The Romeo Club Page 2

  “Wait, I think she’s got some of me right here too.” He leaned over and kissed my nose, then my chin.

  “And that’s my cue. I’ll catch you later. I promised Mikah I’d go over my chem notes with him.” She rushed away.

  I leaned against Rex. “You know, if you keep that up you’ll get us kicked out of school.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Funny.”

  Across the cafeteria, I spotted Drake coming in the doors. He waved his arms to get my attention, but ended up looking more like a break dancing octopus.

  Rex followed my gaze. “Your brother is such a moron sometimes. It’s hard to believe you’re related.”

  My fist tightened around my brown paper sack as I stood. It was one thing for me to call my brother a moron, but a whole other to hear someone else say it, especially my boyfriend. “Yeah, well, I think he needs me.”

  “Okay. Let him know I’ll bring you home after school.” Rex gave me a quick hug then hurried over to join his buddies.

  Once I threw my trash away, I walked around the edge of the lunchroom to Drake. “So, why are you jumping around like a dork?”

  He grinned and gave me a big hug. “I owe you big time.”

  “Um—okay.” I glanced around to determine if anyone saw him embracing me. “If you don’t want people talking about us, you might want to let me go.”

  He pulled back. “I finally got the balls to ask Chloe out.”

  “Well keep ’em in your pants, I don’t want to see them.”

  “Ha-ha.” He gave me a playful slug in the arm.

  “So, details? When and where are you taking her?”

  “The symphony, this upcoming Saturday.”

  “Nerdy—but she’ll like it. See? Even you can impress the chicks.”

  The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. “Do you need a lift home after school? I know you still don’t have gas money.”

  “No. Rex already called dibs.”

  “Okay. Oh and there’s something I need to talk to you about when you get home. Something kind of important.”

  Students poured through the doors. “Wait. What is it?”

  “We can talk later.”

  Okay, he couldn’t just drop a line like that then take off. What did he mean by ‘something important?’

  “Drake,” I called after him. But he only turned and waved, then disappeared into the crowd.

  Great. Now I’d have to wait for whatever news he had. Did something happen with Mom and Dad? Did he need more style tips? Did he and Chloe get down and dirty in the band room? Not that I wanted to know that. Because EWW.

  ***

  Rex pulled his jeep into our driveway and put it in park. Sun glinted off the windows that lined our wraparound porch. The wind sent the porch-swing banging against the white siding. Cardinals landed on the edge of the birdbath in my yard. They dunked their heads into it, then hopped into the thick grass to look for food.

  As Rex leaned over to kiss me, I glanced over his shoulder, and caught sight of the neighbor’s dog, Jimbo going at our lawn gnome. Sick. The gnome’s mouth was opened in a surprised “o” shape as if trying to scream for help.

  “Hey, get off that,” I yelled out the window.

  Rex glanced behind him and laughed. “Looks like someone’s having fun.”

  I snorted. “I swear that dog humps everything. Last week it was the mailbox. Yesterday, he came into our yard and grabbed all my dad’s tighty-whiteys off the clothesline and brought them into his doghouse to do who knows what with.”

  “Sounds like he has issues.”

  “Tell that to the neighbors.” Good old Mr. and Mrs. Foster. They always seemed like such nice people, and their college aged son wasn’t bad either. So how could they have such a corrupted dog?

  Rex cupped my face then bent down to kiss me. His lips captured mine and I caught the hint of mint from his gum as he pressed closer, dodging the middle console.

  “Do you want to come in for a few?” I asked against his mouth.

  Rex groaned. “Wish I could. But The Jekyll gave us four pages of math.”

  Ms. Jackson, aka The Jekyll, frightening kids since the 1980s. And she still had the big hair and Aqua Net hairspray to prove it. She didn’t merely send kids home with homework, but rather tomes of it.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” After another quick kiss, I hopped out of the vehicle and hurried inside.

  Video game explosions sounded from the family room downstairs, followed by several voices. Great. My brother’s friends, otherwise known as The Nerd Herd were here. Not that I should be surprised. They probably spent the better half of their lives in my basement.

