You're What I Want (Y.A Series Book 4) Read online

  Thinking of having all those extra body parts on the first day of school had me chuckling, followed by a slight shiver. Not that I should care or anything if I did. There were people in the world who suffered from extra body parts and they were going about their lives the best they could.

  Moron alert! Insensitive much, Jenna?

  Great, now I felt bad.

  I’m an idiot!

  Shaking it off, I passed Katherine, Annabelle’s younger sister’s room. Her little-girl laugh spilled out despite her door being closed.

  “Ugh, my sister. She’s always in her room talking to herself. You don’t think I’ll become like that right? I’m not crazy like her right?”

  Where is the freaking loyalty? Don’t mess with my best friend! I wanted to yell, but I didn’t.

  Enraged at the lack of sisterly love Katherine displayed, I carried on to Annabelle’s room before I did something I would regret, for which I’d really get banned.

  Annabelle’s room was also closed to the hallway. I took a moment before intruding and heard nothing, so I knocked.

  “Yeah?” Annabelle’s voice rang though.

  I cracked open her door. “Surprise!” I rejoiced, as my best buddy lay still on her bed. She smiled, like it was the first one of the day.

  “Close the door,” she whispered and sat up. I did and joined her on her bed with the duo of green juices in my grasp. I placed them down between us. Annabelle stared at them in disgust.

  “Surprised to see me, long-lost friend?” I faked a growl, grabbing her pillow and “delicately” hitting the side of her face with it. “Totally been flaking on me this past week. What gives, Anna?”

  She stared at the juices for a moment. “Did my mom give you those?”

  I grunted out a laugh. “What gave it away?”

  “I think your mom would drop dead before bringing that stuff into your house. I know your dad would never, ever drink it.” Annabelle smirked, poking the bottle like it was a disgusting concoction of garbage.

  It could have been.

  “He wouldn’t. In fact, if my mom brought this stuff into our house, I think he’d divorce her.” I grabbed a bottle and opened it anyway, taking a whiff and cringing away in disgust. “Man, that’s gnarly!”

  Annabelle’s face contorted in disgust. “You have more guts than I do for smelling that stuff.”

  I stretched over and held the opened bottle just underneath her nose. “Your turn, bestie. Take a whiff, it’ll wake you up a bit. Looking a bit comatose.”

  Annabelle went for the plunge, smelling the juice for a millisecond before yanking her face away as fast as humanly possible. “Yuck. I can’t believe she sent you up here with those.”

  “And the kicker”—I grinned, recapping the bottle—“she said not to drink them ‘too’ quickly.”

  Annabelle rolled her eyes. “She would say that.”

  With the bottles placed on her nightstand, Annabelle and I lay down on our backs and stared at her ceiling. After a few seconds of silence, I voiced what had been on my mind for the last few days. “What’s wrong now?”

  She sighed. “What makes you think there’s something wrong?”

  I nudged her shoulder. “Girl, don’t even start with me.”

  She nudged my shoulder back. “Then don’t start with me. I’m not in the mood.”

  Her tone told me what I wanted to know, so I left it at that. “Are you hungry?”

  She sat up and leaned against her headboard. “Why would you ask that?”

  I was walking a fine line. I didn’t want to say something stupid or insensitive, so I shrugged. “Don’t know, just thought, maybe you’d want a burger or something to rebel with.”

  “Or something,” Annabelle sighed. “I’m fine. The Simms household just had dinner thirty minutes ago, which included a gourmet meal of steamed asparagus and Brussels sprouts with a palm-sized portion of steamed salmon for me, while the rest of my family got pizza and breadsticks.”

  My blood boiled. How dare they do that to her!

  There was nothing wrong with steamed salmon and vegetables, but there was something definitely wrong when the rest of her family got to eat pizza and breadsticks, aka the fun food, without her. Her family was always separating themselves from her. My family never did that crap to me. My mom or dad would have strangled each other if they ever made me feel like that.

  A tear fell from her eyes, but she quickly wiped it away. “I’m not crying over stupid breadsticks and pizza. It’s just… you know.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I sat up next to her against the headboard and nudged her shoulder delicately. “I’m sorry they made you feel like that.”

