Louder Than Words (Fall For Me) (4 page)

CHAPTER 10

First period during the school’s usual
webcast (you know, when they do the Pledge of Allegiance and school
announcements and stuff), there’s suddenly this disturbance in the broadcast.

It gets interrupted with a taped video.

I’d been looking over my vocabulary
words and not really paying attention—at first. But suddenly I hear these
kissing and moaning noises and I’m like
What
the—?

Suddenly, I’m very interested in
today’s announcements.

I jerk my head up just in time to
see
Sabrina
making out with a guy on
our class’s webcast video screen. She’s very, extremely, totally into the
kissing—moaning and purring and kissing the guy all hot and heavy. Totally
panting. The class is going wild.

The guy she’s kissing murmurs,
“Maybe we should stop. You have a boyfriend—Brendan—right?”

“Don’t stop,” she answers huskily,
still kissing him, seeming to be in heaven, groaning and panting and purring.

“What?” the guy asks. “What’d you
say? You don’t want me to stop?”

“Don’t stop,” she breathes out
dreamily. “Don’t stop!”

“Alright,” he laughs, going back to
kissing her neck. “I won’t stop. I mean, since you’re begging and everything.”

My heart pounding, I flick my gaze
to Sabrina.

She’s across the classroom watching
the video with her mouth hanging open, looking horrified. Like she can’t
believe what happened—or what’s happening now. That she’d actually been recorded
making out with a boy. A boy that wasn’t Brendan—her “boyfriend.”

Suddenly—finally—she
jumps up from her seat. Like she’s finally snapped out of her traumatized trance.
“Turn it off!” she screams. “Turn it off NOW!!”

She stomps her feet and shrieks,
then runs out of the classroom, crying hysterically.

Seriously. She stomped her feet.
And shrieked.

Only a few minutes later I’m called
down to the principal’s office on the school’s intercom. Well,
me and Mason
.

Because Mason was the guy Sabrina
was kissing.

CHAPTER 11

When I get to the office, Mason is
already there.

“Look, it wasn’t me,” he tells the
principal. “I didn’t record it, I was
in
the video. How would I have shot it
?—
or set up
the recording?—or whatever Sabrina’s trying to say I did? She came on to
me
. We went to
her
house. It was shot there—in
her
room.”

He sounds totally convincing. Even
to me. I mean, how could he have worked all that
out?…
Yet I know he did. Somehow.

That knowledge does strange things
to my insides and gets my heart beating all spastic and wild.
I mean, as I’d watched the video
,
I’d been
stunned
. Totally shocked.
And horrified.
I mean
,
Mason had been
making-out
with Sabrina. Sabrina!!
Totally hot and heavy.
Seeing
that had killed me. Truly. Everything inside me died. Yet at the same time, I’d
been slightly grateful. Because I knew Mason was doing it for me. That
knowledge has my world spinning. Even now.

 
Mason shrugs, looking directly into our principal’s eyes.
“Someone’s going after the cheerleaders,” he says. “First Summer, with that
awesome shot that was sent to the
whole
school. Now Sabrina.”

Sabrina glares at Mason, probably
as much from him using the word “awesome” about the picture she had sent out
(the one that was supposed to
embarrass
me and make me look bad—certainly not “awesome”)—she’s probably
just as mad about that as she is that he’s obviously trying to pull off a
humiliating scam directed at her.
One that she’s probably
going to have to take a hit on in order to not out herself about her evil scam
on me.

Sabrina huffs, then whines to the
principal, “It’s
not
the same
person.”

“How do you know?” Mason raises his
eyebrows challengingly. He leans in towards her. “What do you know about
Summer
’s picture? The one that was sent from a locker
room—of a
different
school.”
His dark eyes glint at Sabrina, full of challenge. Glisten with threat. There’s
a dark edge to his voice, “What do you know about that?”

 
“Nothing!” Sabrina snaps.

“Well, I don’t know why I was
called in here,” Mason says to Principal Gardner. “Summer tells me her picture
must have been taken at the North swim meet—‘cause it’s North’s locker
room. I was at Anger Management that weekend—nowhere near North High. I
couldn’t have taken her picture.”

Sabrina squirms. “Right, but the
person who took her picture wasn’t the same person that took the video of me,” she
says through gritted teeth.

Mason smirks,
then
scrunches up his eyebrows in total over-dramatic mock-confusion. “How do you
know that?”

Sabrina reddens. She opens her
mouth,
then
snaps it shut. Finally she stammers out,
“I—I just don’t think it was the same person.”

Mason shrugs. “Why not? It’s almost
the exact same thing—embarrassing stuff being sent through the school.
You seemed to think
Summer
should blow it off.” He
raises his eyebrows, looking at Sabrina pointedly, “Looks like you should too.”