  “Please tell me someone didn’t eat the last slice of cheesecake?” I hollered as I tossed my bag on the kitchen floor and searched the fridge.

  “Sorry,” C.C. yelled. “But I was hungry.”

  Ugh. Of course it was him. C.C. Porter IV, whose real name was Clyde Cornelius. I ought to take his red afro and use it to mop up Jimbo’s grossness from our lawn gnome.

  “Seriously? You guys are pigs.” With a groan, I stomped downstairs to find all four guys seated in front of the TV, game controllers in hand. “I thought I told you yesterday, the cheesecake is off limits.”

  C.C. grinned, his mop of red curls poofed up like five small poodles taking cover on his head. “Aw, does that mean you’re gonna punish me? Because I could use a spanking.” He stretched his long legs out in front of him.

  My brother shot him a quick look and mouthed the words don’t start.

  “Yeah, come on over here, because I think I’ve got a foot I can shove up your ass.” My eyes narrowed.

  “Okay, how about we talk about something else before this turns into World War Delyla.” Trey, Drake’s best friend intervened.

  “He’s right.” My brother flipped off the video game. The other three muttered obscenities and whined. “Besides, I need to talk with her about a few things.” He glanced at them as if threatening bodily harm to the next one who opened their mouth.

  I moved closer to the stone fireplace at the back of the room, careful not to bump into the mantel where my dad’s antique toy trucks were displayed. Uneasiness settled over me as my shoes sunk into the plush, burgundy carpet. What the heck was going on? My gaze rested on Trey who, even I admitted, was kind of hot—in a nerdy way. Dark brown hair, blue eyes that made you envision summer pools and all that Shakespearean stuff. Not that I’d tell him of course. We’d grown up next door to one another and he, Drake, and I had been best buds since they were two and I was one. We practically lived at one another’s houses.

  The Nerd Herd grew quiet as they stared at me. “Okay, you guys are weirding me out. What’s going on?”

  “I want a cross between Princess Leia and Wonder Woman,” C.C. blurted.

  At the same time, Kevin said, “Maybe someone like the chick from Dark Invaders IV.”

  “Um—hold on, what are you guys talking about?”

  “Quiet down.” Drake held up his hands then turned to me. “Here’s the thing. I kind of told them about you helping me land Chloe.”

  “I thought you wanted to keep it a secret.”

  “Yeah, about that.” He gave me a sheepish smile.

  Oh hell. What did he do? “Drake?”

  “All right. They want you to help them out too. I mean, you did such a good job with me. Besides, you’re already popular and have an in. You could teach them the ropes.”

  “Whoa. Are you crazy? How am I supposed to do that? Besides they want some Princess Leia, Wonder Woman, and a Battle Worn hybrid. And in case you didn’t realize, this is reality.” Holy balls. This wasn’t quite what I expected when my brother said he had something important to discuss. Because on my scale of one to important this ranked like a negative ten. My eyes moved over the group and rested on Kevin’s short, skinny frame, which sank into his chair like he’d succumbed to a pit of q
uick sand. His gray and olive sweater washed him out. He fiddled with the side of his black suede skater shoes.

  “Please, Delyla.” C.C. stood and came over to me. He reminded me of a clown on stilts. Crazy red hair poofed around his head like a fiery cotton ball. “I’m sorry I took your cake. Really, I am. But, please, at least consider this. Think of us as your science experiments.”

  My arms crossed in front of me. “I don’t like science.”

  “We’d be willing to negotiate some sort of payment.” Kevin pulled his beanie down over his mousy brown hair. “Drake told us you’re saving up for your prom dress. We could help you—if you helped us.”

  “Aw, great—you go right for the big guns.” C.C. threw his hands in the air. Geez, he was a bigger drama queen than me.

  “Wait. You guys would be willing to pay me? To help you change your image?”

  “And land girlfriends,” C.C. said.

