Heartbreaker Hanson (11 page)

CHAPTER 24

I
reluctantly let Rider take me out for a milkshake at this place called,
“Slugger’s.” It’s a fifty’s style restaurant that is popular with the kids from
our high school—and coincidently the only place you can get a
chocolate-banana milkshake.

…
but I soon got the feeling Rider brought me to the restaurant simply because he
likes a girl that works here. Her name is Daisy Turner. She’s a cheerleader at
our school and just as an FYI: she refused to wait on him, though he requested
her to be our waitress multiple times.

“Come
on, Daisy,” he said every time she passed our table.

She
would reply, “Drop dead,” every time, and once she even flipped him off.

He
had only grinned about it, then turned back to me with a sheepish smirk, “She
seems to hate me, huh?”

“Kind
of,” I admitted. But I couldn’t help grinning back at him, since it was quite
OBVIOUS
she hated him. Big time.

His
grin grew, “I don’t get it—I try to be nice to her. She won’t even give
me a chance to talk to her.”

I
smirked, “Well, obviously she already knows about you.”

He
tilted his head. “Okay, go on with that,” he says, sounding more than a little
curious. But of course he has to already know. He
has
to.

I
shrug. “You’re a heartbreaker.” Then I add, “—everyone knows.”

He
quirks his brow. “
I
didn’t
know.”

“Riiight,”
I say as I take another sip of my yummy milkshake.

“Brooke,
I didn’t know,” he says, sounding dead serious. He bites his bottom lip, then
lowers his brow, “Who all thinks this?”

I
shrug again. “Everyone. Well, all the girls. They’ll still date you, but they
go into it knowing ahead of time to hold on to their hearts, because they know
if you get a hold of it, you’ll break it. It’s even written on the schools’ bathroom
walls, ‘If you want your heart broken, give it to Rider Hanson.’ In fact, there
is even a poem written about it up on the third floor’s bathroom wall near the
math wing, something like, ‘If you want your heart broken and treated like a
toy, give it to Rider-Boy.’”

Rider
sits back looking stunned. But then he puts a hand over his heart, and says
around a self-mocking smile, “I’m injured.”

He
gives me a playful peek, “If I give you five bucks would you erase it?”

“No
way. Girls need to be warned. Besides, it was written in permanent
ink—just like the pain you caused the poor girl: it’s written on her
heart, forever.”

He
gives me this look, like I’m nuts. And adorable. Then he gives me a lazy grin,
“Did
you
write it?”

I
squeeze my eyes shut. Busted.

I
try to keep a straight face, “I can neither confirm nor deny that information.
The things written in the girls’ bathroom stays in the girls’ bathroom.”

His
grin quirks, “And yet you told me what’s in the girls’ bathroom.”

I
raise my eyebrows, “And I’ll probably be shot for it. Like you said, I’m on
suicide-watch. Maybe it’s just a ploy to get the job done without me having to
put out effort. Now I can just sit back and wait for the girls’ bathroom mafia
to come get me. I’m lazy that way.”

His
smile quirks, “Or maybe you’re trying to tell me something?—I hurt you? …
by not giving you enough attention? Last week—the first day of school,
you kind of growled that I pissed you off by not leering at you sooner.”

My
jaw drops. “That is
so
not what I was
mad about!”

He
grins, pleased that I’m actually opening up about it. “Okay, so what were you
mad about?”

“No.
I’m not even going to go into it with you—it will just make me mad again,
and right now I’m feeling happy, so don’t blow it.”

His
grin sparks, though it’s just teasing, “My company is making you happy?”

“No,
this
milkshake
is. You had a good
idea, thank you. And as repayment, I was trying to help you out with Miss
Drop-Dead-Cheerleader-Waitress-Chick.”

“Oh,
is that her official name?”

“For
you it is. I was just telling you what was on the bathroom walls to let you
know what you’re up against. If you want to get to Miss Cheerleader’s heart
you’re going to have to somehow convince her you’re not a heartbreaker.” I sit
back and grin smugly, “Good luck with that.”

