The Fixes (2 page)

1.

This is a story about a boy's first crush
, and how it blew up in his face
.

And all of its explosive consequences.

(You know what? Forget it.)

2.

Let's start over.

Let me tell you why E set off that bomb.

3.

It's the first day of summer vacation. School's out. School's over. Everyone in Capilano is at the beach, on a boat, or up in the mountains on a lake somewhere. Everyone except Eric Connelly.

Eric Connelly is in a hurry. Eric doesn't notice that it's a beautiful day. Eric sure as hell doesn't have any plans to go to the beach. Eric is running late.

(Give him a minute.)

Eric's the kid parking his mom's Mercedes G-Wagen in the near-empty sprawl of the Cap High parking lot. He's the tall, blandly handsome kid climbing out onto the sun-scorched pavement, checking the time on that fancy Omega diving watch and swearing. Walking—
fast
—across the lot to the school, wondering how he's going to make it to his new internship on time.

Eric's the hero of this story. And Eric has places to be.

4.

On a normal day, Cap High is a microcosm of Capilano itself. The building is beautiful, all steel and glass and reclaimed timber. It looks right at home amid Capilano's towering mountains and endless beaches. And it's populated by the best of the best. The elite.

Film directors' kids. Hedge fund managers' offspring. The broods of rock stars, Fortune 500 CEOs, real-estate moguls, athletes, and white-collar criminals. They all call Capilano home.

On a normal day, you couldn't throw a stone around here without hitting, like, four or five Birkin bags. The school parking lot practically screams for a valet. The kids at Cap High are glamorous and gorgeous and they DGAF.

(They're better than you, and they know it.)

(And honestly, so do
you
.)

Today, though, the halls are empty. It's only Eric Connelly, hurrying toward the office. And if you're thinking our hero looks a little out of place amid these glamorous surroundings, you're not entirely wrong.

See, Eric never fit in at Cap. Four years in the place and even now, his senior year finished, he still feels like an alien walking these halls. Sure, he has the Mercedes and the flashy Swiss timepiece. He dresses like the crowd, and his parents have money. He's your typical Cap kid, a poster boy for the school—

(in fact, he's Student of the Year)

—but Eric's different. If you look close, you can see it. It's the sweat on his face as he
hurries
down the hall. It's the way he keeps checking that Omega. It's the way he looks
worried
, like the world
doesn't
revolve around him, like he's actually
late
and that actually
matters
.

People don't
hurry
in Capilano. They don't get
worried
. They pay people to worry for them, and if they're late, the world waits. It's not cool to be stressed, and Eric's stressed all the time.

Ergo, he's not really
of Capilano
.

You know?

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS (FAQ)

Q:
    
Why is Eric stressed?

A:
    
Eric is stressed because he's late for the VERY PRESTIGIOUS internship he landed at his dad's old law office. He forgot to put gas in the G-Wagen this morning, and now he has to swing by Cap High to pick up his Student of the Year plaque—

(they spelled his name wrong the first time)

—but he got caught in beach traffic getting over here, and he has to be at his internship in, like, fifteen minutes, and it's all the way on the other side of Capilano.

Q:
    
Why does a rich kid care about some stupid internship? It's the first day of summer.

A:
    
Right. And for normal people, summer means vacation. Parties, beaches, regrettable hookups. Two glorious months of freedom before college starts. For Eric, summer = work. Eric's headed to law school. Gotta pad those extracurriculars to make sure he gets in.

Q:
    
This guy sounds like a nerd.

A:
    
That's not a question.

Q:
    
Okay, why are you making me read about some dork who can't have any fun?

A:
    
I promise you, Eric's going to have fun. He just doesn't know it yet.

Q:
    
You just said he's rich. Can't he
buy
his way into law school?

A:
    
Good question. If Eric were anyone else at Cap High, the answer would be yes. But Eric isn't anyone else. Eric's a Connelly, and Eric's dad believes Connelly men work for what they get. He's riding Eric hard to get into Stanford. Hence the internship. Hence Eric's nerd-like countenance.

Q:
    
What happens at the end?