  Oh, my gosh. They were right. If I did this, I could get my dress. And I wouldn’t have to resort to begging my parents for more chores, or babysitting the monsters down the street. Yeah, but look at them. This won’t be easy. They reminded me of the old men’s clothing ads in Sunday Press. Not to mention they had no idea how to interact with the human species. Other than their moms, I was certain I was the only girl they’d ever talked to. But I can get my dress. Gah. Please don’t let me regret this. “So what kinds of things would I need to help you with?”

  Trey cleared his throat and adjusted his stylish, square glasses. “How to talk to girls. Ask them out. How to shop. That kind of thing.”

  ‘That kind of thing’ was right up my alley. “Okay, here’s the deal. If I help you with this, you have to do what I say. No questions asked. And we’ll have to work out some kind of payment plan. What were you guys thinking?”

  “Fifty a week. Each,” Kevin said.

  “Plus extra payments if we need extra suggestions or help,” Trey said.

  My heart thudded in my ears. This was awesome. It’d be easy. But I’d need to lay some ground rules. “Okay—if I agree then we’ll have set up a schedule for you guys. This means you’ll show up at our house for lessons. You’ll agree to at least one trip to the mall and the hair dresser.” My gaze flitted to C.C. “And you have to keep things reasonable. Don’t expect to become the most popular dudes overnight.”

  “So you’ll do it?” Drake leaned against the wood paneled wall, his arms crossed at his chest.

  Good lord, I must be crazy. I smiled. “Yes. The first meeting of the Romeo Club is now in session boys. Your first assignment is I want each of you to make me a more specific list of what you’re looking to get from this. That way, I’ll know better what to focus on.”

  “Romeo Club, really?” C.C. snorted.

  “Would you rather be called the Nerd Herd?” I rolled my eyes.

  “No. But maybe something cooler like Phantom Warriors of the Underworld.” He propped his feet up on the coffee table.

  I reached over and knocked them down. “How about I’m the one heading this so I get to name it.”

  “Just so you know, I’m not offing myself for any girl,” C.C. muttered.

  Trey laughed. “Yeah, don’t think that’ll be a problem, Romeo.” He glanced at me. “We’ll take your deal.”

  “Then it’s official. We get started right away.”

  Chapter 4

  I sat on the couch, mashed between C.C., Kevin and Trey as they filled out their lists. Drake threw back a pop, watching the guys, while I scoured my practice schedule on my cell.

  “Okay, so I have Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday evenings open. We can meet here after my soccer practices. Then if you need a more private lesson or one-on-one session, we can do those on Sundays.”

  C.C. grinned. “Private lessons?”

  Trey rolled his eyes and slugged him in the arm. “Yeah, don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

  I put my finger in my mouth in a fake barfing motion. “Um—so not in this lifetime.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.” C.C. winked. He flexed his gangly, freckle covered arm as if to impress us.

  “I’m betting it’s not much.” Trey nudged me.

  Several minutes later, when the guys finished, they handed me their papers. “Okay, I’ll go over them tonight and talk with you tomorrow.”

  Kevin groaned. “So we have to wait?”

  “Hey, how am I supposed to help you if I’m not sure what you need or want from this?”

  “Give the lady some room. I don’t want her screwing this up for us.” C.C. stood, grabbing his corduroy jacket from a nearby chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my dear, sweet Julietish girl.”

  The boys climbed the steps and headed out of the family room. My brother plopped down next to me with a sigh. “You know, I owe you one. I think you just made their night by doing this.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t go thanking me yet, I’m not sure how reasonable their lists are gonna be or if I can help them.”

  He chuckled, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Actually, I think you underestimate yourself. Look what you did for me and Chloe.”

  “Yeah, but I think she already had you on her radar. This is starting from scratch. I mean, have you seen what I have to work with? C.C. can be ridiculous at times. And Kevin is so shy, he barely talks to people.”

  He patted my leg. “Trust me. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

  I hoped so because I sure needed the money. But even I admitted that sometimes things were out of my hands.

  “Dinner,” Mom hollered from upstairs.

