Stirring Up Trouble (Stirring Up Trouble Trilogy 1)

“No.” He leaned in close to whisper, “I’m interested in you because you’re a really awesome kisser.”

Works for me.

“So, can we study?” he asked.

I just nodded. Nothing much had happened in fifteen years of my life, but now, my life was like a runaway train. The only thing I was sure of was that I wanted more kissing.

His eyes lit with a smile.

There was no way I was going to concentrate on classes today.

Jake rode the bus home with me. Since we had a captive audience, I was a nervous wreck about what people would think. Luckily, his friend Eli rode my bus, so Jake sat with him. It was bad enough to get off at the same stop. If everyone on the bus saw us sitting together, rumors would spread like wildfire. I’d never had any rumors spread about me, but I wanted to keep this thing with us quiet. It was pressure enough just seeing what came of it.

We could walk from my house to his house, three neighborhoods away, but school wasn’t within walking distance. Mom was cuddling sick babies at the hospital anyway. I’d never been alone with a guy in my house before. It felt very dangerous and exhilarating.

The faint smell of cleaning products told me the housekeeper had come today. Mom didn’t like to clean, but she said there was no point in decorating if you weren’t going to keep your house looking nice. And since she was all about decorating, our house had to look good.

We dropped our backpacks on the kitchen counter, and I grabbed us each a Coke out of the fridge. “So what now?”

He grinned. “We study, of course.”

For a moment, I thought about how he’d probably done this a hundred times with Anya, but then I pushed it from my mind. This was my time with Jake, and no one was going to interfere.

I handed him his Coke.

He caught my hand as he took the can. “You’re so pretty, Zoe.” His gaze was intense.

The way he said my name melted my insides. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, he didn’t intend to let me talk. He kissed me right there by the fridge.

“You smell good too.”

Taking both cokes, he led me into the couch in the living room. I followed feeling somewhat like a puppy dog. I sat down and pulled my phone out of my pocket setting it on the coffee table.

“I’ve been thinking about those kisses,” he said, with a smirk.

“Yeah. You told me that,” I said as he set the drinks on the coffee table along with his phone. Having all his attention focused on me was a heady sensation.

“Well, I’m not sure they were really our best.”

“You aren’t.” I had a feeling I’d like where this was going. I sat on the couch and waited for him.

“No.” His eyes flashed with mischief. “So I think we should practice a little.”

“And here I thought we were really going to study.” I could totally feel the air sizzling between us. I thought that couldn’t really happen. I was wrong.

He plopped down on the couch beside me. Then he took his arms and wrapped them around me. All was right with the world.

Kissing him rocked. Even though I kept thinking about how he’d done all this with Anya. I knew exactly what they’d done, when they’d done it, and how they’d done it. Kind of a weird situation.

But the boy could kiss!

He pulled away. “When does your mom get home?”

“Huh? Oh,” I said as my mind cleared. “I don’t know.” I looked at the coffee table in front of us. “She knows you’re here studying.” Except something was missing. Books. “I should get out backpacks,” I said, jumping up.

“Good idea,” he said, following my train of thought. “We should at least look like we could be studying.”

He grabbed for his coke as I headed to the kitchen.

I had texted my mother earlier. She knew we were going to be studying. I had told her that I was hoping Anya wouldn’t freak if she found out.

When I walked back in, struggling to carry both our ridiculously heavy backpacks, Jake was standing by the couch, stuffing his phone into his pocket.

“I think I should go,” he said.

I stopped in my tracks. “What? Why?” The backpacks slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.

Jake walked over and picked up his. “I don’t think this is a good idea. You know, with our parents dating each other.”

Had I missed something? A minute ago it was fine.

“We were just kind of playing around, but…” He tossed the backpack over his shoulder. “I don’t want things to get awkward.”

Too late, I thought, as I searched for something to say.

“I’m sorry.” He turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

What the heck? I replayed the last few moments in my mind. Everything was fine. Then I went to the kitchen and everything changed.

