The '68 Camaro Between Kenickie and Me (Pacifica Academy Drama Book 2) Read online

  “I’m going to try to behave while getting us out of here. It doesn’t take much to get this car going.” He tapped the gas pedal, and the car roared and lunged forward.

  We laughed together, and I briefly caught his eyes. Warm tingles filled me up. Especially as it struck me he’d gone to all this trouble for me. For my birthday.

  I had to ask, “Why did you do all this for me? You barely know me.”

  “That’s not true. And I wanted to.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t want to sound like a jerk,” he began as he stayed focused on the road, “and I know you said staying here was your choice. But it kind’ve…pissed me off your parents left you for your birthday.” He glanced at me and smiled. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

  I hadn’t expected him to say all that and smiled since it sounded like he honestly cared about me. But true friends did care about each other, and I remembered my birthday surprise from yesterday. Something Ella and Quinn had never—no. I so didn’t want to think about them.

  “Thanks,” I murmured. “For all this.” I hesitated before adding, “Being here for spring break hasn’t been terrible. I’m really glad I didn’t go with my parents.”

  We drove up to a stoplight, and he rolled his head in my direction. “Me, too.”

  I bit my lower lip, then asked, “What are we doing today?”

  His smile grew. “It’s a surprise. So sit back, relax and…be you.”

  After the stress of the last couple weeks, last week in particular, everything he said sounded like bliss. I just wanted to be here, with him, free and clear from reality.

  “And now that we’re out of your neighborhood,” he continued in a lowered voice, “are you ready to have some fun?”

  I glanced at him, his wicked smile infectious as I said, “Drive like you stole it.”

  “Whatever the birthday girl says.” He looked all around, probably for a cop, and his eyes settled on my seat belt.

  He gave me a quick wink, and we waited.

  The light turned green, and when Shane hit the gas pedal, the AMX flew forward and my head jerked back. But he smoothly shifted the gears.

  Laughter bubbled out of me as he actually sped up and zipped around a car going much slower. We also just missed the next light.

  I eyed him. “Where’d you learn to drive like this?” Because this…bad boy side of him, combined with his confidence driving a 70 AMX, was so Incredibly. Hot.

  To the degree I had to catch my breath.

  “My brother,” he answered while we missed yet another light.

  Of course.

  I ripped my eyes off of him to roll down my window. I needed air. And my hair started to blow around my head as I took a deep inhale and exhale.

  “I’m thinking,” he said above the wind barreling into the car, “we should time how fast we can make it across the Golden Gate.”

  I laughed again while shaking my head. “Whatever you say, Kenickie.”

  I then relaxed into my seat and smiled at my sudden feeling of…naughtiness.

  We walked to where the ocean’s surf met dry sand, and I breathed in the salty air.

  He’d taken us the scenic way down Highway 1 to the Half Moon Bay Area and pulled off at one of the beaches.

  Up until now, I’d completely let go of all the school drama. The weight had lifted the further we got away from the city. From reality. But with the scenic drive, and ending up on a beach with only us and some people here and there walking along the shore, I couldn’t stop one thought—this was so feeling like a first date.

  A huge wave thundered, then broke apart on the water’s surface. The surf rumbled toward our bare feet, but gradually drifted backward to get lost in another approaching wave.

  I stared at the open water and wanted to swim toward the hazy horizon. Battling the frigid water and hypothermia seemed much better than reminding him—us—we were just friends.

  I opened my mouth, but fear grabbed a hold of me and I blurted out, “You look really good today.”

  He released a quick laugh. “Thanks. Do I normally look really bad?”

  I guess I had sounded a little surprised, and I, in total frustration with myself, started walking north. He fell into step beside me.

  “No. Never.” I mentally groaned and glanced over to find him looking at me with raised eyebrows. While trying not to smile. “It’s just…you didn’t look like yourself on Saturday. Because of what happened with you and Maddie?” And now we were out together, not even a week later, on what could be called a date. But he’d agreed we were just friends.

  His face darkened for several seconds before he shrugged and said, “It was a long week. I was tired and not in the mood to work on the set.”

  I responded with silence since what he’d said made sense. But why the dark look? And he really hadn’t answered my Maddie question.

  “But it’s cool you think I never look bad,” he added.

  I looked right and found him smiling again. That smile.

  “Okay,” he said in a serious-but-playful-way voice, “I now know you have a dog named Chloe. You become a bit of a…devil when you’re in a badass muscle car. Which is very cool.”

  I laughed. At his teasing. And compliment. And him, once again, changing the subject.

  “You hate old music.”

  We’d gotten into a brief…thing…about music when he’d tried to keep the radio on some station his dad had programmed that played old rock. But being the birthday girl I’d won, and he’d changed the station to an alternative rock channel.

  “You have a house on Oahu because you go every Christmas to see your mom’s family.”

  Something I’d told him during our chat about our families. I’d found out his brother, newly engaged, lived in Burlingame. His sister, Aubrey, was a sophomore and journalism major at NYU. But he’d explained it as his sister “escaping California to do her own thing.” The tone of his voice had told me he admired her for leaving. He also admitted if he were ever to steal a classic muscle car, it would be his brother’s Chevelle, which made me smile.

