texting madly.

“Well, whatever you did, you gave her
something to write home about,” Em said, awed as she watched the
speed of Kelsey’s fingers. Harry scratched his head.

“All I did was talk about work.”

“That’s a story to her,” Em said, laughing
when I smacked her on the shoulder. “What? She just needs to get
laid, that’s all. Maybe one of your brothers’ friends hasn’t lost
his virginity yet.”

“Em! Too mean,” I scolded.

“I’m sorry!” She held her hands in the air.
“But I’m telling you, some ass is all she needs to be less clingy.
Then she’ll latch onto
him
instead of
you
.”

“That’s evil,” Harry said, aghast.

“But necessary,” Em replied.

As they went into their usual bickering, I
tried coming to terms with the fact that I’d be going back to
Woodhill by the end of the week. Or earlier. I hadn’t been back for
nearly a year.

“Hey, Kels,” I called out. “When are you
going home for Jake and Shawn’s graduation?”

She pried her eyes from her phone. “When are
we
going home, you mean?”

“Yeah.” Of course.

“Uh, are you being serious right now? I hope
you took off from work because we’re supposed to all go shopping
for dresses for your Mom’s party, and then we have a family dinner
on Thursday night at Dieci.” Kelsey set her phone down on her lap
when I blinked at her with surprise. “Nina, dummy. We have to be in
Woodhill by tomorrow.”

~

Kelsey’s hawk eyes followed a blue Audi
through the glass windows at Doreen’s, the tiny café that every
Woodhiller flocked to for coffee, though it wasn’t particularly
good and especially not for five bucks.

“Kill me. It
is
Logan Foster.” Kelsey
turned from the window dramatically as Logan got out of his
car.

“I don’t have bronzer on.” Paige Bower
patted her cheeks in hopes of bringing color to her face.

Knowing that my friends weren’t home yet,
Kelsey and Paige dragged me out to Doreen’s because “three always
looks better than two.” The place is always crowded and full of
people looking for small talk, but I went. It beat sitting at home
and listening to Mom’s interrogations about Ben. “Are you two in a
fight? You’re fighting, aren’t you? Oh, don’t fight! It’s just
miscommunication if you’re fighting.
Are
you fighting?”

As Kelsey and Paige flip-flopped between
giddiness and mortification, I looked towards the entrance where
Logan was coming through. He still had the floppy surfer hair that
Kelsey used to gush over junior year. It was all coming back to me.
She’d crushed hard on this guy for the whole latter half of high
school. I grinned to myself as I imagined Em in my ear, urging me
to find a Woodhill boy for Kelsey.

“Hey, Logan!” I shocked the girls with my
sudden call across the room.

“What are you
doing
?” Kelsey hissed,
tugging my arm down so I’d stop waving. I did once I realized that
I was pulling an Adriana.

“Sorry! You want to talk to him though,
right?”

“Yes, but I wanted to think of something to
say first,” Kelsey whispered hastily before flashing a sunny smile
up at Logan, who now stood before our table. “
Hi
,
Logan!”

“Hi, Logan,” Paige echoed.

“’Sup.” He nodded at both of them before
turning to me. “Decker,” he said, drawing out my name with a big
grin. “Man, I haven’t seen you in awhile. You look different.”

“Oh. Ha.” I smiled nervously. His tone
seemed flirtatious right off the bat.
Damn it, Logan. This
wasn’t the plan
. I pulled up my tunic so he’d stop staring at
my chest.

“I like your shirt,” he said when he
realized that I’d caught him looking.

“Kelsey made it!” I blurted, a little too
excited about bringing the topic to her. “It took her like, five
minutes.”

“Whoa. Good job, Kels,” Logan said, giving
her a nod. “You must be a good sewer.”

Oh, Logan. He was a stoner of few words, but
Kelsey swooned anyway.

“
Thank you
! I’m studying costume
design. I used to do all the clothes for the plays, I don’t know if
you remember,” she said. When he shrugged, she filled the silence.
“What are you majoring in again?”

