Magic Hands (8 page)

Rachel walked down the crowded hal with Ticia and Jennifer. The guys were at her elbows and heels, and she tried not to lose her patience.

Sam, a drummer for the school jazz band shook his head at Todd. “Forget it, dude. She’s not interested in you because she’s waiting for me to ask her.” He nudged into her playful y.

“Right.” Rachel rol ed her eyes. Miss Tingey’s class was merciful y near. “See you guys later.”

“You driving for lunch?” Todd asked.

“How about that new place, Kippers Fish and Chips?”

Pete asked, slowly trailing a rejected Todd across the hal to another classroom.

Rachel shrugged. “Maybe.” She wanted to keep her options open.

With the boys gone, Jennifer leaned over. “Todd’s driving you nuts, I can tel .”

“When wil he get the message?” Rachel stood outside Miss Tingey’s door as other students entered.

“Never.” Ticia strained a look down the hal . Her face broke into a big smile and Rachel turned. “He’s so hot.”

Cort and Chad came toward them. “They’re both hot,”

Rachel murmured. “Carmel’s looking good today.”

“Uh-huh.” Ticia agreed. Chad’s code name was Caramel because he was the smoothest talking guy they’d ever overheard.

They had yet to come up with a code name for Cort, though they’d named al of his friends. As the boys approached, Rachel held the door for them and waved a goodbye to Jennifer and Ticia who went on to class.

Cort and Chad stopped, and Cort lifted his arm to hold the door open for her. The muscle in his bicep shifted and when his shirt lifted, Rachel caught a glimpse of low bel y, lean and ripped. “After you,” he said with a grin that sent a tingle through her.

Cort fol owed Rachel inside. She was amazingly aware of his presence behind her. She sat, watched as he greeted friends with the typical male greeting of knocking knuckles and slapping palms.

He looked over with a private nod, this greeting sexier.

His dark eyes glittered with something secret.

Miss Tingey spoke, breaking their tight gaze. “Today’s journal topic is
what is real
. I know this sounds ambiguous and I want it to. I want to hear what’s real to you at this very moment. Today. Right now. Write.”

The class started writing and Rachel thought about the topic. What was real for her was the flock of birds swarming inside of her for Cort. Real was the way he looked at her, with a look that said I want you. Real at that very moment was that she was dangerously close to abandoning her resolve to keep her heart protected.

What was real to Cort? She wondered.

Rachel looked amazing today in jeans and a light pink hoodie with Sweetstuff across the front of it. Yeah, she was pretty sweet, that was for sure.

That was real. Cort tried not to let his eyes wander to where she sat. Real is this need I have to get to know her. So consuming. Like hunger.

“Anybody want to share?” Miss Tingey scanned the class for volunteers. No one raised their hands, the room unusual y quiet. She smiled. “This one’s more personal isn’t it?” Slowly she paced in front of the room with her arms folded. “Why is it more personal?”

Somebody spoke. “Because it’s where our brains are and that can incriminate.”

Everyone laughed and Miss Tingey nodded. “True, but that’s also what’s interesting—to see where everybody’s at this very moment. Who’s brave?

Or do I just cal on people?”

“We could say whatever,” one boy cal ed out, “and you wouldn’t know whether it was real or not.”

“But that wouldn’t be any fun,” she teased.

“Real for me right now is keeping the friggin’ deer out of my mom’s yard,” Kevin sighed.

Everyone laughed. Cort leaned over to him. “You stil on that?”

Kevin slumped down in his chair. “Nothing works, man.”

A general discussion about being honest or not fol owed.

Final y Miss Tingey cal ed on Maria de Silva.

Maria’s cheeks flushed red. “Real right now is tonight’s dance and I didn’t get asked.”

“I’l take you,” a boy told her from the back. She looked at him and turned even redder.

“Thank you, Maria.” Miss Tingey scanned the room.

“How about you, Cort?”

Cort shifted under the glare of the spotlight. He lifted his journal—a blue spiral notebook. “Uh. Real right now is too personal for me to tel the class.”

Swoons and howls of taunting fil ed the air. Somebody tried to grab his journal. Some of the girls suggested what might be written on those coveted pages. But Cort just looked adorably shy, Rachel thought, except when those brown eyes met hers. Then he looked hot.