He
gives me a quizzical look, but then changes the subject, “Why were you so sad
tonight?—earlier? Before my magical milkshake?”

My
heart falls. I
so
don’t like the
change of subject.

He
bites his (gorgeous) bottom lip slightly as he watches me, seeming to negotiate
his inexplicable knowledge before putting it out there and wrenching my heart.
“I thought you’d be happy,” he says finally. “Your dream guy is available
now—you can be the quarterback’s girlfriend without feeling guilty.”

I
slink in my seat. “Not feel guilty? He just dumped my friend—I can’t go
out with him.”

He
grunts. “She’s not your friend. She wouldn’t do the same for you—you know
that.”

It’s
unnerving that he knows so much about me. And my life. I mean, like I said, we
haven’t actually civilly communicated with each other since kindergarten.

He
leans across the table towards me, kind of confidential-like, “Look,
quarterback doesn’t deserve you, but I know you like him a lot. You stare at
him like there are hearts coming out of your eyeballs. He looks at you that way
too. If you want him, he’s yours. You shouldn’t let a selfish, self-centered
sort-of
friend get in your way. She
wouldn’t do the same for you, and she’s not worth losing your heart’s desire
over.” He stares into my eyes, “Just go for it.”

I
quickly look away, since suddenly—for a crazy moment—
he’s
my heart’s desire. Well, the him
from back in kindergarten.

I
clear my throat. “We—we should go. It’s getting late.”

He
gives me another quizzical look, but then Miss Cheerleader/Waitress sashays by
with someone’s order.

“Daisy,”
he calls to her again.

She
flips him off—again.

He
puts his hand over his heart and gives me another playful smirk. “I’m wounded.”

“Yeah,
I can tell,” I say dryly, since he’s in a very good mood.

Apparently
it’s hard to break a heartbreaker’s heart.

CHAPTER 25

Right
before Rider and I left our table at the restaurant, huge guys from his hockey
team piled into the restaurant all rowdy and loud (aka: their usual). Tough-guy
Griffin Piper came up to us with a huge grin on his handsome face.

“Ohh,
the kindergarten couple back together again.” Griffin grinned epically at
Rider, “See, I knew it would happen,” he tells Rider. Then he gives me a
playful wink, “I see this guy giving you puppy dog eyes all the time.”

He
pats Rider on the back, “Did I not tell you?—first love never goes away.
It lasts.”

Of
course Griffin would say that. He’s the toughest guy on the school’s hockey
team, but he turns into a puppy-dog for his girlfriend, Ally. She was Griffin’s
first and only love. Ever. The handsome tough guy seems like he would be a total
heartbreaker, but his heart is completely Ally’s. It’s sweet … but he’s wrong
about Rider and me.

Yes,
we were each other’s first love. Definitely. But it
so
didn’t last. After all, right at this very moment Rider is all
gaga for playing-hard-to-get Waitress Chick, Daisy.

…
and he was just giving me love advice about going after my heart’s
desire—you know, Drew.

So,
yeah. Tough Griffin is the sweetest thing ever … but wrong.

Woefully,
woefully wrong.

CHAPTER 26

On
the drive home Rider tells me, “So, as you may have figured out, there is this
girl I like a lot.”

He
gives me a sideways peek, “But she won’t give me the time of day.”

I
know he’s talking about Daisy, so it’s depressing. Still, I enjoyed my evening
with him a lot. Wayyy more than I’m comfortable with. But he cheered me up when
I was completely down in the dumps, so I throw him a bone. I mean, why not? If
he likes Daisy, let her enjoy a little heartache. I mean, it’s not like she’s
some sweet girl that doesn’t enjoy breaking hearts. I figure it’s karma.

 
“Look, no girl will let you near their
heart if they’re smart. You’re going to have to prove to her that you’re not
going to do your usual.”

He
tilts his head, giving me another sideways peek, then says like he’s just
taking a stab at what his “usual” is, his voice questioning and wary, “Break
her heart?”

He
says it as a total question.

