Girls Love Travis Walker

Girls Love Travis Walker

by

Anne Pfeffer

Table of Contents

In Trouble

Bad Boy

Cherry Lips

Peeping Toms

Over the Edge

Dropout

Bad Seed

Wild

Spoiler

Hormones

Ballbuster

Blackout

Proposition

Tree Kicker

Alligator Lady

Imposter

Pants on Fire

Hoops

Player

Pranks

Silly

Fold

Tool

Scrambling

Fallen Hero

Blindsided

Paper Blizzard

Star

First Date

Setback

The Pole

Heat

Terror

Charm

Forgiven

Caught

Passion

Dirty

On the Street

Evasion

Unreliable

Fine Dining

Towed

Inferno

Lemon Jello

Redemption

Love

Copyright © 2013 by Anne Pfeffer

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

Published March 15, 2013

ISBN
978-1-4675-6880-7   (Kindle version)

Publisher: Anne Pfeffer

www.annepfeffer.com

Edited by Meredith Efken

Cover Design by Scarlett Rugers

To

my wonderful writing teacher,

Linzi Glass,

who stuck by me through the horrible early drafts,

never lost faith in me, and

made this book possible

and to my fabulous Monday writing group:

Leba Haber

Toni Martinovich

Adele Plotkin

In Trouble

Only fifteen minutes since I’d entered the halls of Perdido High School and already the beady eye of authority was upon me. I hadn’t even done anything wrong.

Yet.

“Travis!” Ms. Valenzuela called out to me from the door of the guidance office. Although she was getting old, maybe into her early forties, she hadn’t let herself go. She had great legs, which were hidden today by her lime green pants.

“Yo.” I loped over and unleashed a grin that combined sincere remorse for my failings with my irresistible charm.

She pursed her lips. “Don’t start with me, Travis.”  

I led the way to her office and took my usual chair while she sat at the desk across from me. “New picture,” I said, nodding to the updated photo of her two daughters. “Kelsi and … Julianne, right?”

She struggled to keep back a smile. “
Yes
, Travis. Those are their names.”

“Fifth and seventh grade, right?”

“Yes, Travis.” Now she was smiling for sure.

Maybe it was my blue-green eyes, or maybe my granite abs, but I could always get women to smile at me.

Ms. Valenzuela opened my folder. “Six more absences since your last visit to my office. Plus numerous missed homework assignments. You’re this close to suspension.” She held up her thumb and index finger a millimeter apart.

“I have to work, Ms. Val,” I said. “Gotta get ahead, you know.” I had a promising position as a bus boy at Jake’s Burgers.

“How many hours are you working these days?”

“As many as I can get, whenever I can get ‘em.”

“You can’t cut back?” She knew she couldn’t push me that hard. My family’s sudden move to Los Angeles in November of my junior year, coupled with my erratic attendance at Perdido High, had screwed up my graduation credits. With all my former classmates in college, I was starting my senior year, again, at age nineteen.

“I can’t get weekend shifts at Jake’s,” I told Ms.Val.

She didn’t like me working there, but she should just be glad I wasn’t following in the path of my father, who knocked over a convenience mart a year ago and ended up in prison for armed robbery. Mom had gone to visit him, but I refused. He could rot there for all I cared.

“You’ve got one school year left to graduate. I want to see you get that high school diploma, Travis. Or a GED at least.” Between her fingers, she rolled a pen. It was the cheap kind the school district bought that wrote for about five minutes before it crapped out on you.

“Yeah, well, we’re about to get evicted,” I said, “so that’s kind of rearranged my priorities.”

She hesitated for a moment. "My brother-in-law's hiring for seasonal work. It's hard physical labor, and there are… well, he has some pretty rough guys working for him. But he pays well and would give you hours outside the school day."

"What kind of work is it?"

"Brush clearance."At my blank look, she added, "you know, clearing away dead grass and bushes around the houses built in the hills. The fire department requires it every year."

She wasn't kidding about hard physical labor. But to me it meant being outdoors and away from the constant smell of grease. I didn’t even have to think about it.

"I'm in. I can start tomorrow."

##

I left Ms. Val’s office thinking
screw two weeks’ notice
. I would go to Jake’s after school, for what I’d just decided would be my last afternoon of work in his fine dining establishment.

Busy planning my next career move, I failed to see the person in front of me until she was right in my face.

Snap. It was Brittany, as in last-Saturday-night-in-the-back-seat-of-DJ’s-car Brittany. I hadn't seen or talked to her since. In fact, I hadn't thought of her since.

Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. A little vertical line plowed between her eyebrows.

"Hi, Travis." Strange how in the car, she'd been all warm skin and curves and sensation, and now she seemed as prickly and unapproachable as a porcupine.

