Stirring Up Trouble (Stirring Up Trouble Trilogy 1)

“Oh, please. You know you don’t mind. Plus, I had to get rid of him.” In her best drama queen, she added, “He was driving me crazy. You know. I think he’s unbalanced.”

“So you send him to my house.” Okay, I know I unbalanced him myself, but she doesn’t know that.

“Well, yeah. Oh, I gotta go. Jake’s here.”

“Jake’s at your house?”

“No. I’m at his house. Well, on his porch. He just got home. Gotta go.”

“Anya!”

No answer. I clicked the phone shut.

Of all the nerve, she was so hitting on Jake.

Mom woke me up early on Tuesday morning to say goodbye. She had to leave early to start on the bathroom remodel across town.

“Ride the bus home, okay?”

“Mmmm,” I groaned. I hated riding the bus. My neck hurt from sleeping on the text I’d been reading last night. I hated when I did that. I sat up and closed A Treatise on Potions (eighth edition) by Dr. Finnegan. I carefully placed the book on my nightstand. I practically knew it by heart, but I didn’t want my well-worn copy falling apart.

“If I get finished early enough,” she said, “I’ll come get you and we can make the six o’clock step class.”

“Cool,” I said.

“Good luck, Mom,” I called after her. She always liked it when I showed I cared.

I climbed out of bed and pulled on the worn jeans, bra, and pink cardigan I’d laid out the night before. Mom liked to buy me pink. I usually tried to avoid wearing it, but I looked really good in this sweater.

When I sat down in homeroom next to Jake, I caught him looking at the sweater. I think he liked it on me too.

“Hey,” he said. “Did you have a good weekend?”

“Yeah. You?”

He nodded. “I got to hang out with Larry at his new place.”

I had wondered if he was going to be seeing Larry now that Larry and Sheree had split. I knew he viewed Larry as a father-figure. They’d done a lot of hiking and camping, just the two of them. I wasn’t sure what the deal was with his real dad. No one had ever told me. “That’s good. What’d you guys do?”

With a shrug, he said, “Nothing really. Saw a couple of movies.”

“I guess we’ll be watching our parents date again this weekend.” I grimaced. “If this keeps up we’ll end up being brother and sister.”

He shuddered. “Eew. Don’t ever say that. You are so not my sister.”

“Thank God.” I couldn’t think of anything worse right then than being his sister. He wouldn’t kiss his sister, and I really liked his kisses.

“Yeah,” he echoed over the buzz of voices in the classroom. “Thank God.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to gross you out.”

“That’s okay,” he said with a smile. “Who cares about our parents? We have our dance on Friday.”

“Right.” I couldn’t wait. I had the whole romantic dance scenario in my head. A real Cinderella fantasy.

The announcements came on over the intercom, and I took a moment to envision myself dancing in Jake’s arms.

When I walked into the noisy cafeteria, I saw Anya sitting with Jake and Brad at one of the tables. Jake motioned me over, a bit frantically to tell the truth. Anya was either trying to get as close to Jake or as far from Brad as she could.

“Hey guys,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Oh,” Anya said, moving away from Jake just a smidgen when I walked up. “Hey, Zoe.” She had a yogurt in front of her.

“Where’s Camille?” I asked. I set down my backpack.

Anya shrugged. “She didn’t show.”

Brad and Jake had already gotten their lunches too. “I guess I’ll be right back.”

Jake jumped up, extracting his arm from Anya’s grip. “I’ll come with you. I need some chips.”

“Okay,” I said. This was weird. Although, not bad weird. He’d rather come with me back through the line than sit with Anya.

“Thank God!” Jake said as we made our way to the serving area. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why’s Anya hanging on you?”

“I’m thinking she wants to get back together.” He leaned closer to whisper as we got in line. “And Brad’s sitting right there, doing his best to get her attention. I thought they were dating.”

“I thought so, too,” I said.

“Well, Brad’s totally into her, but she’s ignoring him.”

“I guess she should probably tell him if she isn’t interested.”

“Exactly.” He frowned. “He’s acting kind of like an idiot.”

Poor Brad. “I guess he has it bad for her.”

“Whatever.”

My heart thumped. Jake wasn’t interested in Anya anymore.

“She’s probably flirting with me to get rid of him.”

Something in his voice worried me. “And if she isn’t? What if she wants to get back together with you?”

“She doesn’t.”

I grabbed a salad from the cooler. “But what if she does?”

Either he didn’t hear me or didn’t want to answer because he was across the crowded aisle getting his chips when I looked up.

I found some dressing and grabbed some plasticware and got in line to pay. Jake was ahead of me, and he waited a minute for me after he paid despite the overwhelming aroma of unsavory meatloaf.

We walked back to the table together, but I didn’t have the nerve to ask him about Anya again.

Anya beamed when we reached the table. She acted as happy to see me as she did Jake.

Brad wasn’t there. “Where’s Brad?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I sent him to get me another Diet Coke.” She motioned to the machines across the expansive cafeteria.

I saw that he was already headed back with his purchase.

“So,” I said, sitting down next to Jake. “Did Brad send you flowers?”

She slapped her hand down on the table shaking my salad and water. “I knew you had something to do with that. He sent me six dozen peach roses.”

“Wow,” Jake said.

I knew he was thinking that must have cost a fortune, because that is exactly what I was thinking.

I said, “He must really like you, Anya.”

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“You think?” Anya wrinkled her nose. “He is totally getting on my nerves. I don’t get it. He didn’t act like this at first.”

“I guess he’s in love,” I said with a teasing tone.

Jake rolled his eyes at me.

With a huff, Anya reached down and pulled a folded piece of notebook paper from her backpack. “He wrote me a love poem.”

Jake and I both cracked up.

“And it’s horrid.” Anya pushed the paper toward us. “See. Read it.”

“No,” I pushed it back. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Jake asked and grabbed the paper. “Do these music notes mean you’re supposed to sing it?” He rapped, “You know I love you baby. And I don’t mean maybe. You’re my cutie. Not just for your hot bootie. You’re prettier than a rose. This fact I know. You’ll be in my heart forever. And I’m not just trying to be clever.”

Good thing. Because clever, he’s not. “It’s not so bad,” I said trying to keep a straight face. “You know, for rap-inspired poetry.”

“He owes rappers a big apology,” Jake said shaking his head.

I couldn’t resist. “He owes every poet, song-writer, and boyfriend in the free world a big apology.”

Anya didn’t reply because Brad arrived at the table.

“Here, sweetheart,” he said, plopping the can on the table in front of her. “Do you need anything else?”

He reminded me of Jake’s dog, Indiana. Can I? Please? Pant. Pant.

“No,” Anya mumbled. And I could swear I heard her add “unfortunately” under her breath.

I started eating my salad very carefully so as not to end up with lettuce stuck in my teeth.

“Jake,” Anya chirped. “Do you just love your room?”

“Yeah. It’s great.” He pulled another potato chip out of the bag and munched on it.

“You know what? You should have a party to celebrate.”

Jake shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Not a big party. I know Sheree would freak. But, like, how about an intimate gathering? Just some friends.” Anya popped open the can.

“I already had the guys over last weekend.”

Anya’s voice grew flirtatious. “What about the girls?”