Perfect Cover (18 page)

CHAPTER 30

Code Word: Attraction

“You normally bring your little brother on dates with you?”

“Bite me. And watch the road.”

From the backseat, Noah watched the interplay between Jack and me, fascinated. How could I have forgotten that I’d sort of agreed to let John Peyton IV pick me up at seven? What kind of idiot was I?

“Whatever you say, Ev,” Jack said.

There it was again: the nickname, accompanied, as always, by the smirk.

“FYI, Smirk Boy, this isn’t a date,” I informed him tersely.

“You’re giving me a ride to the party. Once we’re there, if you’re lucky, you’ll be one of the less nauseating people to interact with, and maybe I’ll give you the time of day.”

“Oh, Ev, stop. You’re making me blush.”

I know, I know. I was supposed to be flirting with him. I wasn’t supposed to be trying to wipe the cocky smile off his face, but hey, it was my FT, and I’d do what I wanted to. Besides, he was just so…so…

“Great outfit, by the way. What? You didn’t have time to deface the belt buckle?” Jack took his eyes off the road just long enough to meet mine with a grin.

I could only hope that the sparkly buckle in question would give him the aneurysm and not me.

“It was a gift,” I said dryly.

“From the twins?” Jack asked.

I was a teensy bit surprised that he was observant enough to have figured out who won the Most Likely to Give Toby Hideously Girly Accessories competition.

Jack laughed at the look on my face. “Please,” he said. “This happens whenever anyone makes the Varsity Spirit Squad. The twins glitterfy them.”

The way he spoke about the squad and the way it worked was somewhat unsettling. It wasn’t that I expected the fact that I’d been majorly made over to go straight over everyone’s head; I just didn’t think that anyone would pinpoint the twins as the reason why, and I didn’t think anyone would remember enough about makeovers past to know that this was a pattern with them.

“They call it the God Squad for a reason,” Jack said. He shrugged and then glanced at me out of the side of his eyes.

“You enjoying your high school divinity?”

“I call it the Bod Squad,” Noah said, eager to join in the conversation from the backseat.

“Understandable,” Jack replied, his tone gratingly solemn.

“The next one of you to call it anything,” I said, “is going to end up with a sparkly belt buckle jammed so far up your butt that you’ll be sneezing glitter for two weeks.”

As a threat, it wasn’t my best, but considering the fact that I was in a car with my oversexed younger brother, a guy who took a great deal of sadistic pleasure in rubbing me the wrong way, and a really obnoxiously sparkly belt, it wasn’t half bad.

“Glitter?” Jack stared at me for a moment, his facial expression changing in a way that I couldn’t quite read. Even if I hadn’t been looking back at him, I would have felt his gaze. It was that tangible.

Then Jack treated me to another shrug. As he turned onto April’s street, he shot Noah a conspiratorial look. “Is it me,” he said, “or is she somewhat obsessed with my butt?”

I turned around to face Noah, and for once, he wisely remained silent.

As Jack pulled through the giant, open wrought-iron gate and onto April’s absurdly long private drive, I took in both the incredible size of Château April and the way that Jack’s eyes followed my every move.

Even from inside the car, I could hear the music blaring from April’s house.

The private drive was lined with cars, and A-list teenagers spilled out, moving en masse toward the house. When Bayport High’s Varsity Spirit Squad partied, it turned into a who’s who of the high school world. The three of us got out and I wasn’t actually that surprised when I saw a handful of football players at the door, sorting out the riffraff. The guys didn’t so much as blink when they saw me, former Queen of Riffraff, climb up the front steps. Instead, they eyed my white pants appreciatively and greeted me with whistles.

“Toby,” Chip said. “Good to see you.”

I noticed that he didn’t make a physical move on me. Wise decision, Chip. I wondered how his shin was doing, but didn’t waste much time thinking about it. As Jack and I moved past the doorway, one of the football players leaned forward to stop Noah.

“Nice try, kid,” he said.

Before one of the others could recognize Noah as the guy who was forever chatting up their girlfriends, I stuck my hand back and grabbed him by the popped collar. “He’s with me,” I said.

