Kissing The Bad Boy Read online

  Anyway, with all this said, I stare at the hairclip an absurdly excessively long time, longing for it to be Julie’s, but knowing that it’s not.

  I quickly stick it in my pocket as I head for school. I’m pretty Julie obsessed, I realize this. But the hairclip belongs to someone other than Julie, and I figure I know whose it is, probably, since the girl wears a lot of hairclips and other distracting hair-things—and I’m pretty sure she was the last girl I had in my room. Well, pretty sure.

  I freeze though when I see my screen-saver. Because it’s blank. I set my jaw, a chill going through me. Suddenly, I stare at the hairclip again—in a new light. Then look around my room. Oh man, another gift. I run a hand over my face. There’s a plate of brownies sitting on my dresser. How did I miss that?

  … because I’ve had my dreamy thoughts completely on Julie ever since I came home last night—that’s how. (Also, I’d carelessly tossed my shirt over them.) (I’m a slob.)

  I quickly dump the brownies in the garbage. I ain’t touching any snack left by a psycho; she dumped my Julie picture. (Pout.)

  Squinting, I look around my room again.

  I’ve had my share of stalkers. But this is a little crazy. I mean, okay—yes, girls have broken into my room before. But they don’t snoop around, and then sneak out. They surprise me with sexy poses and sexy outfits and … sexy stuff. But this is deranged stuff. And really, I don’t even especially like the other stuff—the sexy stuff. I mean, okay, I like it, of course. But I’d prefer it didn’t happen. I don’t like people breaking into my room. And I actually tell the girls so—but this one I can’t tell. Because I don’t know who she is.

  I eye the brownies in my garbage again, then head out the door—the hairclip in my pocket again. After all, it could belong to the last visitor I invited into my room. You never know. And, in fact, she’s kind of a stalker herself.

  But she wouldn’t make me brownies.

  CHAPTER 28

  ***CADE***

  CADE

  As soon as I get to school, this girl, Bianca, is at my side, not looking pleased. “Where were you last night?” she asks.

  I freeze. Was I supposed to meet her somewhere? Pretty sure we had no plans. Hard to keep up with her though, as she’s one minute telling me she has a boyfriend, the next she’s all over me.

  She’s one of those girls that likes to be chased, but I don’t do that. I’m pretty lazy. Girls come to me … or they don’t. Their choice. (Well, unless their name is Julie.) (I’m not lazy when it comes to Julie.)

  Bianca narrows her eyes. “I went to see you at work, but you weren’t there.” She does her pouty-face. “You told me you had to work last night.”

  I rub the back of my neck feeling interrogated, which I don’t like, and I don’t usually have to deal with as I don’t live with parents—or have a girlfriend. Maybe this is why. (Well, one of the many reasons why.) Guys are always talking about their girlfriends doing this to them—but Bianca is not my girlfriend, and as far as I know she has some college-guy boyfriend. I’m really not sure. She’s actually a little bit psycho. (But she’s very soft.) (And has a very talented tongue.)

  I take a step away from her. Like I said, she’s not my girlfriend. I don’t have to deal with her irrational—whatever this is.

  “I’m late, Bianca. I’ll see ya,” I lie (on both counts).

  She stomps her foot. She’s a cheerleader, and like I said, very soft. She’s not used to guys walking away from her. Apparently she doesn’t handle it well.

  “Were you with Cheri last night?” she demands.

  I draw out a breath. “No. I was at work. I left early.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. I really don’t like this. She huffs, “Someone told me they saw you in the parking lot at some fancy French restaurant.”

  I let out a breath, “What if I was?”

  Her answer is a scowl.

  I stare at it, kind of wanting to roll my eyes, but I resist.

  However, as I take this totally non-hormonal (for once) look at her, something suddenly dawns on me. Okay, maybe I’m being paranoid, due to my screen-saver pick-me-up being deleted, but the chick—come on, she’s kind of somewhat being a bit of a stalker, right? Kind of. Though, okay, she doesn’t bake brownies, still, she keeps showing up everywhere I go. And she freakin’ stalks me. I mean, who cares if I was in a parking lot? Not someone who is supposedly all into their boyfriend—who isn’t me.