  She exhaled and stared at her feet. After a minute she glanced up at me with a smile on her face. “Barbeque Wednesday at your Uncle Frank’s house today?”

  “But of course. It’s a Sabini clan summertime ritual. By the way, I’ve come bearing gifts.” I wagged my eyebrows slyly and reached for my tote bag. “Close your eyes.”

  “Oh, I’m excited now.” Annabelle held her hands out, palms up.

  Unzipping my bag, I pulled out the cold cheeseburger and ketchup packet and placed them in her hands. “Open your eyes.”

  Her eyes opened and for the first time since I’d arrived, she looked happy. Giving me a huge grin, Annabelle placed both items to her chest. “A cold cheeseburger with a packet of ketchup from Brucey’s. We really are best friends, Jenna.”

  CHAPTER 1

  *JENNA*

  Wednesday October 31, 2012

  “And, I was mad at you, but I just wanted you to know that I forgive you for taking sides,” Tina slurred with her fang retainer thing on. The rest of her costume was a bright pink halter-top and tiny jean shorts.

  Beach Vampire?

  How… creative (insert mental eye roll).

  I nodded, adjusting the strap of my Xena costume. “All right, Tina, is that it?”

  She grabbed my shoulder and leaned forward. Her breath reeked of alcohol. I pulled back right away.

  Maybe the punch was spiked?

  A taste test was next on the agenda after she was done with her little drunken speech.

  “And, I also want you to know that I’m still dedicated to the team,” she blubbered some more, her eyes going wonky.

  I laughed. “Okay. Is that it?”

  She shook her head, grinning like a drunken idiot. “And, I just wanted you to know that there are no hard feelings.” She giggled and then stopped abruptly to gulp down… something. I wasn’t even going to guess.

  I held her shoulders, stopping her from moving. “Tina, maybe you should chill out on the punch and go sit… or maybe even lie down. Or how about you just don’t move… like at all. This is not the right time or place to barf.”

  She brought her finger to her lips and shushed me until I broke out laughing. Drunk as a skunk Tina was hilarious.

  “I’m in love with Gabe,” she whispered, like it was top secret.

  I raised an eyebrow and searched the crowded gym for Gabe, our fellow swim team member. “Oh really… didn’t know you had a thing for him.”

  Her eyes closed and she slouched in my embrace, holding me for support. “Oh, it’s more than that.” She leaned closer and whispered, “We do stuff, now.”

  Huh? My jaw dropped. When did this happen?

  And as if she heard me, she answered with another giggle/hiccup combo. “After practice, he picks me up and takes me back to his place and we… and we… do stuff.”

  “Stuff,” I repeated, horrified.

  “Stuff,” she repeated seriously.

  Having sex?

  Oh, my god!

  The old Jenna would have wanted answers. She would have wanted to make sure that her fellow swim team member was not being taken advantage of.

  The new Jenna… well… she wanted to make sure her fellow swim team member was not being taken advantage of. “Well, that’s wonderful. Where is Mr. Charming, by the way? I’d like a word.”


  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for an hour.” She hiccupped, looking pitiful.

  I gripped her shoulder tighter. “Tina, listen to me. I think it’s time you revaluated your relationship with Gabe. I mean, what kind of a guy fools around with you and then ditches you? In my books, that’s strike three. You hear me?”

  The world according to Jenna wasn’t as complicated as you might think. There were three things I believed in—holding up three fingers here—:

  Loyalty.

  Friendship.

  Swimming.

  Respect those three things, and you and I will have no problems. Mess with even one and we will.

  Done.

  Tina’s face crumbled into a crying mess. “Jenna, I love him. Don’t do that thing you do.”

  “What thing?” I asked, confused.

  “That Jenna thing, where all the boys go running away, screaming and scared,” Tina screeched.

  That Jenna thing?

  I was a thing now?

  Like the plague?

  “Just forget what I said, okay… you don’t need to talk to anyone. I’m good.” Tina slowly backed away, bumping into our classmates and then turning around, disappearing through the crowd.