Noah grinned wildly. “I’m with her,” he said, and when the football players grudgingly allowed him to pass, Noah couldn’t resist. “Keep up the good work,” he told them, reaching out and patting their lapels.

Jack choked back laughter, but I saw it in his eyes.

The smirk I could deal with.

Arrogance I could deal with.

Mr. Gorgeous finding my adorkable younger brother amusing? That one was a little bit harder.

Noah took off then, no doubt in a state of absolute ecstasy, and I was left alone with Jack.

“He seems like a good kid,” Jack said.

“He’s an idiot,” I replied. “If it wasn’t for me, he’d be dead by now.”

Jack leaned back against a wall. “Do I sense a sweet side, Ev?”

It was too much. I was there, and he was there, and he wasn’t being completely horrible, and I didn’t know how to flirt. So I did the next logical thing. I ran. Well, I didn’t actually run, seeing as how the fashion boots made that a physical impossibility, but I did leave Jack to follow Noah with a great deal of speed and very little explanation.

“I’ll be back in a second,” I called over my shoulder.

Jack crossed one foot over the other and continued leaning on the wall, his eyes still on me.

As I did my best to follow Noah through the crowd, the song changed, and I grimaced. Either the DJ had a personal vendetta against everyone there, or everyone at the party other than me had completely horrible taste in music. This shouldn’t have surprised me, granted, but honestly, is a little bit of the Pixies too much to ask for? Mayhaps some Sonic Youth? Anything that’s not sung by an actress/singer or a rapper/pimp? When it comes to music, slashes are never a good thing.

I caught up with Noah, and proving once more that it is completely impossible that we could possibly share any DNA whatsoever, he grinned broadly. “I love this song.” A group of girls strutted by, moving their hips to the music as they walked, and Noah raised his eyes heavenward. “I
really
love this song.”

As much as I hated to interrupt his prayer of thanksgiving, I felt compelled to reissue my warning. “If you get into a fight, you’re on your own.”

My words had less than no impact on his cathartic experience.

“Toby!!”

I only knew one person who spoke with two exclamation marks in her voice.

“Hi, Lucy.”

“Isn’t April’s house amazing? Doesn’t it look…”

Like something out of
Laguna Beach
? Or possibly what it would look like if Lindsay Lohan and Usher made a music video together?

“…like totally amazing?”

“Amazing,” Noah repeated.

Lucy smiled at him. “Hi!” She punctuated her greeting with a wave.

Feeling strangely compelled to protect both Noah and Lucy from inevitable disaster, I tried to warn Lucy that waving at my brother while wearing a tube top could have major consequences, but a hand on my shoulder stopped the words in my mouth.

“Your outfit is so cute,” Brittany said, her eyes sparkling.

“You have such incredible taste,” Tiffany chimed in.

I rolled my eyes, but with Noah standing there, I couldn’t stop their self-congratulations.

“Your necklace is off center, though,” Britt said. “Here, let me.” She reached up and fiddled with the charm around my neck, turning it ninety degrees to the right. “There,” she said, and the real meaning behind her words (and the fiddling) didn’t escape me. She’d turned on the video and audio feed in the necklace. I was officially good to go.

If only I knew how to go about seducing someone.

No sooner had thoughts of seduction crossed my mind than I caught Jack’s eye. He was still standing where I’d left him, but had since been surrounded by a mass of girls, all vying for his attention. The smirky smile was back on his face.

“Go talk to him.” Tara’s voice was soft—her words were encouragement, not an order.

“I should probably stick with Noah for a while,” I said.

“You know, just until I’m sure that—”

“We’ll take care of your brother.” Tara nudged Brittany, who nudged Tiffany.

“Hey, Noah,” the twins called in unison, and moments later, an arm around each twin, Noah left me behind in the dust.

I buried my head in my hands. “He’ll be impossible to live with now.”

Tara smiled, and not so subtly, she nodded her head in Jack’s general direction.

“You know,” Lucy said thoughtfully. “Your brother’s kind of cute.”