  Her lip quivers. “Were you in the parking lot?”

  Oh man, there’s tears in her eyes.

  I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, Bianca, I was. But that’s not a problem, right? I mean, it’s not like I was cheating on you, since you keep saying you have a—”

  “I have a boyfriend—I do.”

  “Right. So …” I’m not sure how to end this without her bursting into tears, and me feeling like a creep—though I didn’t do anything wrong.

  I hand her the hairclip from my pocket. “Here you go,” I tell her gently. Like somehow having her hairclip back will make her feel better.

  She stares at it, her brow scrunching up. Then her eyes instantly turn all excited. “Is this a gift?”

  “Um …” I’m confused why she looks so happy. A gift?? What? “I just thought you might like it back.”

  Her brow scrunches up again. Then she looks—well, she looks disgusted actually.

  “It’s not mine,” she growls through gritted teeth, then she throws it at me as she runs away.

  See, I knew she didn’t make brownies.

  CHAPTER 29

  ***CADE***

  CADE

  For the rest of the day I try giving various girls back the hairclip. But it seems to belong to no one that I know. Which is a little disconcerting.

  However, I forget all about it as soon as I get to play rehearsal. Because I get to kiss Julie. Finally. I take her into my arms and the moment is magical—just as I knew it would be. I draw my mouth down to hers and feel her go weak in my arms as I deepen the kiss. Man, I feel sparks shooting between us. I’m in heaven—but then she is shockingly ripped away from me. Maaaaan. Torture. What kind of cruel brutality is this play? My happy heart had been pounding wild and thrilled, but now Julie is yanked from my enraptured mouth. Cruel play!

  Okay, yeah, the scene was written in the script exactly that way—I knew that. But man, what a blow. I want to pull her back to me, who cares about the stupid script?

  … well, okay, I guess she does.

  However, it’s nice that she looks as dizzy and breathless as me as she’s pulled away from my kiss. That’s pretty satisfying. Though not nearly as satisfying as having her in my arms. I want to get me some more of that.

  CHAPTER 30

  ***JULIE***

  JULIE

  Oh my gosh! I can NOT kiss Cade again. I just can’t. It was too much for me. He’s too much for me. He gets my heart pounding, and my head swooning, and my dreams gushing.

  I can’t do it.

  “Julie, are you okay?” my friend Darlene asks with concern as I stand in front of the dressing-room mirror all hunched-up like.

  She eyes me with worry. “You look sick.”

  “I am,” I tell her. “I can’t kiss Cade again.”

  She smiles sympathetically. “Well, you’re going to have to in about ten minutes—in front of a huge audience.”

  “And my boyfriend,” I grimace.

  Darleen nods, biting her lip. She’s been practicing my lines with me this whole week, being incredibly patient and sweet. She knows how I feel about the kiss—well, I guess she does. I didn’t actually know her very well before she joined the stage-crew, but she seems very understanding.

  She bites her lip some more, looking worried at the way I keep hunching over. (Can’t really blame her, right?) She asks cautiously, “You have some sort of anti-anxiety medicine, right?”

  I sigh. “Yeah, it’s in my purse.”

  She goes over to my purse and fishes it out for me. While she’s
doing this (necessary?) task, Cade peeks his head in the door. “You okay?” he asks me, looking worried as well. A tiny contrite-ish grin tugs on his lips, “People are saying you look worried.”

  “I’m fine,” I tell him, going up in flames, yet I try to sound breezy, “No worries. Darlene is taking care of me.”

  His eyebrows go up. “Oh, Darleen? She takes care of me too.”

  Now my eyebrows go up.

  It makes him chuckle. He explains, “She cleans my room like a boss.”

  “I am a boss,” she says playfully, handing me my pills and a glass of water. “Here you go, Julie—take these,” she says, sounding purposely bossy—for entertainment’s sake.