  “What do you want to do after college? I can’t see you in the family business.”

  I huffed. “No. I’d rather jump into the ocean and swim to Hawaii than be stuck in that office all day, everyday.” But saying that out loud made me sound ungrateful. I added, “I appreciate how hard my gramps worked and now my dad. But it’s not for me.”

  “I get it. Believe me. So what do you want to do? Something with old cars?” he teased.

  I smiled since I did like the idea of turning an old car into something fast and beautiful. “I think working in a shop like your family’s would be fun.”

  “Wow.” He laughed. “I was kidding. But I can also see it. The—” He cleared his throat. “The hot girl who knows how to restore old cars. Like on some of those car shows?”

  I giggled. “It could be fun.” My smile faded, though, when I thought about how my mother would react to that as a career choice. “I don’t know what I want to do yet. But I do know I’m going to load up my Camaro next summer and go to college far away from here.” I, remembering how he’d answered my question to him being in charge of the shop someday, asked, “What about you? It doesn’t seem like you want to be in the family business, either.”

  “I don’t. I want to study Marine Biology.”

  I stopped walking, then he stopped, and I turned toward him. “Are you being serious?” He didn’t seem like the scientist type. Not that scientists couldn’t be hot with blue eyes to match.

  He nodded. “I want to study sharks.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You mean, you want to be one of those crazy guys who willingly dives into shark-infested water? Without the cage?”

  He laughed. “That’s part of what I’ll do, but, yeah. Sharks are really misunderstood.”

  And he couldn’t figure me out?

  “How’d you get into Marine Biology?”

  “I love the ocean. Not an original answer
. But I love it more than restoring old cars.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Do your parents know this about you?”

  His smile fell. “I’ve told them. They’ll be paying my college tuition. And my mom sort’ve gets it. But my dad…” His eyes wandered away from mine. “He wants me to go to college for business. He has this dream of me and my brother running the shop. Which is weird. The shop doesn’t need me. My brother can handle it and wants to.”

  The confusion and frustration I heard in his voice caused me to clasp his left hand and give it a quick squeeze, which made him look down.

  I never would’ve guessed Shane would be up against what he wants versus what his dad wants. The Eastons didn’t seem like that kind of family. And we apparently had way more in common than classic muscle cars.

  We wanted to break free from our families. Our last names.

  He lifted his gaze from our hands, and our eyes snapped together. Like magnets.

  He gently pulled me toward him and warning sirens went off in my head. He pulled me so close he could slip his arms around me. And the huge part of me who wanted to shove just friends aside began trembling at his closeness, and the fact he, as usual, smelled as good as he looked. But I found the strength to place my shaky hands on his chest.

  He lowered his head, and I said, “Shane, we need to talk.”

  He blinked and raised his head. “Did you call me by name?”

  I groaned, stepped backward, and my feet sunk into wet sand. “You’re so not changing the subject this time.”

  “Sorry. You saying my name surprised me. What do you want to talk about?”

  His smile turned wicked, and he looked so adorable I wanted to throw myself into his arms and finish the kiss we started. Twice.

  I dropped my eyes to watch the cold surf cover my feet, then rush backward.

  I had to tell him the truth. As much as I hated it. Telling him the truth might also bring this awesome day, my birthday, to a swift end. But staying friends would be best. For both of us.

  I looked up at him and forced myself to say, “Shane, we have to stay just friends.”

  Confusion filled his eyes and face until he…grinned. “Okay.” His eyes now gleamed with a hint of challenge. “I’ll give you three chances to give me one, really convincing reason why you think that. If you do, we’ll stay ‘just friends.’”

  I squinted at him as another wave pummeled my feet and ankles.

  This was so not the reaction I’d been expecting. Challenging me, sure. But not like this. There were many reasons why we had to stay friends.

  I crossed my arms and leaned forward. “Reason one. We’ll be socially destroyed.”

  He also leaned forward. “Nope. Not convincing. Because the Natalie I know is in you doesn’t care what the kids at school think.”

  I wanted to be the Natalie he believed in, but said, “I do care. I’m already the bitch nobody at school wants to mess with. If we get together, I’ll be the bitch who broke you two up.”

  His humor vanished. “Stop calling yourself that. Because that isn’t who you are. And you won’t be alone in the gossip. But my friends and your real friends won’t care.”

  His words were incredibly sweet but…what the hell had he meant by my real friends wouldn’t care?

  “Natalie, I…like you. A lot.” He found my eyes. “I wasn’t expecting this.” He gestured at me and himself. “I didn’t expect you to be…who you really are.”

  He liked the real me. I’d never heard that from a boy. Or friend.

  My breathing slowed.

  “I want to be more than friends and...I know you do, too.”

  I remained silent. It’s not like I could argue with him.

  “So, here’s a new deal,” he continued in a businesslike voice. “If I can’t change your mind by the end of today, we’ll stay ‘just friends.’ Okay?” He held out his hand.

  This determined side of him, because he did want to be with me, caused me stare at his hand. At the same time, it made me smile. Because I liked it. A lot.