Not again.

“No matter what you do,” I said, “do not let him hear you say that.”

Lucy giggled and shrugged.

I turned back to Tara. “The twins won’t…they won’t do anything to him, will they?”

Tara shook her head, her eyes filled with mirth, and then she nodded toward Jack once more. “I’ll keep an eye on them,” she promised. “I’ll even drive Noah home. You—”

This time, I nodded toward Jack before she could. “Yeah, I know. I know.”

“Think of it as going into battle,” Tara said.

“Yeah,” I muttered, thinking of the way Jack had been with Noah. “Just look how well that turned out for Brooke and Zee.”

I didn’t mean it to come off sounding flippant, but it did. Lucy didn’t seem to notice, and Tara took no offense.

“Brooke and Zee are on their way back from the spa,” Lucy said brightly.

“The spa,” I repeated, remembering the cover story.

“And the…uhh…” I knew nothing about spas and was having a great deal of difficulty coming up with a code word for gunfire.

“The mud bath?” Tara suggested. “It turned out just fine.” She lowered her voice. “Brooke was wearing one of Lucy’s special bras, so there was no mud-related damage.”

I remembered the bulletproof push-up bras Lucy had gushed about my first day in the Quad and then turned back to the weapons designer in question, who was singing along with Hilary Duff, my brother and his supposed cuteness completely forgotten—out of sight, out of mind. She was smiling and bouncing and moving around like someone with more energy than she knew what to do with.

And she’d saved Brooke’s life.

“Now go.” This time, Tara actually gave me a little shove on the shoulder. “Do your thing.”

At that moment, Jack saw me looking at him, and for my benefit, he put his arm around another girl.

I snorted, ripped my belt off and dropped it on the floor, and marched over to do my thing and wipe the smirk right off his face.

CHAPTER 31

Code Word: Want

“Why, Ev, what a pleasant surprise.”

If this was his way of getting back at me for chickening out on our date, he was more delusional than I could possibly say. He was my mission, not my boyfriend, and I was not jealous.

“Guys,” Jack said, smiling at his legion of loyal fans, “this is Everybody-Knows-Toby.” He paused. “Although,” he said, looking thoughtful, “I suppose you all already knew that.”

Oh yeah. He thought he was really cute.

The girls clustered around Jack obviously thought so, too, but I remembered what Zee had said. These girls weren’t his type—Jack had Conditioned Cheerleader Aversion, and most, if not all, of the girls were either JV cheerleaders or varsity wannabes. As such, they were completely torn about what to do once I showed up. On the one hand, they would have liked to devour me whole for taking even a microscopic bit of Jack’s attention away from them. On the other hand, I was varsity, and that meant that their futures were in my hands.

“Of course,” one of the girls said, offering me a plastic smile. “Everybody knows Toby.”

Another girl tilted her head to the side. “Are you the one who’s related to Calvin Klein?”

“Those are great boots.”

“Did you really date Prince William?”

They were on a roll now.

“Actually,” I said, lowering my voice, “I didn’t date Prince William, but…”

Jack watched, bemused, as all of the girls leaned toward me, eyes wide.

“…but I heard that Jack did.”

Two of the girls frowned at me. One cast a suspicious look at Jack. The fourth was a little behind on processing and just stood there, smiling and nodding.

Jack grabbed me by the elbow. “Excuse us, ladies,” he said. “Toby”—he emphasized his use of my actual name—“and I were going to go grab some punch.”

With a great deal of expertise, he steered me away from the girls before I could suggest that he’d dated any more of the world’s most eligible bachelors. Smart boy.

I didn’t know where he was taking me until we ended up outside on a veranda. Alone.

Uh-oh. Not good, I thought. We were supposed to end up alone, but not here. Somehow, I had to get him to take me to his dad’s office. I was also unsure as to his state of mind. Some guys—okay, most guys—would probably greatly resent the insinuation that they’d dated the heir to the throne of England.

I tensed my body slightly. If Jack was feeling like lashing out at me, I wanted to be ready to lash back. Actually, I wanted my foot to be ready to lash back. The rest of me would just go along for the ride.