“Of
course break her heart!” I practically growl it. Then calm down, because he
looks so perplexed. Maybe he
doesn’t
know he’s evil. Is that possible?

I
sigh, “Look, you’re going to have to prove to her that you’ve changed. That
she’s special to you and you’ve changed your evil ways.”

He
winces. “My ‘evil’ ways?”

“Your
heartbreaker ways,” I clarify.

His
jaw muscles flicker back and forth for a while.

He
squeezes his eyes shut, then finally says huskily, “Okay, how do I do
that?—how do I show her that she can trust me?—that I’m not out to
break her heart?”

I
glance out the window a moment. I don’t
really
want to help him get Daisy. Why do all the guys like her so much? Even
Heartbreaker Hanson is willing to change his heartbreaker ways for her. It
seems so … well, pathetic actually.

“Give
her a grand gesture—something that you haven’t done for another girl, all
those girls whose hearts you’ve broken.”

He
murmurs, “A grand gesture.”

“Right.”
I sigh it, since it seems like he’s really actually listening to me. Like he’s
really going to try it. So, at this moment I’m steaming jealous of stupid
Daisy. So steaming jealous that I could just …

“Wait!
Stop,” I tell him as we pass the elementary school.

I
bet him excitedly, “If I beat you in hopscotch you have to do your
grand-gesture tonight. Like, as soon as you drop me off.”

He
tilts his head, seeming to weigh my request, but he’s smiling. “This is a
trick—you always beat me at hopscotch. I really hated that game, by the
way. I only played it to please you.”

“You
are such a liar! You LOVED that game. You were the only boy that would play it,
and all the girls loved you for it.”

He
shakes his head, but with another lazy grin, “I only played it for you,
Brooke.” He flickers his jaw muscles, then exhales, “But I’ll play again for
you. But this time I’m actually going to try to win—because you’re not my
girlfriend anymore, so your smile kind of hurts my heart a little.”

I
blink at him. “What are you talking about?”

He
laughs softly, “It always made you so happy to beat me. I loved your smile.”

A
jet of warmth shoots through me.

He
seems to know the effect he’s having on my melting heart, he says softly, “I
used to love to make you smile.”

I
clear my throat and have to look away from his warm eyes. I’d only come up with
the wager because I wanted him to get together with Daisy NOW and put me out of
my suddenly longing agony—since (pathetically) I was starting to get all
gushy again for the handsome heartbreaker that put me on the shaky vulnerable
path I’ve been on ever since he dumped me. The path that let me know: you shouldn’t
give your heart to a boy … he’ll break it like a toy.

And
then move on to another girl.

I
shove back my shoulders and finally dare to look at him again. In fact, I look
him right in the eye and try to sound challenging (and in total control of my
heart), “I’m going to kick your butt at hopscotch, then you’re going to drag
your sorry kicked butt off to do a grand-gesture—okay?”

He
nods, then says softly, “Okay.”

Then
he adds with a teasing smile, “But if I win you’re going to erase what’s
written on the bathroom wall about me.”

I
shake my head, trying not to smile. I raise my eyebrows, “It’s
permanent
.”

“Nothing
is permanent, Brooke.”

“Tell
me about it,” I grumble under my breath.

He
stills, then shoots me a quizzical look. His jaw muscles flicker as he stares
at me, his gorgeous eyes so glued on me, my heart is turning into a puddle. Finally
he murmurs, “This grand-gesture—how big does it have to be?”

“Epic,”
I tell him.

“Yeah,
I’m beginning to see that.” He runs a hand over his face. “Brooke, why are you
so willing to forgive the quarterback—but not me? I never cheated on a
girlfriend—ever. But he cheated on his, right? With you?”

My
heart slams against my chest. “How—how do you know that?”

The
note on my bedroom mirror flashes through my brain like a neon sign, ‘
That boy has a girlfriend, naughty,
naughty.’

Rider
smiles ruefully. “I don’t. But you sure look guilty every time I say it.”

I
grunt. “Okay, no more talking—it’s time for butt kicking.”

He
grins amusedly, “Let the games begin.”