A:
    
You really want to know? Eric kills the love of his life and goes to jail. His family disowns him. The end.

Q:
    
Great. And what's Eric's hero's journey?

A:
    
Uh, what? You're totally trying to crib for some essay or something, aren't you? Just read the book, dude. It's not even that long.

5.

Anyway.

The point is, Eric's stressed. Partially because he's late for the VERY PRESTIGIOUS internship, and partially because he's afraid his dad will find out he was late on his first day, and that would be VERY BAD for everyone.

But we're not going to talk about Eric's dad yet.

(You'll hear plenty about him soon enough.)

This book is fundamentally a love story, and love stories need two things:

           
1.
    
A love interest.

           
2.
    
A cheesy
meet cute
.

Lucky for us, we're about to get both.

6.

Eric's footsteps echo down the hall. He passes his old locker, the lunchroom, the computer lab. He makes it to the front of the school, the administration office. There are two people already inside the office when Eric walks in. One is Mrs. Adams, the secretary. The other is Jordan Grant.

Jordan Grant is Harrison Grant's only child. And that makes him **IMPORTANT**.

7.

Jordan Grant
was
is
a senior at Cap High.

(We'll get to that.)

He's pretty well Eric's opposite in every respect. I mean, he looks like an Abercrombie model—tall, built, perpetually tanned—but it's not like Eric's ugly. It's more than that. It's more the way Jordan carries himself. It's the way Jordan looks like he's never had a care in the world.

Jordan's dad is Harrison Grant, one of the most IMPORTANT people in Capilano. He used to be a development executive at Lionsgate, but he quit recently to start his own company. He just sold a TV series about baby geniuses, and Cap High rumor is that he walked away from the deal with, like, low eight figures.

Whatever the truth is, Harrison Grant is obscenely rich. And Jordan Grant is his only kid.

Something else you should know: This last year was Jordan's first year in Capilano. He was living in L.A. with his mom before the school year started. He moved up here with his dad. Nobody at Cap High's really sure what the deal is. Eric heard a rumor Jordan punched out, like, Wiz Khalifa, and that's why he had to get out of town—but nobody's been able to corroborate.

Whatever, though. Jordan's up here now. And since his dad is rich and powerful and important, and Jordan looks like an Abercrombie model and even pops up now and then on TMZ and Defamer, well, he pretty much became king of the school the
moment he walked through the front doors.

And Jordan lives like a king. His Instagram is like a magazine spread: Jordan on a speedboat with a couple of smoking-hot Cap High girls. Jordan at some movie premiere with Chris Pine. Jordan skydiving. Surfing. Jordan with his shirt off.

(Jordan has a six-pack, obvi.)

If Cap High is full of A-listers, Jordan Grant is A-double-plus. He does what he wants, when he wants, with
whoever
he wants—guy or girl—like he's some kind of god who doesn't give a shit about ordinary people's rules.

Jordan Grant is the Man.

(He's also going to be the Love Interest for the purposes of this narrative.)

8.

Does that scare you? The Jordan thing? Did you pick up this book thinking it was going to be all fast cars and hot chicks and explosions?

I'm sorry.

If it's any consolation, the Jordan thing scares Eric, too. Eric's still not sure he's entirely on board with this whole “liking boys” situation. It kind of crept up on him. It's not something he was planning.

Yeah. It scares Eric . . . a lot.

9.

Jordan Grant is sitting on a bench in the secretary's office while Mrs. Adams talks on the phone.

(Jordan's like a Lamborghini at a Taco Bell drive-thru right now, but here he is nonetheless.)

He looks up when Eric walks in, flashes a thousand-watt smile.

“Hey,” he says. “What are
you
in for?”

10.

Eric kind of stammers. Looks at his feet.

(He's blushing already.)

“I mean,” Eric says. “I'm just here to pick up my plaque.”

11.

Mrs. Adams looks up from the phone, sees Eric. Covers the mouthpiece.

“Hi, Eric,” she says. “Just give me a minute. I'll be right with you.”

“What about
me
?” Jordan asks her.

Mrs. Adams gives Jordan a look. “I'll deal with you next, Mr. Grant. Just be patient.”