Jack opened his mouth, and I waited for him to yell. “Did you see their faces?” he asked quietly. “I can’t believe you…and they…”

I shrugged. He didn’t sound particularly murderous.

“Ev, you told them that Prince William and I were an item.”

I scuffed my foot into the ground. “Better you than me.”

“Better me than you,” he repeated, and then he laughed, loud and long. “You’re…”

“Clever?” I suggested.

“You’re something,” he finished. “When I figure out what it is, I’ll tell you.”

I had to remind myself that this was Brooke’s ex. Chloe’s ex. He had a substance abuse problem, and the substance was cheerleaders. He hadn’t even known who I was pre-Squad. He was my mission, and I was not the girl who fell for a guy just because he had a really contagious laugh.

“So what are we going to do out here?” I asked. I meant to sound somewhat seductive, but it came out sounding confused. What was I doing? More to the point, who was watching me make a fool of myself through the handy-dandy necklace camera?

“What do you want to do out here?” Jack didn’t move toward me at all with the words. I appreciated the respect for my personal space.

“Why don’t we race?” It was a stab in the dark, but I never claimed to be good at this.

“Race to where?” Jack asked. It was a pretty small veranda.

“To the car,” I said. “Winner decides where we go from there.”

Given the fact that I was almost positive that I could beat him in a fair race, it was a stroke of genius.

“Race to the car,” Jack tried the idea out by saying it out loud.

I nodded.

“This thing really isn’t your deal, is it?” he asked.

“What thing? The party?” I asked, planning to press the whole “race to the car” thing.

“The party,” Jack confirmed. “The squad, the whole popularity thing.” He paused. “You’d rather those girls think that I dated Prince William than that you did.”

“Your point?”

“Why are you a cheerleader?”

He sounded suspicious. Darned Cheerleader Aversion.

“If I tell you, can we race?”

He nodded. “Why the hell not.”

I mulled the question over, trying to come up with an answer that was at least partially true. “I like to do things that people tell me I can’t,” I said finally. “And nobody ever thought I’d make the Squad.”

Least of all me.

“Huh,” Jack said. And then, without another word, he bolted off the veranda and back into the party. It took me a couple of seconds to figure out that he was headed to the car.

“Cheater!” I yelled after him. I quickly scanned the surrounding area. He had enough of a head start that there was no way I could beat him taking the same route. Luckily, there was one other route available. Casting a single dubious look at my boots, I climbed on top of the railing, jumped off the veranda, and landed on the ground outside, a full story below. Not knowing how much time I’d bought myself, I ran full blast for the car.

By the time Jack got there, I’d taken off my boots and was pretending to buff my nails.

He looked from me back up to the veranda. “You jumped.”

I nodded.

“Cheater.”

I could feel the smile spread across my face. Ah, the sweet taste of victory.

Gallantly, he walked around to my side of the car and opened the door for me. I snorted. He ignored me.

After he’d settled himself in the driver’s seat, he turned to me. “So,” he said. “Where are we going?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say his dad’s office, but something stopped me. I wasn’t the first one to use Jack to get to Peyton. If I asked to go there directly, who knew what kind of memories I was going to stir up? The last thing I wanted was for him to compare me to Chloe or Brooke.

“I don’t know where we’re going,” I said slowly, “but I know what we’re doing.”

Jack waited.

“Actually,” I said, divinely inspired, “I know what you’re doing.”

“What I’m doing?”

“It involves a Xerox machine and your butt,” I said. He blanched, and I continued. “Such is the price of defeat.”

“You want me to xerox my butt?”

I shrugged. “It beats this place. Where’s the nearest copy shop?”

Jack, still unsure whether I was mentally unstable or just highly unpredictable, turned the car on and put it in drive. “I’ve got someplace else in mind,” he said.

“Does it have a copy machine?” I asked. Translation: is it your dad’s office?

Jack didn’t answer. Instead, he smirked and pulled onto the road. “You know, Ev,” he said, “this obsession with my butt is getting old.”