“Personal’s what we want,” Miss Tingey said. “And unless it’s obscene, I expect you to share it. Maria’s was personal, don’t you think?”

The class agreed, and soon they were chanting, “Read, read, read.”

Rachel joined in. She wanted more than anyone to know what Cort had written. He spoke with the reluctance of doing something he real y didn’t want to do but knew he wouldn’t get out of.

“Real is proving to Rachel Baxter that al jocks aren’t jerks.”

The room thundered with screeches of approval and laughter. Some of the guys slapped Cort’s palm.

Rachel buried her head in her crossed arms on her desk and tried to stop laughing. Her face burned. People patted her back, somebody tickled her and she jerked upright.

“Okay,” Miss Tingey laughed. “I guess you two have something to work out.”

“Rachel should read what’s real,” a boy suggested.

Shaking her head, Rachel said, “Never.”

“That’s not fair,” Cort protested, his playful smirk aimed her way.

Rachel slapped her journal shut. That’s al she’d need, to read aloud her feelings for Cort. Thankful y, Miss Tingey moved on to other students, but Cort stil grinned at her.

Subtly he mouthed, “Later.”

The movement of his lips sent a pleasant shudder right down her center. She gave him a non-committal shrug.

After class, Cort fol owed Rachel. “What’s in your journal, Rache?” he asked. She caught a whiff of something rich and heavenly he’d sprayed on.

His brown eyes sparkled.

“You’l never know.”

“I shared mine.”

“How nice for you. Can we change the subject now?”

“Why? You look pretty when you’re embarrassed.”

Heat flushed her cheeks. He was charming, another point for Cort Davies. “I bet you say that to al the girls.”

“Nope.” He opened the door to the locker hal for her and she passed, stealing a glimpse of his muscled arm. “You’d like to think I say that to al the girls though, right?”

Her friends were approaching and she felt a stab of dread that this choice moment would soon be gone. “Maybe.”

“You’l tel me when I’ve proved you wrong?”

He was so cute, his face so sincere. Rachel had doubts she’d ever tel him because then al of this would be over.

“Rache.” She was surrounded now, albeit apprehensively, by the guys, guardedly checking out Cort.

“Hey.” Cort greeted them casual y. Then he looked at her again. “So I’l see you tonight?”

“Sure.”

Cort walked away but the fluttering in her stomach didn’t leave. She watched as he melded into the crowd.

“You know Cort Davies?” Sam asked.

Todd’s expression was wounded. “Are you going to the dance with him?”

Rachel walked the opposite direction. “I’m not going to the dance, I already told you.”

“But he said he’d see you tonight.” Todd fel instep with her, his frustration plain.

Rachel refused to let it bug her. “That’s what he said.”

“So, what does that mean?” Todd persisted.

“Leave it, dude.” Sam elbowed him.

“What, Rache?”

Rachel stopped and glared at Todd. “Are you my big brother now or something? My personal life is private.” She saw Ticia approaching and started toward her.

“Okay, okay,” Todd snapped. “Sorry I asked.”

“Don’t ask again.” Rachel turned to Ticia. “Where do you want to go?”

Sensing the air was thick with something, Ticia looked from face to face. The guy’s heads lowered.

“Maybe we should go to lunch by ourselves.” Rachel shot Todd a look.

The guys mumbled in protest and Todd shook his head.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Rachel said, and led Ticia from the crowded hal .

Rachel stripped off her pink hoodie as she stormed through the parking lot. Ticia tried to keep up with her. The spring sun pulsed through thin wispy clouds, lighting the blue sky to near white. Al around them students made a break for their cars.

“What was that al about?” Ticia waited for Rachel to pop the locks on the car doors.

“That was Todd getting in my face for the last time.”

Rachel got in, started the engine.

“What? He stil getting over the dance thing?”

“He’s stil getting over his ego thing.” Rachel revved the engine before pul ing out. “He thinks he owns me—seriously.

Al the guys do.”

“They’re just protecting you.”

“From what? That’s just plain stupid.”

“They’re jealous.”

“But we’re al friends.”

“I know. But you know Todd’s had it for you for a while.”

“He knows I don’t feel the same. Do I have to come right out and say it?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

She’d hate to have to do that. Rachel’s cel phone vibrated and she stuck it to her ear. “Hey, Jenn….When I didn’t see your car, I figured you weren’t coming. Cal me later. Okay.

