Prove Me Wrong

  COPYRIGHT

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  Published by

  Tessa Marie

  Copyright February 2015

  Cover Photo by Rachel Schieffelbein

  Cover Design by A Brennan Designs

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.

  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All a girl really wants is for one guy to prove to her that they are not all the same.

  -Marilyn Monroe

  I lounge on the sand as the last night of summer drifts away with the tide. Tomorrow I’ll have to drag my ass out of bed before noon and try not to roll my eyes every time someone reminds me it’s senior year. As if I haven’t been counting down since seventh grade. Except my countdown doesn’t end until I’m finally free of teachers and textbooks. One hundred and eighty-one days of school to go.

  Arms wrap around my neck, and the fresh air is tainted by sweet vanilla perfume that reminds me of the time I mixed vanilla ice cream with Jagermeister then hurled it all up. Amanda presses her lips to my ears. “Hey, you. Where’ve you been? I’ve missed you this summer.”

  “Around,” I say and don’t bother to look at her when she creeps her fingers along my neck and stumbles to sit beside me.

  We had a thing last year. It was more sex than anything else. She wanted it to be more, and I thought it possibly could but quickly realized her looks and her body didn’t help carry a conversation. There are only so many times you can down a beer then go hook up before it gets boring.

  “Why are you sitting over here all alone?” she asks and moves closer, placing her hand on my inner thigh. As if me being over here is a silent invitation for her. Never one to beat around the bush, she leans in and swirls her tongue around my earlobe.

  If she wasn’t drunk and slobbering like some overexcited puppy, I might be into it, but right now all I can do is focus on the water and try to keep my buzz from turning into the spins.

  “I’m not in the mood,” I say and tilt my head away from her.

  “You’re always in the mood,” she responds and squishes her chest against my upper arm.

  “Not tonight.” I shift away, and she loses her balance, falling flat on the sand. Laughter pours out of her overly glossed lips. So much for getting some peace and quiet.

  Behind us where the sand meets the woods someone yells, “Fuck, the police.” I turn around and see Russ with his arms up, beer spilling over his cup while Bobby tries to quiet him down. Dumbass. This might be our spot, but it’s a private beach. No trespassing.

  Amanda sits up and pushes her finger to her lips. “Shhh,” she spits loudly then gets up and stumbles to Russ, slapping a hand over his mouth. He grabs for it and goes to yell again when she presses in closer to him.

  The last time the cops showed up was because someone couldn’t keep their damn mouth shut. Normally, I’d let it go, but I’m not in the mood to run from the cops tonight. Not in the mood for much actually. Now he and Amanda are laughing so loud it echoes off the night sky.

  I shake my head and stand up. Am I the only one who knows how to act normal after a few drinks? “Hey Russ,” I say as I make my way towards the group. He looks in my direction. “Shut up before someone calls the cops.”

  Amanda giggles and Russ’s eyes narrow.

  “Fuck you, Hannon,” Russ yells even louder.

  “I swear to God, Russ, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll shut it for you.”

  Before I can say another freaking word Russ lunges at me. I duck, dodging his fist and push him to the ground. He goes face-first into the sand, and I can’t help but laugh. He does this every single time. Drinks himself into oblivion then starts shit.

  We’ve thrown down plenty of times, not like he ever remembers, but there’s just something about tonight where nothing feels like it used to. Maybe it’s because CJ, my best friend, isn’t here. Or maybe it’s because I’m buzzed and tired, and I really just want to crash and sleep it off. Either way I’m over it.

  I go to help Russ out of the sand, but Amanda has fallen down with him and he’s grinning like a pig in shit, so I leave him there.

  I walk by the group and Bobby yells, “Where you going?”

  “Home,” I say.

  “It’s early.”

  “I’m just done.”

  He runs up to me and holds a bottle of Jager out. “What about one more shot?”

  I look at him and then the bottle. “Fine. What’s one more shot?”

  ***

  I pull my black Doc Martens on my feet and let my jeans fall over them, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. Then I slide my arms into the short sleeve black Dickies shirt and walk to the bathroom as I button it up. Shouldn’t have taken that last shot of Jager.

  Mom has a plate of pancakes waiting for me in the kitchen. She already left for work. Being a single mom’s hard, and she works two jobs just to get by. I try to help but the lousy eight bucks an hour I make bagging groceries doesn’t even cover the electric bill.

  Next to the plate is an application for a college. I shake my head at her persistence then tuck it in my pocket to throw away at school.

  Life might be hard for us, but Mom always manages to make it a little better. She’s done everything to make me the best me, but I don’t want to be bothered and it makes me feel kind of guilty, especially for everything she’s sacrificed. College is expensive though. I’m doing her a favor by not setting my goals high.

  Seven thirty on the dot I hear the horn of the old Cadillac. Fuck. I shove the last forkful of pancake in my mouth, throw the dish in the sink, and grab my notebook before I run out the door.

  CJ points to his wrist, though he doesn’t have a watch on. He looks like he just rolled out of bed and by the pillow indents on his face, I’m pretty sure he did.

