Playing the Player(20)

Talk about mixed messages.

One day she wanted me to go to the prom in a Cinderella carriage, the next she wanted me to be like Katniss and take down the whole system. Maybe that’s what happened when you were left with only one kid to pin all your hopes and dreams on.

I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that could block out the painful memories.

“That doesn’t make sense, sweetie.” Mom sounded concerned. “Why would Max’s mom hire someone who wasn’t qualified?”

I hated lying to my mom. I shoved more cold waffle into my mouth and chewed.

“He’s…um…I guess he’s not that bad. He’s not endangering them or anything.”

Not yet, anyway.

She watched me closely, a tiny smile quirking her lips. “So maybe the issue you have is different…styles?”

I shrugged. “That’s one way to put it.”

Mom nodded and drained her mug of coffee sludge. “Do I know this boy?”

“No,” I said. “He’s going to be a senior, like me, but I don’t think you’ve ever met him.”

She stood up to stretch. “Too bad you have to work today. We could’ve hung out together.”

A twinge of guilt flickered through me. “Maybe tomorrow? Pedicures?”

Her face fell. “I wish we could, hon, but I can’t afford it this month.”

“But I can. I get paid today.”

Mom looked at me quizzically. “You’re not making that much, T. And I want you to save most of your salary for college expenses.”

I swished the last bite of waffle in the syrup. I always saved the money I earned, but once in a while I wanted to splurge, especially on my mom.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

She ruffled my hair. “I’m sorry, T. Maybe next month.”

I wondered just how much of Slade’s crap I’d be willing to put up with to earn a double salary for the rest of the summer.



Slade was just getting out of his car as I parked in front of Max’s house. Gilly expelled a dreamy sigh. Tall and tanned, his golden brown hair glinting under the bright sun—I definitely got why Gillian was lovestruck. Thank God I had more sense than a five-year-old.

“He’s so cute,” Gillian said from her booster seat. “You should be his girlfriend, Trina.” She wrapped her arms around Spike, who’d come with us for the day. He licked her face and she giggled. “Let’s go already!” Gillian unbuckled herself and reached for the car door handle, but since the child locks were on she couldn’t escape.

I jolted out of my daze. “Hang on, Gillian.”

As soon as I released her, she shoved past me and charged up the sidewalk while I put on Spike’s leash. Slade bent to pick her up and then twirled her around, laughing. Her squeals of delight were loud enough to hear two states away.

Once he’d set her down, Slade waited for me while Gillian danced around him like a adoring groupie. I struggled to get a grip on the feelings roiling inside of me: guilt about the secret double salary, guilt about trying to get Slade fired, and anxiety that I didn’t have enough lavender oil to get through the day.

“Hey.” I tried to sound casual, reminding myself that I was Bird Brain to him. Nothing more.

His teeth glinted white against his tanned skin as he smiled. He reached up to pull back his hair, tying it with that stupid shoelace. “Hey, Clemons. We’ve almost survived a whole week together. We both deserve a medal.” His grin was like the sun, radiant and warm.

Immune, I told myself. You. Are. Immune.

Max flung open the door, and Gillian transferred her dancing and squealing adoration to him.

Mrs. Gonzales appeared in the doorway. “So, you all are hanging out here today?” She stepped back as we crowded into the foyer.

“Yes,” I said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Fine with me.” She stuffed papers into the briefcase hanging off her shoulder.

Slade leaned against the banister. “Trina’s in charge. Apparently I’m just the copilot.”

Mrs. Gonzales shot me a conspiratorial wink. I hoped to God Slade didn’t see it.

“Fabulous,” she said. “I’m running late. See you kids tonight!” She hugged Max and bustled away. We heard a door slam, then she flung it open again, hollering that she’d made a batch of fresh cookies.

“Those cookies are calling my name.” Slade brushed past me, the touch of his shoulder making me sniff my wrist.

“Naked party!” Gillian screeched. Before I could stop her, she’d peeled off her sundress and shot up the stairs in her swimsuit. Max followed her, giggling, with Spike in pursuit.

I followed Slade into the kitchen. He handed me a cookie, still warm from the oven.

“I wish my mom baked like this,” he said around a mouthful of chocolate chip.

“Me, too.” I took a bite and swallowed. “My mom’s a horrible cook.”

Slade cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah? Mine’s okay, I guess. She’s just super healthy. We don’t have any sugar in the house. Just agave and honey.”

I remembered the horrible granola bars and was impressed he didn’t slam his mom’s cooking.

Slade slid into a kitchen chair and gestured for me to join him. “So did Gillian’s mom bribe you with cookies when she interviewed you?”