She goes back to talking on the phone. Jordan lifts an eyebrow at Eric. “Guess she likes you better. What's your secret?”

Eric kind of shifts his weight again. “Pardon?”

“Never mind,” Jordan says. “You're here for a plaque? Like, you won an award or something?”

Eric nods. “They spelled my name wrong when they engraved it, though. That's why I'm here.”

There's an awkward pause. Eric can see Jordan doesn't get it.

“My last name's Connelly,” he says. “Two
n
's and two
l
's. They dropped an
n
, so my dad made me give the plaque back so they could redo it.”

“Aha,” Jordan says. “So what was the award?”

Eric feels himself blushing more. Hates himself for it. “Student of the Year.”

Jordan grins wider.

(Eric thinks:
#Nerd
.)

“Student of the Year,” Jordan says. “Holy humblebrag. Congratulations.”

“Why
are
you here?” Eric asks, to change the subject.

Jordan makes a face. “A math problem. Calculus class, to be exact. They won't let me graduate until I pass.”

This is a strange story. It doesn't make sense. Teachers at Cap High don't just fail anybody, especially not anybodies who happen to be Jordan Grant. Rich kids don't fail. They pull C averages and move up the ladder, annoy their college professors for a while until their parents land them cushy jobs with seven-figure starting salaries.

(#CapilanoLife.)

Jordan sees the look on Eric's face. “Right? Fackrell failed me, though, and if I can't sort this out, I'm coming back to Cap next year.”

“Isn't there any way out?” Eric asks.

(Translation:
Can't your dad, like, make it rain?
)

“I don't think so.” Jordan gestures to Mrs. Adams. “I've been trying to work my charms on the administration, but so far, the best she can do is try to convince Fackrell to let me rewrite the exam.”

Mrs. Adams overhears, and rolls her eyes.

Jordan sighs. “Fackrell says unless I pass the exam, he'll hold me back. I won't graduate. So I'm probably screwed. I barely made it out of math class junior year.”

“I got a ninety-five in calculus,” Eric says, before he even knows what he's saying. “I could, like, tutor you.”

(Bingo. There's our cheesy
meet cute
.)

12.

It's about as cheesy as cheesy can get. Completely contrived.

(Because we all know Eric isn't going to spend more than a couple pages tutoring Jordan Grant.)

For one thing, tutoring is boring to read about. For another, Eric doesn't have time to be tutoring Jordan Grant. He should be kicking ass at his internship. Speaking of which—

“Shit,” Eric says, checking his watch again. “I am really, really freaking late.”

It's about this time that Mrs. Adams hangs up the phone. She smiles at Eric the way your grandmother smiles when you drop by for Christmas.

(The secretaries love Eric.)

(All adults love Eric.)

“Eric,” she says. “You're here about your plaque.” She starts shifting papers. “I know it's around here somewhere.”

Eric tries not to look impatient. He's fifteen minutes late for his internship already.

(I don't know if I mentioned this, but it's a VERY PRESTIGIOUS internship for which his dad pulled beaucoup strings.)

Then Jordan speaks up behind him. “You're serious? You could tutor me?”

Eric glances back at Mrs. Adams, still searching fruitlessly. “I mean, sure,” he tells Jordan.

“I don't know. I'm probably a lost cause.” Jordan flashes
that movie-star smile again, and it kind of makes Eric's stomach do a flip. “But it's worth a shot to save the summer, right? You're good at calculus?”

“Pretty good.”

“Then it's settled.” Jordan holds out his hand. “I'll pay you for your time, of course. Double if I actually pass.”

Eric starts to mumble something about how Jordan doesn't have to pay him. Then Mrs. Adams makes, like, a triumphant noise and lifts the plaque out from under a stack of report cards. “Aha!”

“Sweet.” Eric takes the plaque from Mrs. Adams. Thanks her.

CAPILANO HIGH SCHOOL
, the plaque reads.
ERIC CONNELLY, STUDENT OF THE YEAR.

Jordan peeks over Eric's shoulder. “Student of the Year,” he says. “Rad. Fackrell can
totally
suck it.”