  I hop in the passenger seat of the shit brown Caddy and close the door with a slam so it actually closes. I’m sure back in 1983 it was a prize, but time hasn’t been nice to it.

  “Come on shithead, we’re going to be late,” CJ says, a cigarette hanging from his lip.

  “Dude, school doesn’t start for a half hour and it’s around the corner.”

  “Well, a lot can happen in a mile. I could get a flat or there could be traffic.” The chances of anything like that happening are slim to none, but because he’s so determined to start the new year off right, I keep my mouth shut.

  “Whatever.” I slouch into the car-size Lazy Boys. The only good thing about the Caddy is the seats.

  Exactly five minutes later we’re there. No flat tire and no traffic. “Now what?” I ask as CJ flicks his cigarette out the window before turning into the lot.

  He looks at me like I’m crazy. “We go in.”

  I look back at him the same way. “We’re twenty minutes early.”

  “Here’s a novel idea. You can actually get to class on time for a change.”

  Was he kidding? “We didn’t even show up for the first day last year. Don’t you remember screwing around the mall before getting drunk in the parking lot?”

  “I do. But that was last year. I’m done doing that shit. Let’s just go in.”

  “Fine, let’s get this over with,” I say, rolling my eyes for emphasis.

  “Way to be positive.”

  “What’s the point?” I grab my notebook and he doesn’t answer me. Not that I expect him to.
<
br />   We walk into the main hallway, and I’m already itching to turn around and head back to the Caddy. I hesitate but CJ pats me on the back and forces me forward.

  “Our future awaits,” he says like some kind of Hallmark card.

  “No CJ, your future awaits,” I scan my hand out in front of me towards the blue lockers and classrooms. “My future doesn’t involve this.”

  He stops walking, and I don’t like the look on his face. Disappointment? Frustration? I’m not really sure.

  “Then what does it involve?” he asks.

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  CJ goes to open his mouth then snaps it shut and shakes his head. “My homeroom’s this way. I’ll see you later.” He gives me a fist bump and disappears among the masses.

  I look up and down the halls wondering which girl gained five pounds in her stomach over summer break and who gained it in her bra. Melissa Deltorro definitely gained it in her bra. Last year she had nothing more than grapes and now…well damn she’s got perfect melons. It’s obvious she’s enjoying them since she’s wearing a low cut shirt and keeps finding an excuse to bend over. Not that I’m complaining.

  I’m getting closer to homeroom, debating on actually going in. It’s not like I need to be here. I’m not going to college which is the only reason why I’d even need to care. I’m about to turn around and forget about this place when I see her.

  I’ve been in school with the same people since sixth grade yet I’ve never seen her before. It’s been a long time since someone worth looking at moved here.

  My eyes scan down the gorgeous legs, covered by a skirt that leaves just the right amount to the imagination. Following them right down to her converse then back up to her Green Day t-shirt, pulled perfectly across her chest.

  She has good taste in music. Unless she’s one of those girls that just wears band shirts for a fashion statement.

  Either way, I’m going to find out.

  I never expected to be alone senior year. Becky and I had so many expectations for our final school year and now…Now my best friend is hours away with the life I left behind.

  I walk through the halls of my new school, wishing Becky was here with me. Wishing I had the slightest clue to where the heck I’m going.

  I glance left, then right, trying to figure it out without having to ask someone. Luck doesn’t seem to be on my side. So instead, I search for the friendliest looking person.

  My eyes roam the hall, landing on one of the most gorgeous guys I’ve ever seen. His black t-shirt beneath his short sleeve button up sits tight against his chest and his dark hair is the perfect contrast to his light eyes. He leans against a locker with ease as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. His casual look paired with that confident demeanor, has me staring like a dog in heat. Flames shoot up my neck when my eyes meet his jaw dropping blue ones. And my God are those even real? His gaze drifts away from my face and down to my bare legs then ever so slowly back up.

  On instinct my hand flies to my stomach and then I remember the two hundred awful sit-ups a day, never-ending planks, and dreadful three mile jogs I did to lose the baby weight. I glance down at my favorite fitted band tee and run a hand over my now flat stomach, down to the green cargo skirt I paired it with. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to wear this outfit.

  I have nothing to be ashamed about. This is a new school. A new start. Nobody knows about me or my son. But I do, and the last thing I need is a complication.

  I dart my attention away and spot a girl standing by herself. Her dark straight-leg jeans and green shirt would look plain on anybody else, but she owns it, complementing it with navy blue flats and a matching bag. And despite her confidence there’s something about her that makes me think she’s friendly. Either way, she’s my only choice to help me navigate these halls without approaching Mr. Black T-shirt over there, whose eyes are still on me.

  “Um…excuse me?”

  She looks up and her brown hair with natural auburn highlights falls away from her face, revealing freckled adorned skin.

  “Can you tell me where the main office is?” I ask.

  She smiles a bright full tooth smile. Oh thank the heavens. “I’ll do one better. I’m on my way there so I’ll show you.”

  I follow her lead and head to the right, away from Mr. Blue Eyes. “Thank you. It’s my first day.”

