Rebel at Spruce High (Spruce Texas Romance #5) - Daryl Banner Page 0,26

your friends?”

“It’s G-Man,” Hoyt replies in a squeaky, simple voice, like that answers all of my questions. “He’s friends with everyone. Isn’t he your movie theater hookup, too? Shoot, Tobes, pal, no one who’s anyone pays for a ticket when you’re buds with G-Man.”

“Let go of me and my shoes.”

His voice drops, low and quiet. “I know what’s good for you,” he tells me, nearly a whisper. “I’m just tryin’ to help your ass out. You let guys walk over you. I’m your real friend here. Spend some time around me, I’ll toughen you up real good. You’ve got a great body for baseball. Thought about joinin’ the team for the spring? C’mon, now.” He leans his head into mine, our foreheads touching. “Why you gotta make this so hard? I know what’s good for you.”

Then, with a shrug of his arm, my hand and shoes are released at once. Hoyt gives me a light, breathy chuckle, shakes his head, then struts around me, sauntering out of the locker room. I glare at his back, red-faced.

I can still feel Hoyt’s grip on my hand as I pull on my shoes with a huff, then march out of the locker room and head for the cafeteria. Hoyt is such an actor sometimes, it’s a wonder he plays football instead of performing on a stage. It’s been a good six or seven long years of dealing with that self-entitled ass, and I’m at the end of a rope I didn’t realize I was holding until recently. And there’s no way I’m going to any party of G-Man’s with him there.

Late now—and in a mood—I’m third to last in the long lunch line, and feel like half my time’s gone before I even start to make my way through the maze of crowded tables. Thankfully, in the far corner right where I was yesterday, I spot Kelsey beckoning me over where she’s made a spot for us among the theatre people, some of whom I know by name, none of whom I’ve ever spent a minute of time hanging out with outside of school. In seconds, I’m pulled into a whirlwind of hypothetical guesses as to what play Ms. Joy will choose for the fall production this year. Usually a play has been picked and announced by now so everyone can prepare, but some issue with not attaining rights has made Ms. Joy have to abandon her first choice—Noises Off, of all ambitious productions to possibly pick—for something else.

Of course, I’m paying absolutely none of this any mind, even when the striking and charismatic Frankie Lopez, who gets nearly all the lead roles every show, insists I audition this Friday. What actually has my attention is where Vann is sitting today—and the fact that I don’t see him anywhere. And as my already-shortened lunch period rapidly drains away, I grow even more frustrated.

Then the bell rings, and people scatter like spooked spiders as fifth period summons them. I peer down at my tray, realizing I’ve barely eaten half my lunch, yet again.

Thankfully, Kelsey has secretly been helping me, snatching a bite or six under my distracted nose. “So …?” she asks, her voice lilting suggestively. “What’s on your mind …?”

I turn to her, suspicious. “Why’re you asking me like that?”

“Is it the guy?” She digs straight into it. “The Vann guy? Yeah, I thought so. If I had a guy like that fight for me the way he did yesterday, I’d be swooning, too.”

My face turns as red as the cup of cherry Jell-O on my tray I didn’t touch. “I’m not swooning.”

“It’s okay. I won’t tell no one. So you guys have chemistry?”

My eyes flash. “What?”

“Chemistry class. Are you not gonna eat that?” She snatches my untouched Jell-O and shoves it into her backpack. “So I want to know what he’s like. Did you ask him anything? Get to know him?”

“Not … Not really.” The commotion of everyone leaving the cafeteria and heading to their fifth periods all around me has my head scrambled up. “I don’t … I don’t know. He’s cool, I guess.”

“‘He’s cool, you guess’ …?”

“He likes to draw. He’s … quiet, though.”

“What else? C’mon. Give me the juicy stuff.”

“But I don’t have juicy stuff. Let’s go.” I rise from the table to deposit my tray. “We’ve gotta get to class. We’re already a few minutes into the bell, and I can’t be late to pre-cal again, not after missing nearly all of it yesterday.”

“You should have lunch with