See ya.” Rachel dropped the phone on the seat.

“Let me guess, Jenn’s going to lunch with John.”

Rachel shot her a smile. “Of course.”

“Oh, look.” Ticia pointed to Kippers Fish and Chowder House where Cort was just hopping out of his white truck, fol owed by Ben and Chad.

“Carmel and Brownie are looking fine today,” Ticia said.

“Should we?”

The girls exchanged playful grins. Rachel pul ed her car next to Cort’s white truck just as they boys entered the restaurant. “Is this too obvious?”

Ticia had one leg out the door. “I don’t think so.”

“Yes, it is. I just saw him five seconds ago in the hal .”

Rachel searched the place, couldn’t see through the reflection in the glass. “It looks like I’m fol owing him.”

“What do you care what it looks like? It’s never bothered you before. And we need to eat somewhere.”

Rachel’s fingers tapped on her steering wheel. But timing was important. If she moved too fast, showed too much interest too soon; let him know too much about her too fast, that could kil things. She started the car.

Ticia whined. “Carmel and Brownie are in there. You may have seen Cort, but I haven’t seen Carmel yet. Come on, for me.”

Rachel looked at the window, wishing she knew if they’d been spotted or not. If they had, Cort might wonder why they weren’t coming in. Ticia’s light blue eyes begged.

Reluctantly Rachel got out, her chest fil ed with wild birds. There were dozens of places kids from school ate at during lunch break; Wendy’s being the number one pick.

Purple Turtle was another hot spot. She hoped Cort wouldn’t think this was a set up.

They walked in and the smel of crisp, fried food scented the air. Pictures of light houses and oceans lined the wood-planked wal s. Heavy rope, wooden steering wheels and plastic seagul s in flight hung from the ceiling.

Cort was taking his tray to the table when she caught his eye. Suddenly al of his friends looked at them. Cort waved.

“Come sit,” he cal ed over the noise.

It only took a heartbeat to say yes. Rachel and Ticia ordered then joined the guys at a corner table.

“I thought you might say no,” Cort told her as he pul ed out a chair for her and she sat.

“Why would I say no?”

He sat next to her. “You’re the most evasive girl I’ve ever met, Rache.” Because the table was smal and crowded, their bodies sandwiched next to each other.

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Cort reached over her, his arm brushing her shoulder as he grabbed her drink. “Is it okay if I cal you Rache?”

“Sure.”

“What do you drink, anyway?” He opened the plastic lid but Rachel stopped him, laying her hand over his.

“Try it,” she told him, lifting the straw to his lips. His mouth surrounded the tip, keeping his eyes locked with hers, he drank.

“Something diet.” He pul ed back and made a face she thought was cute.

“I like it.”

“I hate diet.”

She took the drink, shrugged. Then she picked up his plastic cup, and pressed the straw to her lips, noticing how he sat perfectly stil , watching.

“Chocolate shake.”

He took the shake and immediately put his lips where hers had been and took a deep sip. His voice was low, “Yup.”

He popped a fry in his mouth. “So, you eat here a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“See?” He shook his head. “See how vague you are?

Drives me nuts.”

“I don’t do it on purpose.”

Commotion had them looking toward the glass doors. A smal group of elderly people shuffled in.

“Oh my gosh,” Rachel stood. “Hey!”

Charlie looked over. He was a nurse’s assistant at Countryside. Mannie, Lily and another woman Rachel had seen occasional y at her readings was with him. Their wrinkled faces broke into giant smiles when they saw her.

“Your grandma?” Cort asked.

Rachel slid out of her chair. “No. I’l be right back.”

Quickly she made her way over and helped Charlie seat them.

“What’s our lovey doing here?” Mannie cupped her cheeks.

“Just eating lunch with some friends. What are you guys doing here?”

“Why it’s Friday,” Lily piped, “Fish day.”

“We get to have a field trip on fish day,” Mannie confided.

Rachel laughed.

“Thanks for helping,” Charlie told her. “Ladies, I’l be right back with your orders.”

Rachel sat down at their table. “Where’s Martin?”

Mannie made a face. “You know him, too prickly to leave his comfort zone. I told him he needs to get out once in a while but he says it’s too late for that.”

“Are you here with that young man?” Lily pointed a crooked finger Cort’s direction.