I sank down onto the couch, and my phone caught my eye. Why was the screen lit up?

I picked up my iPhone to see a text message. From my mom.

“Honey, you should just enjoy yourself and not worry about Anya. After all, you have been in love with this Jake boy for years!”

Right there on my phone for Jake to see. My mother had said I was in love with him. It was so totally like my mom to say it like that. She couldn’t just say “crushing on” or that I “liked” him. No, my mother had to say “in love with.”

Suddenly Jake’s “just playing around” comment made sense. He didn’t mind kissing me, but he wasn’t ready to date me. Nice. I shook my head. No way was I going to mope about a guy who freaked out that easily. Either he liked me or he didn’t.

I’d spent all day yesterday doing the heartbroken thing, and I was totally over it.

Sighing, I went into the kitchen. I pulled out my notebook and started working out the anchovy substitution. I’d put my research on hold long enough. I refused to think about Jake, and I almost succeeded.

When Mom got home, we came up with a plan. We called it the Flirt-a-thon. The idea was to show Jake how little he meant to me by flirting with everyone else in the world. And I do mean everyone.

I thought it would be hard, but once I was in the flirt mode, I couldn’t seem to come back out. I even flirted with Wesley Milbert. The unfortunate side effect was that I think he fell in love with me. He asked me out, and I had to turn him down. Then I felt like crap all day.

At dinner Tuesday night, I informed Mom that the Flirt-a-thon was a miserable failure. She sat down on the couch next to me. “Maybe we should call in a favor.”

Calling in a favor meant trading a potion to a witch for another service like a spell. We still suffered the punishment to our appearance. “What would we do anyway, Mom? Make him date me? I don’t want a boyfriend who acts like an idiot. He has to regain his sanity on his own.”

Jasmine rubbed against my leg and I picked her up.

Mom grinned. “I was thinking more like turning him into a frog, but whatever. It’s your call.”

Hmmm. “Would he stay a frog, or could I kiss him and turn him into a prince?” I petted Jasmine who was purring on my lap.

“Again, your call,” Mom said, laughing.

The rest of the week, I avoided both Anya and Jake at school. It didn’t make for pleasant lunches. I didn’t want Camille to have to choose between me and Anya so I went over and sat with the exchange students and my friend Jill. She served as the unofficial welcoming committee. Jill’s father was from Ivory Coast and her mother was from Chile, so she was fluent in French and Spanish. She loved everything international. The exchange students were pretty nice, most of them, and I had to concentrate so hard to understand what they were saying that it took my mind off of everything else.

Anya was really getting on my nerves because she was still seeing Brad. She had no right to tell me what to do.

Apparently, she didn’t know that Jake and I were already over. Or maybe she did. I didn’t care.

Okay, I cared. She was my best friend in the world. We’d been fri

ends since kindergarten. I’d never told her I was a witch, but she knew everything else about me. Like that I pee in my pants if I laugh really, really hard. And I knew stuff about her. Like that she still stuffs her bra. And that tampons scare her.

It got to the point that I couldn’t concentrate in chemistry. And I was a whiz in chemistry. I almost blew up the lab. That wouldn’t look good when I applied to medical school. Plus, the program was funded with a special grant. They’d probably cut the advanced science programs if the school burned down.

By Friday, I was a basket case, and I had to spend the weekend with my dad.

And I started my period. The only thing worse than my period was dealing with it at my dad’s apartment. Even if I had supplies, which this time I did, there was still the issue of sleeping on the pristine white futon.

You’d think a witch could handle a little thing like menstruation.

I’d tried once. I used a potion to make it clear instead of blood red. I figured it would get rid of the whole staining problem. Unfortunately, the potion had side effects. For a week, my burps and farts were blue. You think they’re embarrassing normally. Try watching them float by in color.

After that, I’d left well enough alone.

We watched an excruciatingly long documentary on HBO. Then Dad decided it was bed time.

I went to the linen closet and got three bath towels to put on the futon, for added protection.

I had just pulled the covers over me when Dad came back down the hall.