The principal glances skeptically
from Sabrina to Mason. “You say you were at Anger Management when the picture
of
Summer
was taken?”

Mason nods gravelly. “Yes sir—you’re
the one that sent me.”

Principal Gardner’s eyes cut to me.
“You know it was taken at the North Game?”

I nod. “Definitely.”

He turns his gaze back to Sabrina.
“It seems whoever is doing this is set out to embarrass the whole cheerleading squad—can
you think who that might be?”
His eyes skirt to Mason and me.
“You two are free to go.”

CHAPTER 12

I stand outside of the principal’s
office in the school hallway with Mason. We trail towards our lockers together.
Well, towards his. Mine is in the opposite direction. I just want to thank him.
Somehow. I mean
,
he certainly didn’t have to do
that—slam snotty, smug Sabrina for me.

“How’d you work that out?” I ask
him, instead of actually able to get the words “thank you” to come out of my
mouth. Sometimes—these days—it’s hard for me to say that to him.
Well, that—or anything else.

I go on, avoiding my pounding,
mushy heart, “I mean, being able to videotape her room like that,” I give him a
sideways glance, “—how’d you manage it?”

He grins. “
I
didn’t.”

I scrunch up my eyebrows at him.

His eyes twinkle. “I swear—I
didn’t lie to the principal.”

His lips quirk to my silence and he
juts his chin. “What, you don’t believe me?”

He breathes out a soft
laugh—music. “I made your friend Blake do it—the spying, teckie
stuff. I made him put his hacking skills to good use for once—you know,
made him
help
you for a change
instead of causing you more grief.”

Warm tingles skitter through my
body.

‘Thank
you.’ Just say that,
Summer
! ‘Thank you
so
much.’

Instead, what comes out of my mouth
is, “Hmm. And then you just knew Sabrina would invite you to her house?”

Another lazy grin creeps on his gorgeous
lips. “Girls do that. Sometimes.”

For a minute, it’s like he’s not
going to go on—explain. Just leave it at that—girls are hopeless
puddles over him. (Duh.) But then he gives me the courtesy of a little more
info, “I knew she’d be at that chick, Jade’s party. So I went. And flashed her
my smile.”

“And then she came on to you?”

He doesn’t answer.
Because he doesn’t have to.
He smiles. Girls melt. It’s all
very wonderful—for him.

Out of nowhere, I say, “I cried
when you moved out.”

“Good.”

I swallow. “I’ve missed you.”

His eyes narrow and stare. He leans
against his locker. “You didn’t act like it.”

“Well … it’s easier that way.”

He nods, just watching me. Like
it’s my move.

… It’s always been my move.

FOUR YEARS EARLIER …

CHAPTER 13

“Mom
said
you need
to get my bike down from the rafters.”

I was talking to my older brother, Trevor.
He was normally at my dad’s house (he lived with my dad) but suddenly, since we
now had a new “brother” (our new step-dad’s son) suddenly Trevor came around
more.
Now that there was someone to play basketball with.
That’s what he was doing now. Playing basketball with our new stepbrother,
Mason, out in our driveway.

“Get it down yourself,” Trevor said
about the bike.

“I can’t reach it. And I’ll get all
dirty.” I was dressed fancy for a birthday party—in a dress and
everything. The party entailed going to a fancy restaurant for “brunch.” I was
stoked since I love brunch. And getting dressed up. However, when I learned mom’s
car was at the auto shop for repairs, and that I was going to have to ride my
bike to the party I was no longer stoked. I mean
,
I
was in a dress!

I really hated asking my brother
for anything. Anything! But the garage was a grimy, dusty mess and I was
already dressed and running late—so I couldn’t change.
Even
if I wanted to.
Which I so didn’t.
It had taken
me a long time to do my stupid hair like I wanted. But now—for this
moment—it looked exactly how I wanted. I didn’t want to mess with it by
throwing my dress over it—trying to reach up into the dirty, cobwebby garage
rafters for my bike.

I gritted my teeth, feeling
hopeless. You can’t get my brother to do anything. “Mom said for you to get it
down.”

“I can get it down.”

My head jerked up. That
announcement had come from Mason. Mason, who I thought I loathed. I didn’t
really know the guy. He had been new to our middle school and I hadn’t had any
classes with him. But he was on the hockey team, so he hung out with the tough
guys at our middle school like Griffin Piper and Jake Edwards. To tell you the
truth, I was somewhat afraid of Mason. But I could have kissed him at that moment.

Trevor gave Mason a look like,
Really? You’d ruin our game to help Miss
Prissy?

But Mason gave him a look back and
shrugged with a grin. “What? She needs her bike down.”

“Come on,” Mason said to me with a
gentle tug on my arm, ignoring Trevor’s groaning. “Show me where your bike is—I’ll
get it for you.”

