“They didn’t fire you?”
“I was surprised too. I think it’s a matter of keeping me close so they can keep an eye on me. And the fact that I’m wicked good at my job doesn’t hurt.”
I jumped up to hug her. “I’m so glad it worked out for you, Mom.”
“I know you can do the community service,” she said, “but can you really stay away from Leo?”
I nodded. “I wish I could say goodbye though.”
“You can.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “He’s supposed to call you in the next hour. Now, eat before it gets cold.”
I picked up my fork. At least I could say goodbye.
Mom and I had just put the dishes in the dishwasher when the phone rang.
My heart stopped.
“I’ll let you have some privacy,” Mom said.
She walked out of the kitchen, and I went to pick up the cordless from the charger.
“Hello.”
“Jen.” Leo’s voice sent shivers through me.
“Hey. I’m glad they let you call,” I said around the lump in my throat. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s great,” Leo said. “He and Katie are getting married on Saturday.”
“That’s great.” Too bad I couldn’t get anywhere near there.
“This is the last time we get to talk, Jen. Ever.” He sighed. “They’re watching us pretty hard.”
“Yeah, Mom told me.” I couldn’t think of all the things I wanted to say. People were probably listening to us.
“I’m sorry I got you into so much trouble.”
A smiled curved my lips. “I’m not.”
“I’m transferring back to my old school, and I guess you finally get the spot in Ian’s band.”
Funny, I hadn’t thought about it in days.
“Take care of yourself, Jen.”
“You too.” I didn’t want the call to end. I was never going to see Leo again. My first real kiss. My first motorcycle ride. My first real guy friend. “I’ll miss you,” I said.
“I’ll miss you too.”
My eyes were tearing up. “Bye, Leo.”
I hung up the phone, and just sat there with my head on the counter. I had feelings for Leo. I had it bad for him, and I wasn’t allowed to see him again.
Mom left me to myself for most of the afternoon. I crawled back into bed to reminisce about my time with Leo. I emptied two boxes of tissues, only one for my nose.
At dinner, I had to listen to Ian whine about Leo quitting the band.
“I’m so sorry,” Mom said. “If only there were a way to replace him with someone who knows all your songs.”
“Not now, Mom,” Ian said.
“Jen’s the perfect answer and you know it.”
I just pushed my food around on my plate.
Two weeks later, I was completely caught up on my school work. I’d doubled my practice time on the drums.
Ian hadn’t made a decision about the band yet. I wasn’t sure I wanted the reminder of Leo.
My truce with Sean was still in effect, and I’d started helping him with his homework.
After laying out my clothes on the bed, I walked over to the framed quote from Thomas Jefferson. Well, to anyone else, the frame held a quote. I knew the truth. The writing on the note card was actually a personal thank you from Thomas Jefferson for my work in ferreting out Maximillian.
He had written, “Action will delineate and define you.” So what if he’d said it before. The point was, he’d written it to me and signed it with his unmistakable signature, the Thomas running right into the Jefferson. My parents had each assured me that he was recognizing me for having the courage to act. Not too shabby for a seventeen-year-old genie.
And tonight, me and my friends were going to see Johnny’s Metal Chicken in concert. Things were looking up.
Three hours later, the band was just finishing their second number, and Alex and I were dancing in the aisle.
They played the last note, and Alex screamed in frenzied appreciation.
Before I could let out my own appreciative woo-hoo, the guy who’d been dancing behind me, brushed against me.
I turned and started to give him a warning glance about trying to cop a feel.
And then I froze. Because the guy in the backwards baseball cap and Johnny’s Metal Chicken Concert Tour t-shirt had Leo’s eyes and five o’clock shadow. The stringy blond hair and baggy, hip hop pants almost threw me.
“Be cool,” he said softly. “Keep your eyes on the stage. They’re probably watching you.”
I faced the band. “What about monitoring?”
“Tons of technology here,” he said, and I glanced around at all the cameras, cell phones, and sound equipment.
“Aren’t they watching you?”
“Lost my tail somewhere between Lennox and Underground Atlanta, the bus, and the taxi.”
The band started the soft notes of the next song, and Leo moved closer. “Jen, I found a girl at my school who’s on your RokrGirlz loop. Baitbreath. I’ll communicate with you through her posts, using her cell.”
Baitbreath? She went to his school?
“I’ve got a few ideas about how we can see each other. I’ll let you know when we can meet.”
I turned in surprise. “Really?”
“Turn around,” he said, his familiar smile warming my heart, “and dance. I’ll be in touch.”
“Soon?” I asked. But when I glanced back over my shoulder, he had already faded back into the crowd.
The guitar solo started, and beside me, Alex threw her arms in the air.
I moved to the rhythm and gave a shout that got lost in the noise of the energetic crowd.
Maybe things were going to be okay after all.
Maybe Leo wasn’t totally out of my life.
Keep reading for a sneak peek at Pointe of No Return by Amanda Brice and My Life as the Ugly Stepsister by Juli Alexander.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Juli Alexander writes young adult romances and paranormal young adult fiction. THE KARMA BEAT will be followed by the sequel—THE TECHNO ECHO—in early 2013. Check out STIRRING UP TROUBLE and the sequel—TROUBLE’S BREWING. STIRRING UP TROUBLE and VALENTINE’S DAY SUCKS are available now at all retailers. TROUBLE’S BREWING will be released summer 2012. Look for MY LIFE AS THE UGLY STEPSISTER in May 2012. Don’t forget to check out the YA anthology, ETERNAL SPRING, featuring “CAMP CAULDRON” by Juli Alexander.
Juli’s house is overrun with dogs, dirty laun
dry, and teenage boys. Writing keeps her relatively sane. You can find her at JuliAlexanderAuthor.com or on Twitter @Juli_Alexander.
A VERY SPECIAL SNEAK PEEK:
POINTE OF NO RETURN
BOOK TWO IN THE DANI SPEVAK MYSTERIES
BY
AMANDA BRICE
CHAPTER 1
Normally it would be pervy for a middle-aged man to touch a teenager’s rear. But there hasn’t been anything normal about my life ever since I moved to Arizona earlier this fall.
“Miss Spevak, your lines are a disgrace.”
“Point your toes!”
“Posture, Miss Spevak! Lift your carriage and lengthen your body!”
“You ladies dance like apes!”
“How many times do I have to tell you to tuck your buttocks?”
That last one might be cause for sexual harassment complaints anywhere else, but not here. I’m a student at Mountain Shadows Academy of the Arts, majoring in dance. I divide my days between ballet and Biology, tap and Trigonometry, hip hop and History, latin and Latin.
“Well, Miss Spevak?” Grigor Dmilov, the legendary principal dancer from the Phoenix Ballet, towered over my five-foot-three frame. His dark eyes bored into me as he pretended to wait for an answer that didn’t really matter since the question was rhetorical anyway – dancers aren’t allowed to talk in class. He used to intimidate me when I first came here.
Oh, who am I kidding? He still intimidates me. I just don’t cry in the shower after class anymore.
Much.
The difference now is that I know corrections are an important part of the process. We spend six hours every day in the studio, striving for perfection. Sometimes it felt like our teachers loved to torture us, but they were just trying to get us to live up to our potential and beyond. Getting corrections was a compliment because it showed that the teachers wanted to nurture your talent.
Not being noticed at all was far more damaging to your career. Nobody wanted to be invisible.