The Haunted - Jessica Verday [19]
“I’m talking summer school, Miss Browning.”
What? No way. “But, Mr. Knickerbocker… I can’t. I’m…” Think, think, think, Abbey. Helping the poor? Going on a mission trip? Working in a soup kitchen? “Surely there has to be another way… ,” I protested. “Summer school?”
He frowned. “I’m not happy about it either. Do you think I want to spend my only free time here? I had plans to spend the entire summer floating in my pool, drink in hand.” Mental image: Mr. Knickerbocker in a swimsuit. YUCK.
“What if I… But what about… Ben!” I said. “Ben’s really good at this stuff. What if he tutors me? And then at the end of the summer I can take another test. Like a final exam. Would that work?”
He gave me a look. “Do you think he’d do it?”
Ben? Absolutely. “Yup.”
“I’d put together some notes, of course, for what could be on the test,” Mr. Knickerbocker mused. “That way I’ll know you’re going over everything.” He stuck out his hand for me to shake. “You’ll have to pass this exam, Miss Browning. If you don’t, I’ll give you a failing grade for the entire year, and then you’ll repeat the class. Is it a deal?” Like that wasn’t a ton of pressure or anything. But at least it beat summer school. I shook his hand. “It’s a deal.”
Five minutes later I was climbing into Mom’s car, trying to tell myself that I’d done the right thing. A couple of tutoring sessions with Ben were infinitely better than summer school with Mr. Knickerbocker. Now all I had to do was convince Ben to give up part of his vacation.…
As soon as we got home, I went up to my room to call him. I dialed his number, let it ring once, and then hung up.
Tapping my phone against my forehead, I took a deep breath, then dialed again… and promptly hung up again.
I threw the phone on my bed and paced back and forth. It was just a question. A simple
“Will you do this?” He wouldn’t say no. Would he?
Bracing myself, I picked the phone back up. I… needed a snack first.
I headed downstairs and moved toward the fridge. My phone rang, and I stared at it. Ben’s number flashed on the caller ID. Maybe I should… No, no thinking. Just talking. “Hello?”
“Hi, Abbey,” he said. “Did you just try to call me?”
“Um, yeah. Sorry, I must have had a bad connection or something. The call kept dropping.” Distracting myself with the food in front of me, I pushed a bottle of juice aside and reached for a can of soda.
“Okay. What’s up?”
]I moved to a cabinet and gazed up at a row of snack bags. “I wanted to ask you something, Ben.” There was silence, and I pulled down a bag of pretzel sticks. I ripped it open and quickly ate one, trying to think of the best way to ask him for this favor. “Do you… want to get some pizza with me downtown? In, like, thirty minutes?”
“Yeah. Are you home? I’ll come pick you up.”
“Okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in half an hour, then.” So I was a chicken. But I will ask him over pizza, I vowed to myself. I just hoped his answer would be yes.
Right on time, Ben pulled up in his battered green Jeep Cherokee, Candy Christine. I’d teased him about the name when he’d first told me, but now I thought it was kind of cute. He honked once, and I climbed into his car with a shy “Hey.”
“Don’t forget the sweet spot,” Ben reminded me.
I flashed him a grin. “I won’t.” The seat belt had to be pulled down at just the right angle and then snapped in. Once it clicked, Ben threw the car into gear and we pulled away from the curb.
Turning slightly toward him, I sized him up. He looked… different. Taller, maybe? Although it was hard to tell sitting down. And he was very tan. He’d obviously spent some time out in the sun. His darkened skin really set off his brown eyes.
“So… what are your summer plans?” I said. God, that was ten kinds of lame, but I had to ask him something. If I continued to stare at him much longer, he might get the wrong idea.
“I’m still working at the Horseman’s Haunt. But I’ll be helping my dad out too. He has this grand idea to plant Christmas trees for next year, and I’ve been roped into slave labor.” He smiled, showing off his pearly whites.
A spark