“English.”

Really
? Bless his heart, that Logan.
Even Kelsey couldn’t contain her surprise. “Wow! I… didn’t even
know you liked English!”

That sleepy grin spread his lips again and
he nodded at me. “Decker’s fault.”

Kelsey’s bright smile became a death look in
record speed. She directed it at me. “How? She’s not even good at
English.”

It wasn’t a lie. I got the occasional C,
which was considered disastrous in Woodhill, especially for a
non-AP class. I looked up at Logan with confusion.

“We had English together. With Cole,” he
reminded me. A shiver instantly rippled my arms at the mention of
Daniel and I glanced at Kelsey to see if she somehow noticed. Nope.
Her eyes were on Logan as he pulled a chair over to sit beside me.
“Remember
Crime and Punishment
?”

Oh Lord. Yes
. I smacked my forehead
in a way that made Kelsey and Paige go, “What? What? What?”

It was embarrassing. I was never
particularly interested in English but I got weirdly into
Crime
and Punishment
senior year. Upon discovering this, Daniel –
Mr. Cole
then – had me lead each discussion because “you’ll
do a better job of waking them up.” Everyone moaned that the book
was torture, but in the end, the average score of the final test
was a whopping ninety-five, about seven points higher than the
usual. Everyone credited my randomly impassioned nerd love, Daniel
included.

“It was cute how you got so into it outta
nowhere,” Logan said. “You used to do this thing whenever someone
said something you liked. You listened really hard and you would
tap your pen on your bottom lip. You did that to me once.”

Never even knew that… it was probably for
every answer involving Razumikhin
.

I never revealed that my interest in that
book was driven solely by my superficial interest in sexual
tension. It was between the main character’s sister, Dunya, and his
best friend, Razumikhin, whom I imagined to be devastatingly
handsome in a lumberjack chic kind of way. Chris Evans came to mind
back then. It was all Evans’ fault. Though he didn’t explain why I
stole a ratty, yellowing copy from the school when I could have
just bought a nice one for cheap.

“So, Decker.” Stirring me from my flashback
was Logan’s hand on my bare knee. He squeezed it, totally botching
the pace of his flirtation. “What’s up with you these days, you
dating anyone or do I get to ask you out?”

No, no, no, Logan, please stop
talking
. With immediate guilt, I glanced at Kelsey. Mistake.
She was beet red and ignoring whatever Paige was rapidly whispering
to her.

“I… uh — ”

Kelsey interrupted me with the answer. “She
isn’t dating anyone. She just got dumped,” she said flatly.
Loudly
. “And kicked out. By an old rich guy.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. He processed this.
“Into old guys, huh, Decker?”

I ignored him, too busy shooting Kelsey a
look before scanning the room with wild eyes to see if anyone
heard. They would immediately tell a friend who would tell a friend
who would ask my mother for confirmation and I’d get a wailing
phone call within minutes. She’d probably suggest that we both
drive to the city and talk to Ben together.
God
.

To my huge relief, no one seemed to be
paying attention. I breathed. “Jesus, Kels, you know I haven’t told
my mom yet about – ”

I turned back to her but she was gone.
Great
. She was prone to tantrums but never the
storming-out-of-a-restaurant type. Paige shot an accusing glare
before leaving herself.

“They looked pissed,” Logan said, ever the
observant one. Despite heaving a big sigh, I laughed. But when he
opened his mouth again, there was no more comic relief. “You know
what?” He squinted. “I remember hearing about your boyfriend. My
sister said you were with one of the richest guys in the city.
That’s what my mom told her, at least, and she was like, ‘Why can’t
I have a sugar daddy?’” he mimicked her in falsetto, laughing at
his own impression. “I said it was ‘cause she didn’t have your ass.
Because she doesn’t. Not that I look. But yeah, if your boyfriend
really had courtside Knicks tickets, sucks that he dumped you.”

Absolutely unreal. Even Logan Foster knew
about Ben. I stared at him in silence.