Trevor rolled his eyes in
frustration as Mason headed to the garage with me, abandoning Trevor and his precious
game.

“She can get it herself,” Trevor
complained loudly.

Mason turned back to Trevor with a
good-natured smirk. “I’m sure she can.” He gestured at me like,
Come
on, man
. “But she’s all dressed up fancy
and doesn’t want to get messy—
I
don’t want her to get messy either.”

He grinned at Trevor’s sour look.
“I want to help her.”

Oh.

My heart jolted.

That news was weird to me. But I
liked it. A lot.

Now (for some reason) kind of shaky
and sweaty, I lead
Mason
silently into the garage, my
heart pounding wild as though he’d said to Trevor,
“Look, your sister is dressed beautiful, give her a break.”

I mean
,
that’s how I felt. Like Mason got me.
And the situation.
And that felt … awesome.

“Thanks,” I told Mason once he had
my bike down. “I could have gotten it, but …”

“No, you look nice,” he said softly.
He pushed his damp hair off his glistening forehead (still slightly moist from
playing basketball). He wet his bottom lip, making it tempting and
shiny—and for the first time in my life making me wonder what it would be
like to have a boy press his lips against mine. Would it be soft? Or rough like
his hands? Either seemed tempting.

His boy fingers weaved through his
messy, soft strands as his eyes stayed on mine. “You wouldn’t want to get all
messed up,” he said.

My cheeks—and whole
body—filled with warmth. As much from his understanding as anything else
(though now there was a lot going on inside me—confusing, conflicting
emotions that had my knees feeling wobbly and my head going
uh-oh
). “Thanks,” I whispered.

Suddenly I adored having a
brother—you know, one that wasn’t actually related to
me
… or a lazy dirt-wad
. Mason seemed kind and sweet and like he
wanted
to take care of me. No one else
really seemed to want to do that. Not even my mom anymore. So, for it to be a
boy … one that looked like Mason—heart-throbbingly cute (though big and
muscle-y)—it did strange things to my insides.

Mason cleared his throat.

“Your tires are low—almost
flat,” he said, after we stood there a moment in (awkward? awesome? magical?)
silence. His fingers weaved through his messy strands again as his eyes dragged
from my face to my bike to my tires.

He went on, his rough voice making
my heart pound strangely, “I’ll pump them for you.”

And then … he did. Silently, I
watched him pump each tire with care, watched his sandy hair fall over his
gorgeous, mysterious dark grey eyes as his fingers tried again and again to
keep the damp strands back.

He tilted his head up at me. “You
know, you’re not really dressed to ride a bike.”

I rolled my eyes with a mock-groan.
“Tell me about it.” I mean
,
I was wearing
heels
for Pete’s sake. “But my mom’s car
is in the shop. So, I really don’t have another option.”

Mason’s hands stilled. “I could
give you a ride.”

I tilted my head. With his chin he
gestured at his motor-scooter thing. It was kind of like a motorcycle.
Sort of.

His brow rose. “Want a ride?”

“Um, yeah.”

I
adored
having a stepbrother!

When I showed up for Lacy’s
birthday party on the back of Mason’s motor-scooter, Lacy’s older sister,
Clair, eyed us
all drooling
—well, eyed Mason.
(She ignored me.)

She was two years older than us, and
completely stuck-up.

“Put your tongue back in your
mouth—he’s my grade,” I told her as I walked passed her to the party.
Though, yeah, I had to admit Mason looked older than me. Way older. … But he
wasn’t.

I watched Clair keep staring at him
as he drove off on his motorbike. And I realized I wasn’t the only one that
thought Mason was yummy cute—only I hadn’t discovered I thought that
until he had helped me with my bike.

Mason had been living with us a
full week before that—before the helping-me-with-my-tires-thing. But
before that I had avoided him. Hid from him.

When he moved in—the weekend
after my mom eloped with his dad in Las Vegas—I stayed the weekend at
Zoey’s house. Specifically to hide from my new “stepbrother.”

“He’s cute,” Zoey had told me.

I’d wrinkled up my nose. “He hangs
out with Jake and Griffin—total thugs.”

Zoey grinned, “Griffin’s cute,
too.”

I rolled my eyes. Apparently she
thought everyone was cute. But she had a boyfriend. It wasn’t Riley back then.
It was Finn Oaks. And she didn’t
seriously
look at other guys. She was totally devoted to Finn. Totally. But she wasn’t
blind—she had seeing eyes. And Griffin
was
cute. And he wasn’t like Jake—he was actually
sweet … in a rough-guy kind of way. But Jake—ugh! Jake gave me the
chills. I wanted nothing to do with him—or his friends.

But now … well, now I thought
otherwise.

Mason was awesome.