  But Cade doesn’t seem too entertained. “Pills?”

  He seems kind of worried, actually.

  … with good reason, I suppose. You know, since the last time he heard about me taking pills I’d—well, you know. Things hadn’t been exactly nothing-to-worry-about-like. Quite the opposite in fact.

  “They’re just anti-anxiety pills,” Darleen tells Cade. “Leave her alone, Cade. She’s anxious—because of you. Go away, she needs to take her pills.”

  Cade gives me another concerned look before he obeys her with a playful murmur, “Bossy.”

  Then he gives me yet another look before he reluctantly trudges away.

  My heart is beating wild from the way he had stared at me, and okay, because I’m going to kiss him again in about five minutes. I hurriedly turn back to the mirror to pile on more make-up, but then find I don’t need to. His presence put a blush on my face so bright that it could be sold for gold.

  So, I guess that’s done.

  However, as I’m adjusting my hat, suddenly I have to run for the bathroom. Where I barf. Then barf again.

  “Oh my gosh!” Darleen gasps. “You can’t kiss Cade in your condition.”

  I barf yet again.

  “Darleen,” I moan, “You know all my lines. You’re going to have to go on for me. Please.”

  She bites her lip, then nods, picking up my hat. “Okay,” she says.

  Then I hear her say, “Yabba-dabba.”

  But I’m too sick to try to figure out what that means.

  CHAPTER 31

  ***JULIE***

  JULIE

  From backstage I wipe my mouth, and weakly watch as Cade squints his eyes in confusion when Darleen comes on to the stage beside him instead of me. Curiously, he stares at the clip in her hair and his lips part. Instead of grabbing her and kissing her, he basically strangles the hat he just pulled off her head, though he was supposed to toss the hat and kiss her wild. Believe me, he’d had that part down pat when we rehearsed it yesterday. But now instead, he glares at the hairclip, and kills the hat—and seems to want to kill Darleen. Darleen doesn’t seem too damagingly daunted though, she pulls him to her, and kisses him passionately. Holy smokes!—she’s going to town.

  Cade hesitantly kisses her back—sort of—but he somewhat keeps her at arm’s length as he does it, and he seems kind of mad.

  What in the world is that about?

  I have no idea, but I can’t dwell on it since I have to race back to the bathroom to barf again.

  CHAPTER 32

  ***JULIE***

  JULIE

  Cade knocks softly on the open bathroom door before entering. I’m sitting against the wall near the toilet, prepared to heave again, though I finally seem to be through.

  Darleen is beside me, as her (er, my) scenes are over. She brought me wet paper towels, and seems sympathetic, which is nice, though I’d rather be alone at the moment. You know, since this isn’t exactly my finest hour, and I sort of want to curl into a ball and die.

  Cade eyes Darleen like she’s the devil, then his eyes go to me and turn all soft. Swoon!

  He clears his throat. “What were those pills she gave you?” he asks with an edge in his voice that he seems to be trying to control.

  “My anti-anxiety pills,” I croak out, though my voice is raw from throwing up so much.

  He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t think that’s what she gave you.”

  His eyes slam into Darleen. “What did you give her?”

  “Her—her pills.”

  He narrows his eyes at her, then tosses her a hairclip. It’s just like the one in her hair.

  “Never go near my room again,” he growls to her softly, his voice sounding dangerous.

  Darleen gasps as she stares at the hairclip, then she rushes out of the room in tears.

  Cade glares at her as she goes, then his eyes flicker back to me and turn soft again. “Don’t let her give you anymore pills,” he says. “The girl is psycho and I think she poisoned you—well, gave you something that made you so you couldn’t go on stage.”

  He says this as Ashton enters the bathroom. (It’s a handicap, non-gender bathroom, by the way. And it’s huge.) Ashton’s eyes dart between Cade and me, narrowing as he continues the darting. “What’s going on?” he asks.

