The Backup Girlfriend (Grove Valley High #2) - Emma Doherty Page 0,60
slightly. “For good reason. Have you seen some of the cars in his dad’s showroom?”
I have. They’re pretty awesome. My dad gets his cars from Aaron’s dad.
But wait… “You didn’t even bid, though.”
“I know.”
“So you can’t be pissed about not winning if you didn’t even try.”
He offers me a wry smile.
“I was never going to bid.”
Okay, I really don’t get this guy.
He clears his throat. “I’m not like most of the students at this school.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, ego. I know you’re the smartest kid here.”
He laughs softly. “That’s not what I meant.”
It takes me a second to figure out what he’s hinting at. “Oh.”
He shrugs self-consciously. “My mom cleans houses, and my dad’s in the military. They work really hard, but they don’t have any extra cash. That’s why I work so much after school and why I agreed to tutor you. I need every cent I can get to save for college.”
I don’t know what to say to that. It’s not something I’ve had to think about before. “You have a scholarship to college, right?”
He nods. “Full ride.” A hint of a smile crosses his face, and I know he’s proud of himself. “But I need to make sure I have as much money saved as possible so I can pay for my expenses.”
“Your parents—”
“Are awesome and will help me out as much as they can, but I don’t want my mom working longer hours or my dad taking extra deployments just to help me out.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Why would you? But that’s why I was a dick to you the other night. Sometimes it just feels pretty unfair that some people have so much money they can toss it away at an auction for charity.”
I sit back in my own chair, processing everything he’s just said.
“Brett—”
“Hey, I’m one of the lucky ones. I decided when I was eight years old that I was gonna be the smartest kid in school, and I’ve used my brain to study my ass off so I finish at the top of our class. I’m gonna make sure I go to college and get a job that’s so well paid I can buy my parents a new house within my first year of working.”
“Brett—”
“Do not feel sorry for me, Abigail. I mean it.”
I don’t feel sorry for him, not at all. If anything, I admire his work ethic and tenacity, his determination to reach his goal.
“I was just going to say…” I clear my throat. “I think that’s pretty cool.”
His eyes flash, and a small, reluctant smile crosses his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“So you accept my apology?”
“Yes, I accept your apology for being an ignorant, pompous, idiotic dipshit the other night.”
He snickers. “I don’t think you needed to include quite so many adjectives there.”
I’m grinning back at him now, my smile wide. “I do.”
He rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn’t budge. “Shut it, Baker.” He reaches out, pulls over my notebook, and turns my textbook to face him. “Let’s see how you did over the weekend, huh?”
I watch him as he scans my work, making little notes as he goes, and I can’t help the smile on my face.
No doubt about it, the relief I feel about us not being in a fight anymore is real.
18
Cheerleading practice is grueling, but in a good way. I work my ass off for two hours straight, stretch, and work my body in a way that I haven’t in weeks, and I feel happy that my muscles remember the moves required and I can actually do something I’m good at for the first time in months.
Coach must have decided that as the seniors are about to leave, she’d give us one last good workout where we ran drills, did bodyweight exercises, and did more cardio than I remember doing in years before Sasha and I took over to teach the routines we’ll be doing at the pep rally.
You’d think we were going to state (we only managed to make it there once, when I was a sophomore) with the way Sasha’s treating it. She’s going to make sure she continues cheering in college, she loves it that much. She’s always attended training camps, and I think she has family in Georgia. Cheerleading is pretty huge there and has therefore rubbed off on her. I’ve got to say, it makes my life as captain so much easier. She spent twenty minutes telling me some of the routines she’d planned for us, what old favorites she thought we should