Troy flashed her a smile and draped his arm over her shoulders. “Hey, Sunshine. Are things better or worse today?”
“Well, I’m not sure. Yesterday’s practice was sorta like dance team gone rabid. Apparently Lexi’s decided that I’m the reason you didn’t keep going out with her.”
“She can definitely keep that blame all to herself.” Troy walked toward their classroom, keeping her next to him. “So you’re saying I made things worse?”
“No, I think your stunt was enough to at least keep Ashlyn out of the rumors. I’m sure they’ll come up with much more insulting things to spread around about me soon, though.”
“So you don’t need me to be your pretend boyfriend anymore?”
She looked at him, the words I need you to be my real one on the tip of her tongue. She wasn’t that bold, though. Just give me a hint. Something that says you want to be more than friends.
“Hey, Troy!” a guy yelled across the hall.
Troy gave the guy the nod. “What’s up, Tiny?”
Tiny? The guy had light brown skin and an eyebrow piercing, was built like a linebacker, and had the deepest voice she’d ever heard in the halls of school. Calling him Tiny seemed like a good way to get punched in the face.
“Need to talk to you,” Tiny said, jerking his head toward a less crowded area.
Troy dropped his arm from Summer’s shoulders. “I’ll catch up with you in a second. Make sure no one takes my seat.”
In other words, you need me to get lost. As Summer turned to walk into chemistry alone, her chest tightened. Why oh why, hadn’t she said she needed a pretend boyfriend for a little while? Maybe the pretend part could drop off in time. After seeing him again today, she knew what she hadn’t admitted to herself last night. She was already crazy about Troy, on the verge of getting hurt all over again if it went badly. And of course now she was only more curious about his extracurricular activities.
What exactly is he doing that makes him so popular with everyone, that he also wants kept a secret?
Before lunch, Summer walked up to Troy, determined to figure him out. “How were your last few classes?”
“Boring. I prefer chemistry where I have you to talk to.” He tugged on her broken belt loop. “I like your pants, by the way. I see you’re taking this whole rebel thing very seriously.”
Purple paint from when she and Mom had painted Summer’s bedroom back in Chicago was splattered across the denim, and both knees had huge holes with white fringe hanging down the sides. “These used to be my favorite jeans. I still can’t find any that fit this good, so I can’t bear to throw them away. Honestly, it’s more of a sign of needing to do laundry than rebellion, though.”
Another tug on her belt loop. “Well, whatever the reason, I say go with it.” He glanced at the large clock hanging on the cafeteria wall. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll catch you later.”
He turned to leave and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “It seems you’re always rushing off, like you’re late to your underground resistance meeting or something.”
He threw his fist up. “Viva la resistance,” he said with a laugh. “Did you need something else before I go? You have another problem I can help you with?”
“Don’t you get sick of helping me with my problems?” she asked.
“No.” He stepped closer, and he was studying her so closely that heat crept into her neck, across her cheeks. Now she felt stupid. “I’m happy to help. Whatever you need. You know that.”
It took her a couple of seconds to find her voice again, but she figured now was as good a time as any to get answers. “Do you get sick of me?”
He frowned. “Why would you think that?”
“I just want to make sure.” Summer couldn’t figure him out. Sometimes he seemed to be all about her; other times he was in a huge hurry to get away. If he was as interested in her as she was in him, he’d want to stay, right? Or was she being needy? Ugh, liking him was making everything too complicated. Maybe she should just leave it as friends and forget about the kiss. Her gaze automatically drifted to his lips.
He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m not trying to get away from you, I swear. But I really do have to go.”
“Okay, later then.” Frustration filled her as he walked away, and she wondered how she was going to get control over her sudden, overwhelming feelings for him on top of everything else.
Unfortunately, some problems you just have to fix yourself.
Clothes lay in piles all around Summer’s room, and she decided the laundry couldn’t wait any longer. Mrs. Crawford had sent her to the office earlier today. Apparently, the school has a dress code they sporadically enforce, and ripped jeans happened to be on the bad list. If she didn’t do her laundry, she’d have to wear the ripped jeans again, along with the kitty shirt Dad had bought her when she was in junior high. The other girls from the team had plenty of ammunition to throw at her already without adding a shirt that had never been cool in the first place.
She gathered her clothes into a giant heap and scooped as many items in her arms as she could carry. She spun around to take them to the laundry room.
And found herself face-to-face with Gabriella.
“Holy crap!” The clothes dropped to the floor as Summer threw her hand over her heart. “Could you give a girl a little warning? I’m going to die of a heart attack before I can help anyone else.”
Gabriella cocked a brow. “I assumed you could sense it better. And I don’t like that saying, by the way. There’s no such thing as holy…most anything you people put after it, but especially not that.”
“Well, my mom said it all the time.”
“I hated it when she said it, too. In fact, she used the more profane version for years. I finally got her to break that, but she only swapped it for crap. Not much better, if you ask me.”
Summer stared at Gabriella as the impact of the words hit her. “Wait? You knew my mom?”
Gabriella’s eyes widened. “I… You see…” She sighed. “Yes, I knew her. Under normal circumstances, mothers are the ones who train their daughters for their Cipher jobs. But yours…ran out of time.”
Summer tried to get words out, but it took her a few seconds of unintelligible squeaks before she finally succeeded. “Why didn’t you mention that before?”
“It’s not easy, trying to figure out how much I can tell you. What will push you over the edge, what’s helpful and what’s not. I planned on mentioning it later, after you finished your job with Ashlyn, because I was afraid talking about your mother might slow you down. And honestly, dear, you’re working way too slowly already.”
“You didn’t think it might help me?”
Gabriella leaned a hip against the dresser. “You already had a hard time believing it all, and I was fairly certain bringing her into it would result in anger and most likely being called a liar. Plus, I know it’s a sensitive subject for you, and I didn’t want to make this more difficult.”
As much as she wanted to argue, Summer was still having trouble wrapping her mind around it. Gabriella knew Mom. But how? And when? And why didn’t she ever say anything?
“Wait. If she was supposed to train me, that must mean she was a Cipher, too.”
Gabriella nodded. “Her first case was shortly after her nineteenth birthday. Debra was a natural. In a matter of minutes, she’d get people to agree to whatever she wanted them to do.”
“She was good like that,” Summer said. “I remember when she talked me into wearing pigtails the first day of fourth grade, even though I argued I was too old. She also convinced me to help her teach some of the people at the nursing home to square dance—that ended up being pretty fun actually.” She smiled at all the things Mom had persuaded her to do.