"Well, hey!" I took a big step backward. "What’s up, Brit?" I hadn't meant to disrespect her by not calling. It's just that I’d been distracted by the flood in our bathroom, and by the fact that we couldn't call a plumber or the landlord about it due to our financially challenged situation. Also distracted by Mom losing her last job and then coming home, climbing into bed, and not coming out. For a week.

"I would have thought you'd at least text me," Brittany said, blocking my path.

"Yeah, well, sorry." I could've explained my problems but thought I’d do her a favor and let her peg me for an asshole early. She could do way better than me—she just didn't know it.

We stood there for a moment, until her eyes got all big and teary and she choked back a sob and ran off. I wondered how many more women would get on my case before first period.

Fortunately, these days I found most of my female company not at school, but at Chick’s, a local night spot that I visited with my friend DJ and our fake IDs. The girls at Chick’s were fun. They liked to have fun, too. I wondered who I would meet if we went out tonight. Picturing long smooth legs wrapped around my waist made World Geography fly by.

##

That afternoon, my final paycheck in hand, I stopped at the bank and converted it into cold, hard cash. I peeled out enough for a bag of groceries, put it in my pocket, and went to see our landlady, Mrs. M.

When she opened her door, the smell of garlic almost brought me to my knees. A TV blared in some foreign language from inside her apartment, while a flushing toilet roared. Mrs. M showed me her fangs, all five feet of her in a flowered house dress.

I stood my ground and gave her my most disarming look, like, hey, I'm here, aren't I? All prepared to make a nice, big, late, partial rent payment. I just hoped she’d cut me slack because I was paying cash.

I pulled back my hand fast as she took the bills, so our fingers wouldn't touch. She counted the bills, then curled her lip. "Not enough!"

I knew that. I’d given her about a quarter of the August rent, which meant I still owed most of August and all of September. Pushing aside the sick, sinking feeling in my stomach, I gave her the certified Travis-Walker-make-em-weep smile. "More to come," I announced. "In cash!"

"When?"

"I start a new job tomorrow – a better one. I'll have more for you this week."

"All August rent. This week. Or else…bye-bye!"

Beyond the ten bucks in my pocket, Mom and I had nothing. Too late, I realized my mistake. If you're going to be evicted anyway, for God's sake, don't give the landlady everything you have.

Bad Boy

Our little dung heap of an apartment was dark when I walked in. I flipped on the light, thinking, who would have thought, back when I was starting high school, that one day I'd be grateful just to have lights that worked and a ceiling over our heads?

Back then, Dad was mainly law-abiding and could find construction work off and on, although sometimes only in another city. And when he wasn’t gambling.

Hearing a noise from the bedroom, I peered in. Mom slept in one of my dad’s t-shirts, her legs bare, the covers on the floor. Her long hair fanned out across the pillow. I pulled the covers over her as gently as I could.

Swearing under my breath, I sat down on my bed, otherwise known as the living room sofa, and called the number Ms. Val had given me.

"This is Benny Sandoval." A man's recorded voice in a faint Hispanic accent. “For brush clearance and tree removal, leave a message and I will call you back promptly. God Bless America, and have a nice day.”

I left my name, thinking I wanted to go out with DJ, but I couldn’t suggest it when I had no money. I lucked out, though, because a minute later, he called. "You wanna hang out?”

"Man, I’m broke. You’d have to drive and pay." I needed to save the little gas in our car for getting to work.

A silence. "I can cover your drinks," he said. DJ’s parents lavished money on their perfect and only son.

I knew I shouldn’t go. I already owed him a lot. “I’d pay you back for sure. I’m good for it.”

“I know, man. Eight thirty.”

It was time to escape reality. Tonight, I’d get a buzz on, maybe meet a girl.

##

Her name was Allison. The slope of her bare shoulders offered escape, her throaty voice, release. She sat on the barstool at Chick’s, twirling a straw and crossing and uncrossing the legs below her short skirt. I wondered how I’d ever lived without her.

"You want to do shots?" She licked her lips.

I could have— I wasn't driving. But I had stuff to do tomorrow, like get a new job.

"Not really." I admired her fine cinnamon-colored eyes and the touch of sparkle at her ears.

"What are you looking at?" She put her hand to her face, as if suddenly self-conscious.

"You," I said truthfully. "I'm looking at you."

##

If God hadn't wanted men to adore women, he wouldn't have made them smell and taste the way they do. Being with Allison was like rolling in a field of fresh cut grass, if grass were soft as feather pillows and smooth as satin sheets.

Lying with her afterwards, I might've gone for a doubleheader if I didn’t have so much on my mind. Groaning, I sat up and reached for my jeans.

"You're leaving?" Impossible to miss the sudden chill in her voice.

"Yeah, big day tomorrow," I said, zipping my jeans and reaching for my shirt. In a couple of smooth motions, I slipped my feet into my still-laced sneakers.