The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back Read online

  "Understandable. What's this?" Jake fingered the piece of tape and started to pull on it. I came out of my shocked haze and practically leapt on top of the sketchbook.

  "N-nothing," I stuttered. We had things in common. We could possibly get along very well. He could fall in love with me, even. The absolute last thing I needed was for him to get a look at the depth of my craziness.

  I put the book under my chair and sat down, careful to keep my feet on top of it. No way could I ever let him see those pictures of him. Jake shrugged it off, shuffled the deck and started dealing. "Just basic poker then, right?"

  "Yeah," I said. "Sure."

  "So is it just a hobby or do you want to do something more with it?"

  I picked up my five cards and looked them over quickly. I had two tens. I gave back the other three cards, and he handed me three new ones. "You mean poker?"

  He laughed. "No, I meant your manga."

  I picked up three more junk cards. It didn't matter. I wasn't playing to win yet.

  "Oh. Well, to my parents' dismay, I want to go to UC Santa Ana. They have an amazing animation program and I can focus on manga. They have these great internships, the opportunity to work with actual studios, it's awesome. I mean, if I wanted to major in drawing manga specifically I'd probably have to go to school in Japan. And I'm not about to make my mother that happy."

  Jake had another funny look on his face but didn't ask me to explain about Pearl, for which I felt grateful. Not exactly an appropriate first fake-date conversation topic. Instead he said, "I got offered a full-ride baseball scholarship to UC Santa Ana."

  "Small world," I managed. I never, ever imagined that Jake and I might end up at the same college.

  "Yeah, but a UC school's not good enough for my dad. Has to be Yale for undergrad and then Harvard Law like my dad and my grandpa and my great-grandpa." He tossed a chip into the pile and I anted up.

  That one sentence dashed my newly created daydreams of us attending the same college. It might be harder for me to ever date him if we were on different coasts. But this wasn't about me. It was about the tone in his voice. The one that said this did not make him happy. I wondered why. "You don't want to go to Yale?"

  "Let's not talk about that," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Let's talk about…the election."

  "What about it? I'll raise you fifty."

  He put his chips in. "Why are you running?"

  "Why not? Maybe you could stand a little competition"

  "Maybe. I call."

  Jake won that hand and he smiled a real smile at me as he pulled the pot over to his side of the table. I could see how much he liked to win. I was sure he thought he would win the election for senior class president because he was good-looking and popular and rich and good-looking and an athlete and good-looking. Well, obviously, that was why everyone in school would vote for him. At least, that was why the other good-looking, rich and popular types would vote for him. The wannabes too.

  But as he sat there grinning at me, I wondered, what about everyone else? The other ninety-nine percent of the school? They weren't like Jake.

  They were like me.

  I could even see my future campaign: Mattie Lowe: She's not popular and she's not beautiful, so she has time for student government.

  I wondered if Ella could fit that on a pink, glittery campaign poster.

  The thought of my stepsister made me feel guilty all over again. No, I reminded myself, she said she didn't mind if I liked Jake. I wondered if Jake had thought about Ella while at our house. But he hadn't asked about her and I hadn't noticed that he seemed too heartbroken over the break-up. I thought he should be at least a little upset. But to be fair, Ella didn't seem all that put out by it either.

  I decided not to think about Ella. I needed to focus on Jake and our friendly game. I watched for his tells. I had to lose several hands to build up his confidence and to read him. Not that this was a burden; as I'd mentioned earlier, Jake-watching was one of my favorite things. I noticed that he would put his hand near his mouth when he was bluffing. His eyebrows would go up slightly when he had a good hand.

  "Really aren't that good, are you?"

  I gave him my best crocodile smile. Time to move in for the kill. "Again?"

  He shuffled the deck. "Why don't we make it interesting?"

  An image of a shirtless Jake flashed in front of my eyes. Stop it, I told my brain. I blinked. "What did you have in mind?"

  "If I win this next hand, you do seventy-five percent of the project." At my expression he held his hands out in front of him. "Not trying to be a jerk again—I really am super busy. I had to tell coach that I was really sick to miss practice so that I could come over here."

  He missed practice for me? My heart sped up just a little. "Okay."

  "And if you win…" he trailed off, letting me name my prize.

  I would definitely win. There was no question of that. He was essentially handing me a blank check. I could have anything Jake-related that I wanted.

  A kiss? My cheeks flushed and I bit the inside of my mouth to keep myself from blurting it out. A girl could only handle so much pathetic in one day. And to be honest, I didn't want a kiss that I basically had to blackmail or trick out of him.

  Huh. Turned out I did have some pride where Jake was concerned. Who knew?

  But what could I ask for…my mind flashed on stupid Mercedes Bentley. I tried to keep from smiling. It would be like getting to kill two birds with one bet. I couldn't quite look him in the eye.

  "If I win, you drive me to school every morning for two weeks."

  "Won't that be a little awkward after elections?"

  "We'll see." The idea of spending time alone with him in a confined space really appealed to me. And the look on Mercedes Bentley's face when she saw me with him would make it even better.

  "You got it." Jake held his hand out to shake on it. His hand felt big and strong, enclosing mine. A sudden jolt of energy exploded inside my hand and shot down my arm. I quickly pulled my hand away.

