Read Online Beware of Bad Boy by April Brookshire - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: April Brookshire
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he’ll have to live somewhere else.
I glanced up at Gianna to take in the smug grin on her face. “What?” she asked innocently. I rolled my eyes at her and kept reading.
4. Go tagging (that means spray paint ing your name in public places, white boy!)
5. Get a tattoo
6. Street dance downtown at the 16 th Street Mall
7. Quit cheerleading
8. Go on a road trip to Vegas
9. Punch Caleb again
10. Ditch school
11. Make new (real) friends at school
12. Go out clubbing and get drunk off my ass
13. And other things that are none of your god damn business!
My eyes moved to Gianna again but she didn’t meet my eyes. “You better not make fun of me. You wanted the list, so there it is.” The list wasn’t particularly creative or adventurous in my book, but it was a start.
“I wasn’t going to make fun of you. But before we’re done, I’ll find out what number thirteen means. I think I should be able to help you out with most of that. Of course, we won’t be doing anything to harm me or my car.” That was for sure.
“What do you mean that you’ll be able to help me out? I can’t do those things. My mom would kill me, especially if I quit cheerleading. I think she’d rather me get a tattoo than quit cheerleading.” Her sour expression reminded me of Chance when my dad told him to do his homework the other day. Watching my dad parent another boy was odd for me. But I had to say, at that age I’d put up a much better fight than Chance.
“Well, you don’t have a choice, remember? You do what I say, or I tell your mom your secrets.”
“You have to be the most horrible stepbrother ever,” she said, as if it would hurt my feelings. I took that as a compliment. Not being devious would be boring.
“Ye p, time to go. I called your mom and already let her know you’ll be helping me at the downtown library with a school report. I told her we want me to get a good grade, so we’d be home late. We’ll take my car, because it’s cooler than yours.” With that, a reluctant Gianna and I left the apartment and trekked to where my car was parked.
“Your car is not cooler than mine,” she commented while I backed out of my spot. “By the way, where are we going?”
“We’re going to buy some spray paint .” Traffic was light late Sunday morning, so I maneuvered through the streets with ease.
She gaped at me. “We can’t really go tagging! It’s the middle of the day! Do you want to get arrested?”
“No, I definitely don’t want to get arrested again, so we’ ll just have to be very careful.”
“ Again? Oh my god! You’ve actually been arrested? What the heck for?” I could tell she was both shocked and dying of curiosity. Hello? Juvenile delinquent here. Getting arrested was like a rite of passage. It was the second and third time around that wasn’t fun anymore.
I smile d mysteriously at her just to rile her up. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
The nearest hardware store wasn’t really near at all, so it took some time to get there. When we found the spray paints, she picked out hot pink and aqua blue. I grabbed your basic black and white. There was beauty in simplicity, as my mom always said. Dante and I used to do this in middle school. Even though this was baby stuff, it brought back good memories.
I hadn’t been to our favorite tagging spot for years. It was an industrial area full of warehouses and big ugly brick buildings. Since it was Sunday, there wouldn’t be many people around. We parked in a mostly empty lot and got out of the car to search for the right spot.
Gianna was as nervous as a guy getting laid for the first time. I shook my head at her and grasped her from behind to whisper in her ear, “The police are after you, Gianna. They have a stakeout going on, just waiting for you to show up here with a can of spray paint.”
She squirm ed out of my arms. “Shut up, Caleb! Not all of us are okay with having a rap sheet. So, where are we doing this?”
I glanced up at Gianna to take in the smug grin on her face. “What?” she asked innocently. I rolled my eyes at her and kept reading.
4. Go tagging (that means spray paint ing your name in public places, white boy!)
5. Get a tattoo
6. Street dance downtown at the 16 th Street Mall
7. Quit cheerleading
8. Go on a road trip to Vegas
9. Punch Caleb again
10. Ditch school
11. Make new (real) friends at school
12. Go out clubbing and get drunk off my ass
13. And other things that are none of your god damn business!
My eyes moved to Gianna again but she didn’t meet my eyes. “You better not make fun of me. You wanted the list, so there it is.” The list wasn’t particularly creative or adventurous in my book, but it was a start.
“I wasn’t going to make fun of you. But before we’re done, I’ll find out what number thirteen means. I think I should be able to help you out with most of that. Of course, we won’t be doing anything to harm me or my car.” That was for sure.
“What do you mean that you’ll be able to help me out? I can’t do those things. My mom would kill me, especially if I quit cheerleading. I think she’d rather me get a tattoo than quit cheerleading.” Her sour expression reminded me of Chance when my dad told him to do his homework the other day. Watching my dad parent another boy was odd for me. But I had to say, at that age I’d put up a much better fight than Chance.
“Well, you don’t have a choice, remember? You do what I say, or I tell your mom your secrets.”
“You have to be the most horrible stepbrother ever,” she said, as if it would hurt my feelings. I took that as a compliment. Not being devious would be boring.
“Ye p, time to go. I called your mom and already let her know you’ll be helping me at the downtown library with a school report. I told her we want me to get a good grade, so we’d be home late. We’ll take my car, because it’s cooler than yours.” With that, a reluctant Gianna and I left the apartment and trekked to where my car was parked.
“Your car is not cooler than mine,” she commented while I backed out of my spot. “By the way, where are we going?”
“We’re going to buy some spray paint .” Traffic was light late Sunday morning, so I maneuvered through the streets with ease.
She gaped at me. “We can’t really go tagging! It’s the middle of the day! Do you want to get arrested?”
“No, I definitely don’t want to get arrested again, so we’ ll just have to be very careful.”
“ Again? Oh my god! You’ve actually been arrested? What the heck for?” I could tell she was both shocked and dying of curiosity. Hello? Juvenile delinquent here. Getting arrested was like a rite of passage. It was the second and third time around that wasn’t fun anymore.
I smile d mysteriously at her just to rile her up. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
The nearest hardware store wasn’t really near at all, so it took some time to get there. When we found the spray paints, she picked out hot pink and aqua blue. I grabbed your basic black and white. There was beauty in simplicity, as my mom always said. Dante and I used to do this in middle school. Even though this was baby stuff, it brought back good memories.
I hadn’t been to our favorite tagging spot for years. It was an industrial area full of warehouses and big ugly brick buildings. Since it was Sunday, there wouldn’t be many people around. We parked in a mostly empty lot and got out of the car to search for the right spot.
Gianna was as nervous as a guy getting laid for the first time. I shook my head at her and grasped her from behind to whisper in her ear, “The police are after you, Gianna. They have a stakeout going on, just waiting for you to show up here with a can of spray paint.”
She squirm ed out of my arms. “Shut up, Caleb! Not all of us are okay with having a rap sheet. So, where are we doing this?”
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