  Well, that went well.

  I chuckled and made my way to the refreshment table, grabbing some punch. One sip, and the cat was out of the bag: the punch was spiked.

  I eyed the gym, knowing now that the chaos had nothing to do with Florida weather. Hot as hell, but it’s the burn of alcohol that’s turning us crazy and loud. I laughed at random people trying to dance without stumbling.

  My laughter stopped when I noticed a group of guys from the team. They were in a circle and surprise, surprise, Gabe was front and center, displaying one of his many talents.

  And not surprisingly, Tina found her way to the circle, screaming at her “man,” “Oh, my God, Gabe, you’re like… so talented.”

  Gabe did this chopping thing with his arms and pointed to her. I knew it was called “the Sprinkler,” because my dad did it at a party at my uncle Frank’s house awhile back. It was so embarrassing.

  “Hey, Warrior Princess, you want to dance?” a deep voice said from behind me. I turned around and it was Tom Colleto, or Big Tom, a six-foot-three member of the baseball team, one of the popular guys, and tonight, Count Dracula. His light brown hair was gelled back, creating a sleek look. His blue eyes sparkled, staring down at me with a serious look, despite the fangs.

  “Why would you want to dance with me?” I asked while trying to hide myself behind the cup.

  Tom took the cup from my hands and stepped into my space. “Because I like you, that’s why.”

  “All right, everyone, grab that special someone, this song’s a special one,” the DJ announced, playing a slow song about finding love.

  I gulped, staring into Tom’s blue eyes. This was the first time in my entire life that… “Um… I… I… I have cramps!”

  *~*~*

  *TOM*

  “Stay the fuck away from my girl, Morris.”

  Johnny Reinhart thought he was that guy, the big man on campus just because he was co-captain of the soccer team. They had groupies too, which shocked the baseball team because the soccer team were nothing but weak douchebags with no game.

  Those girls could do way better, especially Reinhart’s ex, Becky. He did that girl dirty in front of everyone in the cafeteria a couple of weeks ago. Staying in a three-year “unofficial” relationship, I’d never get. It made no sense and it was stupid. So, why did Becky stay with him for that long?

  The guy wasn’t worth it.

  Speaking of being worth it, my best bud, Peter Morris would never treat her like that. Dude’s been mad crushing on her for the last month. When Becky showed up in a tiny French Maid costume at the Halloween Dance, every guy turned into a horn-dog, including her douchebag ex who looked like he made the biggest mistake of his life. He kept trying to talk to her, but she was busy dancing with Peter or hanging out with Annabelle.

  If he really loved her, then he should have claimed her in front of everyone. And now it was too late, because there was competition now.

  “You touch her again, I’ll fuck you up.” Johnny growled, a few inches taller than Peter. Not that height would ever scare Peter. That guy, my bro, took no shit from nobody. Johnny would learn soon enough, and if his douchebag brigade decided to back him up, then they’d better pray to God for two reasons.

  1: The dance finished fifteen minutes ago and most of the baseball team were on their way home, leaving only a few of us verses eight of them in the parking lot. And by a few, I meant me, Peter, James and Roy.

  2: I was already pissed off.

  Jenna Sabini, what have you done to me?

  I shook my head, snapping back to reality. Any moment, Reinhart might snap and actually hit Peter, or chest-bump him. Soccer players and their chest bumps, somebody ought to teach them how to really fight.

  Weak: Level 10. Embarrassing.

  I stood behind Peter, letting him mouth off to Johnny while I chuckled at the stuff he came up with on the spot. Peter Morris was a literary genius, a poet, and a philosopher.

  Peter smirked and tightened his black bandana, looking like the ultimate badass biker with a leather jacket and black jeans on. “Get it, bro. She doesn’t want you anymore. You screwed up. You lost. She hates you, told me so while we touched souls, grinding our bodies to soft sweet music in front of the entire school. I’ll never forget what it felt like to hold her. So soft, so fucking nice_”

  Johnny exploded into hulk-mode and charged like a juicehead malfunctioning on roids. Peter blocked the gorilla attack easily and dodged a few steps away. Johnny growled and went for him again, this time his best bud, douchebag Numero deuce – Matthew Fields – grabbed him.

