Read Online Double Clutch by Liz Reinhardt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Liz Reinhardt
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dirt biking.
“ Hey!” he called.
I locked my bike up. “Hey yourself,” I smiled. “Why are you waiting out here?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I was excited to see you,” he said, his voice a little shy. His words sent a thrill of warmth through me. He looked at me quickly from under lashes that were lovely, long, and silky. I wondered if boys ever noticed their own lashes.
“ You don’t have to freeze. I’ll come and meet you in class.”
“ Then how could I offer to carry your books?”
I laughed. “You’re crazy,” I said, unintentionally echoing Saxon’s sentiment to me a few minutes ago. “I carry a backpack,” I pointed out.
“ Good, ‘cause I don’t. Come on, before some better looking guy tries to pick you up, and I have to get in a serious fight.” He held out his hand, and even though I thought he was weird for wanting to, I gave him my backpack. He put it on and pretended to stagger under the weight. “Wow! Frankford must actually make you read and stuff.”
“ Don’t you have to read at Tech?”
“ Nope. Haven’t you heard? We’re all dirtbags here. We don’t need to read.”
He was mostly teasing, but I could tell he partially believed what he said, too.
“ That’s not funny, Jake. You’re smart. If you don’t move your brain a little it’s going to slide out of your ear.”
He made a gross slurping sound and tilted his head over. I laughed.
“ So what books are in here?” he asked as we walked down the hall.
“ I’ve got a Government textbook and Lord of the Flies for English. And that’s all I’m doing academically. Oh, and my new laptop is in there. That’s why it’s so heavy.”
“ Show me last period?” he requested.
“ Sure.” The laptop hadn’t even come up with Saxon. He wasn’t really the kind of guy who you could talk to about everyday stuff. It was always exciting with Saxon, and sometimes that was strangely disappointing.
“ Was it your birthday or something?” Jake asked. We were in the classroom, and he put my bag down carefully on the table. I liked how respectful he was with my things.
“ No. It will be in a few weeks, on October 11 th , but my dad wanted to give me the laptop for school.”
“ Nice dad,” he said.
“ When is your birthday?”
“ November 3 rd . I’ll be seventeen.”
“ Really?” I said, surprised. I just assumed he was my age.
“ Yeah. Do I seem immature? I stayed back in kindergarten.”
“ Kindergarten. What can they hold you back for?”
“ I was unsociable,” he recited.
“ Like you wouldn’t play with anyone else in the block area?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’ve been a dumbass for so long, it’s hard to remember all the specifics.”
I clucked my tongue at him. “You’re not a dumbass, Jake.”
He just avoided my eye contact. I had never met anyone who was so comfortable thinking so little of himself. I didn’t like it at all. Jake was way smarter than he gave himself credit for, and I hated that he was so blasé about brushing off compliments he totally deserved.
We took out our paper and started sketching. His was much more precise than mine, much more detailed. I’d like to think I had a better handle on the subtle aspects, the shading and play of light and dark, but I think it pretty clearly came down to the fact that Jake was just plain better.
We didn’t talk much all period. Jake really was a really hard worker, and very focused. He took his time and evaluated his work over and over. A couple of times, our hands brushed as we reached for the same eraser or sheet of paper. When they did, he looked at me and smiled his crooked smile, but that was as far as it went.
When we got to last period, he was way more relaxed. It was slated as a project period, which meant that we came up with an independent design project and worked on it for a few weeks. The first assignment was a business card. I already had several sketched out.
“ Those are great.”
“ Hey!” he called.
I locked my bike up. “Hey yourself,” I smiled. “Why are you waiting out here?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I was excited to see you,” he said, his voice a little shy. His words sent a thrill of warmth through me. He looked at me quickly from under lashes that were lovely, long, and silky. I wondered if boys ever noticed their own lashes.
“ You don’t have to freeze. I’ll come and meet you in class.”
“ Then how could I offer to carry your books?”
I laughed. “You’re crazy,” I said, unintentionally echoing Saxon’s sentiment to me a few minutes ago. “I carry a backpack,” I pointed out.
“ Good, ‘cause I don’t. Come on, before some better looking guy tries to pick you up, and I have to get in a serious fight.” He held out his hand, and even though I thought he was weird for wanting to, I gave him my backpack. He put it on and pretended to stagger under the weight. “Wow! Frankford must actually make you read and stuff.”
“ Don’t you have to read at Tech?”
“ Nope. Haven’t you heard? We’re all dirtbags here. We don’t need to read.”
He was mostly teasing, but I could tell he partially believed what he said, too.
“ That’s not funny, Jake. You’re smart. If you don’t move your brain a little it’s going to slide out of your ear.”
He made a gross slurping sound and tilted his head over. I laughed.
“ So what books are in here?” he asked as we walked down the hall.
“ I’ve got a Government textbook and Lord of the Flies for English. And that’s all I’m doing academically. Oh, and my new laptop is in there. That’s why it’s so heavy.”
“ Show me last period?” he requested.
“ Sure.” The laptop hadn’t even come up with Saxon. He wasn’t really the kind of guy who you could talk to about everyday stuff. It was always exciting with Saxon, and sometimes that was strangely disappointing.
“ Was it your birthday or something?” Jake asked. We were in the classroom, and he put my bag down carefully on the table. I liked how respectful he was with my things.
“ No. It will be in a few weeks, on October 11 th , but my dad wanted to give me the laptop for school.”
“ Nice dad,” he said.
“ When is your birthday?”
“ November 3 rd . I’ll be seventeen.”
“ Really?” I said, surprised. I just assumed he was my age.
“ Yeah. Do I seem immature? I stayed back in kindergarten.”
“ Kindergarten. What can they hold you back for?”
“ I was unsociable,” he recited.
“ Like you wouldn’t play with anyone else in the block area?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’ve been a dumbass for so long, it’s hard to remember all the specifics.”
I clucked my tongue at him. “You’re not a dumbass, Jake.”
He just avoided my eye contact. I had never met anyone who was so comfortable thinking so little of himself. I didn’t like it at all. Jake was way smarter than he gave himself credit for, and I hated that he was so blasé about brushing off compliments he totally deserved.
We took out our paper and started sketching. His was much more precise than mine, much more detailed. I’d like to think I had a better handle on the subtle aspects, the shading and play of light and dark, but I think it pretty clearly came down to the fact that Jake was just plain better.
We didn’t talk much all period. Jake really was a really hard worker, and very focused. He took his time and evaluated his work over and over. A couple of times, our hands brushed as we reached for the same eraser or sheet of paper. When they did, he looked at me and smiled his crooked smile, but that was as far as it went.
When we got to last period, he was way more relaxed. It was slated as a project period, which meant that we came up with an independent design project and worked on it for a few weeks. The first assignment was a business card. I already had several sketched out.
“ Those are great.”
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