  We trudged to the dining room, like two soldiers heading to war. My fingers brushed against the side of the china cabinet, which at the moment had no dishes in it. Rather Dad’s antique toy trucks cluttered the shelves beside Mom’s bazillion cookbooks. Blue and white curtains billowed in the breeze that snuck in the opened window. Maybe now would be a good time to crawl out.

  We slid into our chairs, the brass chandelier twinkling above.

  My nose wrinkled as the stench of meatloaf casserole and lima beans swirled in the air. “Oh God, she’s trying to kill us.”

  “Maybe we should tell her we already ate.” Drake covered his face with his hand. “Or better yet, tell her I’m sick and went right to bed.”

  “No way in hell. If I have to eat this crap, then so do you.”

  I partially blamed my dad for all this. Mom was a fab accountant, but couldn’t cook to save her life. But there Dad sat, every night, praising her culinary skills when she made up dishes like meatloaf casserole. Which consisted of meatloaf tossed into a pot of macaroni noodles and covered with ketchup. I mean, who in their right mind thought this even sounded good? I considered maybe Dad was really a robot and couldn’t taste the stuff she put in front of us. Either that or she’d destroyed his taste buds years ago and now he was immune.

  With a sigh, I watched as my parents pushed into the room. Dad sat across from me in his high-backed chair and tucked a beige napkin into the collar of his shirt. Beside him, he already had his newspaper out. The man spent most of our meals absorbed in some local or national paper.

  “Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.” Dad swatted Mom on the butt. “You added cheese to the casserole. Smells delicious.”

  Drake coughed, hiding a smirk as he scooted his chair closer to mine.

  I grabbed a glass of ice water and slurped it down, hoping it’d make my throat more slick so the nasty food would slide down easier.

  “You two haven’t seen my black, lacy bra, have you?” Mom scooped a too large helping of barf-loaf casserole onto my plate. “If you borrowed it that’s okay, but could you return it?” She stared at me expectantly.

  My gaze fell on her watermelon sized hooters. In what lifetime did she even think I’d be able to fit into it? Well, unless I stuffed it with my soccer balls. “No—I have my own undergarments.”

  “And no chest,�
�� Drake whispered.

  I kicked him under the table.

  “Bruce, you didn’t shove it under the bed after the other night did you?”

  “Some of us are trying to eat here.” Geez, did they think I wanted to hear about their mid-life romps in the bedroom. Can you say NO. Totally sick.

  Dad grinned. “Hey, just because we’re old and have kids doesn’t mean … ”

  I covered my ears. “I’m not listening. La-la-la-la.”

  Mom shook her head. “Well, I’m just trying to figure out where it went. Seems like a lot of our undergarments have gone missing lately.”

  “You should ask the neighbors,” I said.

  Mom’s eyes widened. “Trey took it?”

  With a snort, I spewed water down the front of my shirt at the thought of him sneaking into our yard. “No. I meant the other neighbors—you know Jimbo, the dog with underwear fetishes?”

  “Delyla!” Dad said.

  “What? He steals our stuff all the time. I mean, most people actually use a dryer now days and don’t hang their unmentionables out for everyone to see.”

  “Yes, and dryers run up electricity bills,” Dad, codenamed: Frugal Father, said. “Besides, we have no proof that Jimbo is the one taking things. Maybe there’s some weird kid running around the neighborhood stealing clothes.”

  Right. Because every teenager I know wants to take my parents’ undergarments. Woot-woot, bring on the tighty-whiteys and bras the size of parachutes.

  After being subjected to unwanted parental talks for a half an hour, I finally managed to escape the dinner table. When I got to my room, I flicked on my light, grabbed the lists the Nerd Herd made, and plopped on my bed to read through them. My gaze darted over my dark blue walls to the poster of Javier Decorum—only the hottest professional soccer play ever. His dark eyes seemed to stare at me from the picture. Sigh. What I wouldn’t give to meet him. Sometimes, when I got bored, I pretended he was smiling at me. And the finger he pointed toward the net, was really pointing at me.

  Hey, a girl can dream. I blew my poster a kiss then turned back to the papers I held.