“Yeah.” My awed nodding finally came to a
stop. “Anyway, it was nice seeing you,” I said hastily before
standing up and getting the hell out.

CHAPTER 4

The sun was beating fiercely on the day of
Jake’s graduation. All around the football field, graduates were
shedding their gowns and fanning themselves with their caps. I was
glad to be wearing something short, thin and sleeveless myself –
for both weather and Daniel reasons alike. The wrap dress being
tight and tan was probably more a Daniel reason. My need to see him
again had only increased since coming home, partly because of Logan
Foster.

Albeit irritating, my run-in with him had
brought back memories of Daniel that I’d somehow forgotten. Which
was crazy, because he was Mr. Cole and girls don’t just forget
their Mr. Cole stories. But maybe I’d purged too many Woodhill
memories after moving to New York.

Whatever it was that happened to them, Logan
Foster brought them back by mentioning that book. And standing on
the football field, spotting Daniel from afar looking insanely
handsome with the sun in his eyes, I remembered a specific moment
my senior year.

“Is that… a lesson plan?”

That was the first sentence I recalled from
the conversation. I had been the last person to leave the room
after leading another class about
Crime and Punishment
. I
didn’t realize it until looking up and seeing Mr. Cole leaning over
my desk, his hands in his pockets.

“Erm… no?” Blushing, I’d snatched the
stapled, three-paged packet off my desk to stuff into my tote bag,
probably cursing myself for being dorky enough to type and print a
lesson plan for a class I didn’t actually teach.

“Can I see it, please?” Mr. Cole asked,
laughing at me lightly. With one hand still in his pocket, he
stretched the other out toward me. That gesture alone got my
heartbeat up. Probably because the sleeve of his shirt had been
pushed up. Even then I had a thing for his stupid forearms. I’m
sure they were the reason I caved and handed the packet over.

As he flipped through it, I watched him
intently, waiting for him to shake his head or correct me on
something. He didn’t. But he did peek up at me, look back down,
smile and then back away a few steps.

“You can’t watch me while I read this,” he
said.

“Why not?”

He was unintentionally sexy as he peered up
in the middle of his answer. “Because I make strange faces when I
read something I like.” I’m sure I laughed something ferociously
girly.

Before leaving, Mr. Cole prepared my late
pass while I leaned against my desk. He’d originally chosen the
surface next to my ass to write, but he moved a desk over after a
few seconds, realizing suddenly that he was eye level with my
backside. He still seemed flustered about that when he stood up to
give me the paper.

It didn’t seem to help that I was in the
midst of gathering my hair into a ponytail for gym. Arms behind my
head, I asked him something or another, all the while struggling to
locate the hair band on my wrist. He opened his mouth to answer but
nothing came out – not until he smiled a bit nervously, lowered his
eyes and then put his hands on my forearms, bringing them down from
behind my head so I couldn’t finish my ponytail.

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile, and
only then was he able to resume his answer.

I still barely understood the moment, but
for Daniel and his strict standards,
that
was considered
inappropriate. Simply touching me was a big deal. Because of the
incidents in the past, Woodhill teachers were wary about ever
touching students. Kelsey theorized that the younger teachers were
even stricter about it. “Notice how the young, hot ones always have
their arms crossed or their hands in their pockets? It’s
strategy
. They know that they’re the easy targets,” she had
said long ago. “They do not touch. Ever.”

Watching Daniel, it seemed he still didn’t.
Surrounded by a bunch of flirty new graduates, he kept his thumbs
hooked on his pockets and his fingers just tucked inside. When the
girls asked for a picture and thrust him in the middle, he put his
hands on their shoulders in a way that made it seem like they were
his guy pals. For some reason, his hyper-professionalism was now
even hotter to me than it was back in school. Probably because I
could say that a week ago, those proper hands had been up my shirt
in public.

Asldkfjsd I want to jump on him
, I
texted Em.

“Is that Ben?” Mom asked, glancing at my
screen. I held it away.

“No? Why would it be Ben?”