“My dad took off before Missy was born,” I said. “So it’s been about seven years now.”
Jett dropped his gaze to the curb as he slid the side of his shoe against the rounded edge. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard for you guys. All of you.”
I nodded, wishing I could offer some sort of comfort over whatever he was going through now, but I couldn’t. Not unless he actually opened up to me about it. As far as the congregation knew, Cathy was taking care of her mother in Georgia; the last thing I wanted him to worry about was a bunch of town gossip.
When Jett didn’t offer more, I hurried into the car. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded. “See you.”
I shut the door, and Jett moved back a few steps as I roared up the engine. A million things raced through my mind as I caught sight of him in the rearview, his silhouette exuding that tall, brooding stature.
Part of me was very excited about the idea of seeing him every other night, even if it was just for some assignment. The other part of me was warring with guilt over the odd spark I felt when Jett smiled at me or held my gaze or spoke in that deep voice of his.
Sure, I was studying with Jett for school, I really was, but I was also fake-dating him to appease my mom and Jett didn’t even know it.
I sighed, forced my eyes off the rearview, and asked myself one very important question: “Harper, what in the world are you doing?”
Chapter Five
“How was your date with Jett Bryant last night?” Mom asked as she shuffled into the room.
I stared at the book in front of my face,Taming the Shrew, as I thought about how to answer. Not that I’d been reading it. What I’d been doing, instead, is thinking back on the way Jett had practically challenged me to kiss him. Every time I replayed the scene in my mind a deep thrill shot through my body. OfcourseI felt guilty about this delicious thrill but I could hardly stop the memory from resurfacing on what seemed to be every hour on the dot.
I was about to tell my mom that the date went fine when she spoke up again, this time hollering over her shoulder. “And are you ready for your first dance class, Missy Moo Moo?”
I dragged my eyes off my book and watched her for a moment, wondering if she’d forgotten already that she’d asked me about Jett.
“I’m ready,” Missy sang out. She appeared from the hallway in head-to-toe pale pink, including her tutu and slippers. She busted out a few moves that belonged more in a jazzercise class than a ballet studio but that was probably because she’d watched my mom work out to her exercise shows.
I lowered my book and watched the little twerp bop around for a minute. “Those are some pretty wild moves, sis,” I said before lifting the book back to eye level.
“Why, thank you,” she said. I wasn’t watching her anymore, but I could tell she was still dancing since her voice bounced and bumped.
“Homework’s all done, right?” my mom asked.
“Yep.” And most of it really was, thanks to my daily study hall class.
“So, is TJ coming to get you soon?”
I glanced up from my book once more.
My mom’s face was serious. “I don’t want you two alone here, remember?”
I held her gaze a minute longer. “It’s like you add a new rule about him every time. First I have to date someone in between and now we can’t even hang out here when you’re gone?”
The freshly trimmed ends of Mom’s bob fell around her chin as her shoulders dropped. She shot me one of thosereally!?looks and sighed. “Nice try. That one’s always been a rule. No being in the house alone with a boy.”
“’Because you’ll kiss too much,” Missy chimed while shaking her bum.
I looked back to my mom. “Yes. He’s coming to get me.”
“And where are you going?”
I tried to put a little excitement into my voice. “He wrote a new song, I guess, so he wants me to come watch them practice.”
Mom shook her head and ushered Missy into the garage. Once the door was all but closed, she spun back to me. “I’m telling you,” she said under her breath. “That boy is too much like your father. You don’t want to end up with a guy like him, trust me.” With that, she hurried after Missy and closed the door behind her. I set my eyes back on my book but all I could see was my dad, holding my hand as I padded along the wet sand to chase the tide with him. My dad wasn’t always so…troubled. He went back and forth, kind of, from what I understood.
First he was a bad boy when my mom fell for him, mainly because he drank too much, but when my mom wound up pregnant at just nineteen years old, he stepped up, sobered up, and married her. He helped raise me until I was ten years old. And even though Mom said he would come and go during that time, weaving in and out of addiction, I had a ton of happy memories with him. But something about those memories hurt too.