  I hesitated as I ran through everything he’d just said to me, then squelched my apprehension and grasped his hand. A little thrill shot through me as we shared a firm handshake.

  And at not knowing what else he had planned for the day.

  Chapter 18

  I stared at the white roller skates hugging my feet. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. I haven’t roller skated since I was thirteen.” I gave him a pretend glare. “I blame you taking me to lunch.” Which had turned this awesome day into a first date.

  His mouth opened in pretend outrage. “Stopping for food is what happens when a girl tells a guy she’s hungry. Especially when it’s her birthday.” He faced the rink. “And skating’s like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it.”

  We stood where we could enter the dimly lit, near empty rink. Several multi-colored lights hit the floor in various spots and the floor looked a little on the slick side. There were some moms with their kids, us and two guys who worked here. It was a Wednesday afternoon and the quiet meant less chance of hurting anyone with our rusty skating skills. But the Top 40 pop song playing right now sucked.

  I looked at Shane while remembering the deal we made at the beach. “I’ll give you points for originality, Kenickie. But this music is going to drive me nuts.”

  He carefully stepped onto the rink’s floor. “It’s skating music. Stop trying not to have fun and let’s go.” He skated away from me.

  And I decided to check out his super cute butt. His super cute everything.

  How had I never really noticed him at school the last few years? Because he was one of the hottest boys at Pacifica Academy. Easily top five. Had I been so self-absorbed and against high school boys? The answer came fast, and I frowned. I couldn’t even remember why I refused to look at high school boys. I’d never even given one a chance. Just adopted Ella and Quinn’s attitude about—my frown deepened.

  What else had I missed being Ella and Quinn’s Natalie?

  He skated back to me. “Hey. Why do you look serious all of a sudden?” His hypnotic blue eyes filled with concern.

  I didn’t like seeing him looking at me that way, so I smiled and said, “Just psyching myself up for this.” Another lie, but a necessary one.

  He took my left hand and helped me out onto the rink.

  As we got comfortable skating, a group of girls, who looked about thirteen, skated by us. They giggled together and were being so obvious they thought Shane was cute.

  I glanced at him to find him glancing at me, and I knew my glowing insides showed on the outside as my smile inched into a bigger one.

  I teasingly said, “Those girls who just passed us think you’re cute.”

  He gave them a pained expression. “Great. Little girls think I’m cute.”

  “They have to be around thirteen. And I’d be looking at you—” I stopped myself, and he smiled. That smile.

  “The truth finally comes out.” He took my left hand and laced our fingers together.

  Holding his hand did feel right. Safe. And I sighed. But not out loud.

  “So, Kenickie,” I said, pulling a Shane-worthy subject change, “is it terrifying performing for the entire school?” I wanted his honest opinion since being in the competition would be the polar opposite of my comfort zone.

  “It’s pretty fucking awesome. Once the nervousness goes away.” He squeezed my hand. “Stage fright doesn’t kill you. It’s easier to be on stage with other people, too.”

  Hopefully.

  One of the guys who worked at the rink whizzed by us, skating backward.

  “That’s so cool. He makes it look easy.”

  “It is easy.”

  Shane looked at me. “You know how to skate backward?”

  I released his hand and skated ahead of him. I felt ten times more comfortable and confident after going around with him. I then, and a bit wobbly, turned backward and skated in time with the newest song playin
g, “Paris” by The Chainsmokers. A song and band I liked.

  He smiled. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

  I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t about to slam into anything. Or anyone. “Figure-skating lessons. My mother’s second try at making me more like her. A girlie-girl.”

  “What else did she have you do?”

  I faced him. “Beauty pageants, big shocker there, and ballet lessons.”

  I rolled to a stop, which caused him to stop.

  “But you’re really a tomboy.”

  “Yep.” I shrugged. “That’s what the beauty queen got.”

  His smile faded. “It sounds like she’s really hard on you.”

  I nodded. “She wants me to be someone I’m not.”

  “I get that,” he mumbled.

  Something about the way he said that, and his frustrated expression I totally understood, made me want to skate closer and slip my arms around his waist. Hug him like I wanted to hug him on Saturday. But then he took my hand again.

  “Teach me to skate backward.”

  I stared at him.

  Shane Easton. Master at changing the subject.

  “Right now?” I asked.

  “No. At the beach, Sunshine.” We skated closer to the wall to be out of the few other skaters’ way, and he gave me a blinding smile. “Okay. Now what.”

  I had to smile at his pretty cute enthusiasm. “Just…watch and copy me.”

  “I can definitely handle watching you.”

  “Would you be serious?”

  He exaggerated a scowl and mock saluted me.

  I rolled my eyes, skated forward and glided backward. He tried copying me, but couldn’t turn. Or keep his momentum. Then he started basically scooting backward on skates.

  I skated right back, rolled in front of him and stopped. I grasped his—really firm upper arms—and faintly said, “I’m…going to skate and push you.”

  He definitely worked hard to keep himself in shape.

  I slowly skated, pushing him backward. My eyes went to watching behind him and back to him. This went on for a bit, and I tried to ignore his goofy smile.

  “I could seriously get used to this,” he said in a low voice that gave me goosebumps beneath my snug sweatshirt.