  I shrug, shivering. (Poisoned?) I whisper, “I have no idea.”

  “I do,” Cade says, then adds, “—unfortunately.”

  But suddenly, Darleen is back. “You do not know,” she shrieks at him. “You have absolutely no clue.”

  Cade raises his eyebrows. He says flatly, “Pretty sure I do.”

  “You don’t! Maybe my hairclip just fell out of my hair the last time I cleaned your room!”

  Slowly Cade shakes his head. “I told my brother not to let you in my room when I’m not there. I don’t like people in my room when I’m not there—it’s my room.” He says it like he’s making it clear: stay out of it. Which any sane person would, after he had growled the order to her earlier. The danger in his voice had made me shiver. And it had made her burst into tears. But now she seems to be trying to stand her ground, though I actually have absolutely no idea what’s going on.

  She tells him insistently, “It just fell out of my hair the last time I cleaned your room.”

  He shakes his head again, so slowly. “My room was spotless after you cleaned it. There wasn’t a thing under my bed—I know because I’d looked. Because I was amazed.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be so mad at me!” Darleen squeakily insists.

  Cade’s jaw muscles flicker. “You poisoned Julie.”

  With a wince, Darleen’s eyes flicker to me, then back to Cade. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do,” he says. “Darleen, you need to get out of my sight before I lose my restraint, because I’m barely able to contain it right now.”

  She gasps, then tries to protest, “But—”

  “Go,” he says, barely above a whisper, but his voice is scary dark.

  She yelps and starts to run away, but then she turns back to him. “I’m not the only stalker here—you stalk Julie.”

  Both Ashton and I gush out, “What?!”

  Darleen’s eyes dart between us. “He follows her home from play rehearsals,” she tells Ashton. “And he has her picture for a screen-saver.”

  My heart jolts. “You follow me home?” I gasp to Cade.

  He squeezes eyes shut, then rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not the way it sounds. I just do it to make sure you get home okay. Face it, weird things have been going on with you lately.” Hesitantly he mutters, “You’re not exactly yourself sometimes.” He says it in this cryptic, confidential way, like he’s not sure if Ashton knows what I did with him that day—after taking the wrong prescription—and he doesn’t want to rat me out if Ashton doesn’t know.

  But Ashton knows exactly what he’s talking about. He growls, “You have her picture as a screen-saver?”

  “Her picture from the school yearbook,” Darleen informs him.

  Cade squeezes his eyes shut. For a tiny moment, it seems he’s going to speak, but then he closes his eyes again. He grunts and gives me a side-long look. “Yeah. Your picture is my screen-saver. Well, it was—until a stalker deleted it.”

  “You don’t seem in any position
to call anyone a stalker,” Ashton growls. “I can get your dad fired from his job—all I have to do is ask my dad to do it.”

  Darleen huffs. “You shouldn’t seem so against stalkers, Ashton. After all, you love that cheerleader Cheri stalking you—right? After all, she stalked you all the way up to New York when you went there without little Julie, here—and you loved it!”

  My heart sinks to the ground.

  Ashton opens his mouth, then slams it shut. Then opens it again. “No, don’t believe her Julie! She’s lying. She’s insane.”

  “Oh, am I? I have pictures,” Darleen says. “My sister is a manager of a bookstore and she made me go up to New York with her to a boring book convention, and guess what? We stayed at the same crappy hotel as Cheri—and her hotel room was right next to mine. And—” Darleen shows me a picture of Cheri and Ashton kissing in front of the Statue of Liberty.

  Tears well in my eyes.

  “Julie, I didn’t know she was coming,” Ashton shrieks. “She just showed up and—”

  “—you kissed her,” I growl flatly.

  He instantly changes tack. “Well, you wouldn’t come with me!”

  “So you made out with a cheerleader?” I growl. “You talk about us getting married Ashton—but how can I even think about marrying you? I can’t even trust you.”

  “Julie, you wouldn’t come with me.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be able to be with you every second we were married either.”

  “Julie—!”