T is for...he's a TOTAL jerk (Grover Beach Team #3) by Piper Shelly Page B
Authors: Piper Shelly
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at eight.”
Okay, not the warm kind of invitation I had hoped for, but it was better than nothing. Maybe we could start over again.
After dinner, I changed my clothes, ran a comb through my unruly hair, and brushed my teeth. I was outside waiting by Cloey’s car at three minutes to eight, and she gave an irritated roll of her eyes when she saw me standing there.
We both climbed in, then she started the engine and cruised down the road. This was the perfect moment to talk things out with her.
“Listen, Clo, I wanted to tell you sorry for what happened down in the café. I was a little stressed out and—”
The tires screeched to a halt. I was pressed into the seatbelt so hard that all the air whizzed out of my lungs. “What the heck—” I gasped.
Cloey turned a cold look at me. “Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out of my car.”
“Why?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll just come around and drag you out by your hair.”
Oh my God! What had gotten into the girl? “Cloey, if this is because of Saturday night, let me—”
“Samantha, I’ve no intention of bringing you with me to meet my friends. Never had. I said yes so my mom and dad would get off my back, but now I want you to get out and find something else to do.”
Wow. I swallowed hard. Her face was edged in granite, so I figured further arguing was useless. I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door, but before I could get out, I heard her cold voice behind me.
“And stay away from Pamela Summers. She’s not your mother, she’s mine. Yours is miles away and obviously not very interested in you, or she wouldn’t have sent you to my place where you can squeeze in where you don’t belong.”
My chest tightened at her words. Not because I believed the shit she said, but because I couldn’t understand so much hatred coming from a girl I’d loved to hang out with only a couple of years ago. I was too wrung up to reply, so I climbed out and slammed the door shut behind me, heading down the sidewalk and not turning around to her when the tires screeched away from the curb.
CHAPTER 5
All right, what to do with an evening that went wrong before it had even started? I dropped my suddenly exhausted self onto a bench close to the road and fished in my pocket for my cell phone. I had called my parents several times since coming to my aunt’s place and I always made sure to sound happy and not convey how much I missed them. But when I called my mom tonight, I just sobbed into the phone.
I told her about Cloey’s unexpected bitchiness and that she was turning my stay into hell. I also told her about Anthony Mitchell’s verbal slaps in my face. My mom listened to my rants for minutes without disrupting me, then she took a deep breath before she turned into the angel I knew. She asked me about the good moments I’d already had in Grover Beach. I remembered Susan, Liza, and Simone, who seemed to instantly like me, and I also told her that Nick Frederickson had done the fish dissecting for me when I couldn’t.
Mom’s soft voice soothed me, and by the time I said goodnight and promised that I would call her after school tomorrow, I’d dabbed at my tears and was able to breathe again without my chest and throat feeling like they were being acupunctured.
I sat for a little while, regarding the darkening sky, wondering whether I should just go home and go to bed. Yeah, great idea, coming home with bloodshot eyes from crying. My aunt and uncle would freak out. And Cloey would have my head for it. I planted my boots on the bench and hugged my knees to my chest, skimming through the new names in my cell phone. Maybe one of the girls was up for going out for a bit and having a cappuccino with me in that café close to Tony’s home.
My thumb hovered over the call button with Liza’s name on the display, then I stopped. She was probably with her boyfriend, and I didn’t want to be the odd one out. I called Susan instead.
“Hi, Sam, what’s
Okay, not the warm kind of invitation I had hoped for, but it was better than nothing. Maybe we could start over again.
After dinner, I changed my clothes, ran a comb through my unruly hair, and brushed my teeth. I was outside waiting by Cloey’s car at three minutes to eight, and she gave an irritated roll of her eyes when she saw me standing there.
We both climbed in, then she started the engine and cruised down the road. This was the perfect moment to talk things out with her.
“Listen, Clo, I wanted to tell you sorry for what happened down in the café. I was a little stressed out and—”
The tires screeched to a halt. I was pressed into the seatbelt so hard that all the air whizzed out of my lungs. “What the heck—” I gasped.
Cloey turned a cold look at me. “Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out of my car.”
“Why?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll just come around and drag you out by your hair.”
Oh my God! What had gotten into the girl? “Cloey, if this is because of Saturday night, let me—”
“Samantha, I’ve no intention of bringing you with me to meet my friends. Never had. I said yes so my mom and dad would get off my back, but now I want you to get out and find something else to do.”
Wow. I swallowed hard. Her face was edged in granite, so I figured further arguing was useless. I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door, but before I could get out, I heard her cold voice behind me.
“And stay away from Pamela Summers. She’s not your mother, she’s mine. Yours is miles away and obviously not very interested in you, or she wouldn’t have sent you to my place where you can squeeze in where you don’t belong.”
My chest tightened at her words. Not because I believed the shit she said, but because I couldn’t understand so much hatred coming from a girl I’d loved to hang out with only a couple of years ago. I was too wrung up to reply, so I climbed out and slammed the door shut behind me, heading down the sidewalk and not turning around to her when the tires screeched away from the curb.
CHAPTER 5
All right, what to do with an evening that went wrong before it had even started? I dropped my suddenly exhausted self onto a bench close to the road and fished in my pocket for my cell phone. I had called my parents several times since coming to my aunt’s place and I always made sure to sound happy and not convey how much I missed them. But when I called my mom tonight, I just sobbed into the phone.
I told her about Cloey’s unexpected bitchiness and that she was turning my stay into hell. I also told her about Anthony Mitchell’s verbal slaps in my face. My mom listened to my rants for minutes without disrupting me, then she took a deep breath before she turned into the angel I knew. She asked me about the good moments I’d already had in Grover Beach. I remembered Susan, Liza, and Simone, who seemed to instantly like me, and I also told her that Nick Frederickson had done the fish dissecting for me when I couldn’t.
Mom’s soft voice soothed me, and by the time I said goodnight and promised that I would call her after school tomorrow, I’d dabbed at my tears and was able to breathe again without my chest and throat feeling like they were being acupunctured.
I sat for a little while, regarding the darkening sky, wondering whether I should just go home and go to bed. Yeah, great idea, coming home with bloodshot eyes from crying. My aunt and uncle would freak out. And Cloey would have my head for it. I planted my boots on the bench and hugged my knees to my chest, skimming through the new names in my cell phone. Maybe one of the girls was up for going out for a bit and having a cappuccino with me in that café close to Tony’s home.
My thumb hovered over the call button with Liza’s name on the display, then I stopped. She was probably with her boyfriend, and I didn’t want to be the odd one out. I called Susan instead.
“Hi, Sam, what’s
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