  “By tomorrow you’ll have it all figured out.” My doubts must show because she says, “It’s not as bad as it seems. By the way I’m Roxanne, but you can call me Roxy, everyone else does.”

  “Hailey.”

  “Well Hailey, here we are.” She turns to a half wooden, half glass wall with two glass doors marked Main Office.

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime. Maybe I’ll see you around. Look for me.” She waves and disappears into another doorway as I walk to the main desk. An older woman with a fashionable salt and pepper bob tilts her glasses down and glances up at me.

  “Hi, I’m Hailey Saldino. I just transferred here from—”

  “Miss Saldino, yes. Here is your class schedule, your locker number with the code, and a school organizer which has a map inside. Welcome to Ridgewood High. Good luck.”

  “Um…Thanks.” I take the organizer and other papers and place them in my brown crossover bag. I look over my class schedule. Homeroom, room number 202. Where the heck is that?

  I retrieve the organizer with the map from my bag and step into the hallway. After flipping through every page I find it at the end.

  I take a step to my left then take it back. People pass me, but no one acknowledges my existence. I move a few feet to my right then turn in a circle. Why is this map so hard to read? I go to ask someone, but they whiz by me before I can even get the words out. At this rate I’m never going to find my homeroom.

  “It helps if you flip it around.”

  Grateful someone noticed, I look up. As I meet his blue eyes, my breath catches in my throat. I go to speak and can’t. His fingers skim mine as he grabs the organizer and turns it around.

  “Th…Thank you.”

  “Can I see that?” he asks, taking my class schedule before I can blurt out an answer. “Looks like we have homeroom together.”

  He grins, and I know I should walk away. Just like I should have walked away from Nolan Paxton when he told me he didn’t have a condom. But this isn’t sex. Mr. Sparkling Blue Eyes with that adorable smile just wants to show me to my class. No harm in that.

  “Really?” I squeak, finally finding my voice, even if it does resemble that of high-pitched hyena. “Cool. I’m Hailey by the way.”

  “Luke.” He puts his hand out and leans closer. His cologne engulfs me in a mixture of lemons and cedar that’s so delicious I have to keep myself from sniffing him.

  “So where’s our homeroom?” I ask after noticing the halls thinning out.

  “It’s right here.” He points to the door behind him.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I don’t kid.”

  “Good to know.” My cheeks heat up when he smiles, and I try to cover the blush I know is sending a red flare of embarrassment up my neck. This is ridiculous. I can’t be attracted to him. Maybe if things were different. If it were a couple years ago. But now…it’s complicated.

  Still I can’t help but wonder what it is about him. Since I had Brady, guys have been the last thing on my mind. Yet here I am drooling over a guy I barely know.

  Maybe it’s the carefree air he has about him, the way he smiles with just the right amount of charm and confidence, or maybe because out of the sea of people passing by, he was the only one to stop. Whatever it is makes it impossible to calm down the giddy school girl inside of me.

  This isn’t good.

  I already told myself I can’t make friends because of my situation. The last thing I need is some silly crush.

  The scent of green apples never smelled so good.

  I resist the urge to lean in closer as we stand
just outside of homeroom. I have to make my move before some jockstrap-wearing meathead swoops in and steals her out from under me.

  I put my hand out as a signal to let her enter before me. It looks like I’m being a gentleman, but really I’m checking out her ass. Once she’s through the door, I follow her. She takes a seat in the front. Definitely not my first choice. The last time I sat in the front of class was in elementary school, but with an ass like that, it’s worth it.

  Russ sits in the back. Normally I’d go straight there and bullshit with him about the party because I know he won’t remember anything. Instead I slide into the hard, uncomfortable chair beside Hailey.

  You’d think since we have to sit in these things for eight hours a day they’d make them a little more tolerable. Two seconds in the chair and I’m already thinking about leaving to go sit in the Caddy.

  I shift in my seat and watch as Hailey tucks her soft brown hair behind her ear. “Would you mind showing me where my next class is?” she asks. I love the shyness in her voice. It’s adorable.

  “Happy to.” I take the schedule off her desk and smile. “Looks like we’ll be across the hall from each other, so after that, I can show you to your second class.” My butt is just going to have to deal.

  Her eyes light up. I still can’t decipher what color they actually are. In the hallway they looked green but now they look almost copper, like her shirt. “That’d be awesome. Thank you.”

  “So are you a Green Day fan?”

  She tilts her head to the side, and I point to the words on her shirt.

  “Oh!” She smiles. “Definitely a fan. My mom said it’s because she listened to them a lot when she was pregnant with me.”

  “Your mom has good taste in music. What other bands do you like?”

  Before Hailey can answer my question, Mrs. McNamara walks in, and damn she packed on the pounds since freshman year.

  “Okay, everyone out of their seats.” What is she talking about? “We’re going to be seated alphabetically.”

  Sighs around the room echo my thoughts. I watch Hailey grab her bag and stand to the side. I’m still sitting in my seat when Mrs. McNamara comes over to my desk.