  “Bro, chill.” Matthew urged, eying the school. We all followed his gaze and instantly calmed down. Heading our way, looking pissed off was the shop teacher, Mr. Nolan.

  Just great…. I don’t have time for this shit. I’m already pissed off!

  Not surprisingly, we get off with another warning and were kicked off school grounds for the night. Roy left with Latisha, and I drove past James and Peter who were waiting in their cars on the road for Annabelle and Becky who were using the bathroom inside the school.

  Solo again, what a shocker, not!

  At the light, I switched radio stations, settling on one that played old school music from the fifties. It was chill, and just what I needed to calm my nerves, kind of.

  Rejected Tom was not okay right now. But with the right tunes, the right vibes, he might just get back some mojo. But damn it if a girl didn’t have the power to completely screw with my mood.

  Not just any girl though….

  My A/C was still busted, so I lowered my window and smelled humidity, predicting it would rain within the hour. I glanced over to the passenger seat and wished things had gone differently tonight, wishing I wasn’t alone, wishing the girl I’ve been crushing on was sitting there, smirking at how goofy my costume was and loving it.

  Choosing tonight to lay it all out had been an epic failure. I kept replaying the scene, remembering each detail like a punch to the gut. The last five seconds might scar me for life.

  “Damn, I made her run. I. Made. Her. Run?” I shook my head and exhaled a monster long breath, feeling sick to my stomach.

  It started raining after I parked my car in my driveway. I ran inside my house, but my cape got soaked anyways. The dim light of the television softly lit the living room where an L shaped brown couch was. It was a dream to sleep on and it’s where I found my uncle Rodney snoring. I shut the front door and he woke up.

  He got off the couch and grinned. “So, how was it?”

  I hung my cape up and kicked off my shoes. “Dracula pulled a big fat zero.” I looked how I sounded: Moody.

  My uncle shook his head in disbelief and sat back down on the couch. “Okay, wow. Get your seventeen year old ass over here and le
t’s talk it through.”

  I joined him on the couch and told him a little about Jenna first. “She’s cute, an amazing swimmer, smart, and she’s not scared of nobody, and she stands up for her friends. She’s loyal.”

  “She sounds awesome,” my uncle nodded. “What happened at the dance, you tell her you like her?”

  “Went up to her at the dance, asked her to dance and she wanted to know why and I told her…. because I liked her. She ran away after. I think I scared her or something. Harshest moment ever, and I didn’t see it coming. I’m a genius. Loser mode.” I let out a tiny groan, feeling that pain of rejection burn. It was brutal.

  Uncle Rodney cleared his throat and took a second before responding. “Did it ever occur to you that_”

  “Jenna.” I inserted.

  “Did it ever occur to you that a girl like Jenna might need a bit more groundwork? Buddy, let me tell you something, the good ones never make it easy.” He picked up a throw pillow and smacked my face with it.

  I stuttered a nervous laugh and got up. “I’ve never had this problem before.”

  My uncle turned off the television and joined me going up the stairs, patting my back. “How long have you really liked her for?”

  “Over a year.” I answered. We stopped in front of my room.

  “What were you doing for a year? Sewing your wild oats with the ladies? The baseball team groupie girls?” My uncle grinned, nodding and wagging his eyebrows slyly.

  I shook my head, wanting to change the subject. “Not so much now, but yeah, something like that. Anyways, thanks for the talk. Good night.”

  “Ha, no problem. Good night, and remember, there’s always tomorrow.” Uncle Rodney sighed and headed to his room, and I entered mine. Not having a dad sucked, but having my uncle made up for most of the loss.

  I changed into sleep clothes and got into bed with my phone. There were three missed calls from my mom, and as per usual a voicemail per missed call. They were usually about the same thing and I wasn’t in the mood to hear her drunken speeches about missing her old life or how selfish I was for not answering her calls. So I deleted them all and then a text popped up.