Kissing the Shy Guy - Stephanie Street Page 0,5

the school, I couldn’t find her anywhere, and she wouldn’t answer my increasingly irritated text messages.

Laura made a noise in the back of her throat. “I know you went to the music store, so don’t act like you’ve been sitting around doing nothing. And I wasn’t sure I could get a ride, but I can. He just texted me.”

I stopped short in the middle of the deserted hallway. “So, it is a guy? Who is he?”

I didn’t have to see my sister to know she rolled her eyes. “Oh, my gosh! Mom knows, and she said I could ride with him. And if you think I’m going to tell you who so you can give him the third degree, you’re crazy. I’m sorry you had to wait. I’ll see you at home later.” She disconnected the call.

I stared at my phone in disbelief. “That little jerk just hung up on me,” I said into the empty hall.

Lamenting the injustices in the universe that had cursed me with six sisters, I pushed through a set of double doors leading to the music wing. My mind raced with the possibilities of who might give Laura a ride home, but I didn’t know anyone Laura hung around with. We didn’t exactly move in the same circles. Where my friends mostly consisted of the other guys in my band, Breakout, Laura was friends with almost everyone, especially the drama club.

What guys were in the drama club? Scratching my head, I pushed through the last set of double doors with my shoulder.

Alex Morton? No. He was only a sophomore. He probably didn’t even have his driver’s license.

Dillon Hernandez? Couldn’t be. The guy was so short; he wouldn’t even reach Laura’s shoulder.

Who was the other guy? Gah! The one dating that witchy girl, Jenna. Well, it couldn’t be him, anyway. He already had a girlfriend. Jenna. I shuddered. What would it be like to date Jenna Bradford, Lakeview High’s resident mean girl?

I pondered that as I continued to the practice room. The guys from Breakout all had the same lunch period. And since Asher Sloane, our lead singer, played hockey, we had to squeeze time in where we could. That meant rehearsing during lunch and our free period at the end of the day. Ms. Jackson, the choir director, let us use one of the practice rooms located between the choir and band rooms. That was where I’d left my guitar. I’d almost reached it when I heard an ear-splitting scream and broke into a sprint.

The choir room door was open. I ran inside at full speed, and seeing only one person there, skidded to a halt.

“What? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” I was out of breath. My blood pumped from the burst of adrenaline brought on by the scream.

Blazing green eyes flashed. “Adam? What are you doing here?” Jenna. Strange that I’d just been thinking about her.

Extensive experience dealing with hostile females had me throwing my hands up in self-defense. She didn’t look like she would hit me, but one never knew.

“I heard a scream. I thought someone was in trouble.” As unobtrusively as possible, I scanned her for any outward injury. I might have passed someone in the hall, but I hadn’t been paying attention. There was no place to hide in the choir room. It was just Jenna.

Jenna growled through clenched teeth. “Go away!” She stood with her hands fisted at her side, anger radiating in waves from her—I couldn’t help noticing—freaking fantastic body.

With my hands still in the air, I took a cautious step forward. “Hey, I just want to make sure you’re okay. What happened?”

Her eyes shot fiery green darts my direction, but I knew how to handle a hot temper. My older sister, Diana, was a complete diva. I recognized the signs of a full-blown bitch fit, and Jenna was definitely in the middle of one.

But then something completely unexpected happened—Jenna Bradford began to cry.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s wrong?” Something else I knew all about? Crazy emotional outbursts. I forgot all about Jenna’s rocking body, mostly, as all my brotherly protective instincts took over. Before I knew it, I’d wrapped a sobbing Jenna in my arms as her tears soaked my t-shirt.

“Shhh. It’s okay,” I murmured while my brain jumped up and down inside my head, wondering just what the hell I was doing hugging this Regina George clone. Comforting her, I reassured myself. That’s all I was doing.

Jenna shook her head against my chest. “No. No, it’s not okay,” she