  He had a knowing smile, like he knew exactly the effect he had on me. I used the bottom of my shirt to clean my black-rimmed glasses so that I wouldn't have to look at him while he dealt the cards.

  I ended up with three queens. I doubted he would have a better hand. Despite his cockiness, he wasn't all that great of a player.

  I watched while he pushed all his chips to the middle. "I am all in."

  He put his right hand near his mouth. He was bluffing, and trying to scare me into folding. No chance.

  I made sure my super poker face was intact so that I wouldn't reveal my glee. I put my cards down and pushed my remaining chips toward the middle too. "I am all in, too."

  I lay my cards out for him to see. His expression went from cocky to shock to disbelief. He revealed his own hand; he had a pair of threes.

  "I lost."

  "Yup," I confirmed as I used both arms to sweep all the chips to me.

  "I never lose. Ever."

  "Maybe you should get used to it. For when I trounce you as senior class president."

  "You were playing me. You're like some card shark."

  I shrugged in reply and started putting the chips back into place.

  His eyes bored into mine, like he was trying to figure me out. "You didn't mention that."

  "You didn't ask."

  "So, you knew you would win," he said.

  I shrugged again and avoided eye contact. The rumbling of my father's car pulling into the garage startled me. When it came to my dad, you never knew what you were going to get. He might come in, say hello, and wander off to his studio. Or he might decide today was a good day to be interested in my life and totally humiliate me in front of Jake by telling stupid stories about me and asking him inappropriate and personal questions.

  I didn't know whether my father would come in through the garage or if he'd get the mail and come in the front door. Taking Jake out back seemed like the safest bet. "Um, the
sun's about to set and it's really beautiful out back on the beach. You want to see it?"

  He got up and started to follow me until we got to the doorway. Then he took me gently by my upper arm and that same jolt of electricity fired up again everywhere that he touched me. I turned around and he stood so close to me that my breath caught.

  "You sure a ride to school is all you wanted?"

  He leaned against the doorframe, towering over me, trapping me. He sounded like…a cat or something. His voice was low, seductive, practically purring.

  Tingles, tingles, everywhere.

  We stood there for a minute, staring at each other, before I remembered where I was and what I had been doing and that I might be potentially busted by my dad at any moment. "The back door is this way," I whispered.

  His grip loosened. I walked to the back of the house, hoping we were quick enough. I cursed myself for my inability to be in control for longer than two minutes where he was concerned. I couldn't even keep my voice normal when all he was doing was looking at me.

  I heard the front door open a second before I closed the back door. I let out a sigh of relief. More likely than not, Dad would head for his studio and would be there the rest of the night. I kicked off my shoes. I loved the feel of the sand against my bare feet. We needed to put some distance between us and the house. Distracted, I didn't look where I was going, and practically tripped over several enormous water guns that our next-door neighbor's kids had left outside. The Johnsons had four unruly boys, all under the age of nine, and they were forever leaving stuff on our part of the beach. I flailed my arms for a second before righting myself. My face felt hot and flushed. I didn't need my dad to embarrass me. I was perfectly capable of making my own spectacle.

  Skirting around the toys, I went to the water's edge and stared out at the horizon. Please don't let him say anything about me nearly falling, I begged whatever higher power might be listening. I felt Jake come up behind me, standing at my shoulder.

  I couldn't calm down when he was near me. I couldn't be in control or normal. I was a complete and total spaz. He must have thought I was the biggest loser he'd ever been forced to be around. I closed my eyes for a second. I loved the sounds of seagulls, the soft crash of waves as they came to shore, the salt in the air.

  But all of it paled in comparison to the boy standing next to me.

  Thankfully, he didn't say anything. We just watched as the sky turned from blue to a faint pink, purple and orange mix.

  "Why do you never lose?" I asked him as the sun kissed the water.

  "I have to be the best. My dad's always pushing me. There is no room for failure in the Kingston household."

  "Do you ever get to just have fun?" I asked as I turned around to look at him.

  He put his hands in his pockets. "Not so much."

  An idea popped into my head. "Well, in the Lowe household, we believe in work and play." I walked back to the super soakers lying on the beach. I tossed one to him. "Let's see what you're made of, Kingston."

  He caught it easily. "Are you serious?"

  I sprayed him in the face as my answer.

  He laughed and then started deliberately pumping up the barrel on his gun. "Oh, it is so on."

  I ran off, laughing and shooting at him, kicking up sand as I went. He was a much better shot than me, and I was quickly soaked. I couldn't help but let out a yelp and a giggle every time he got me. I missed him most of the time. But he was laughing along with me, chasing me. I knew he could have caught me, but he let me get away.

  Then I saw him pump his gun several times, but nothing happened. He had run out of water. I pointed my gun squarely at him. "Do you admit defeat?"

  "Never!" He grinned. He tossed his gun aside. Before I knew what was happening, he ran up and grabbed me by the waist, pulling my gun out of my hands. I lost my footing and we landed in a heap on the ground, laughing and out of breath.

  We lay in the sand, tangled up together. Our laughter faded away. Jake reached over and pushed a flyaway piece of fuchsia hair from my face. My lungs nearly collapsed as I struggled to catch my breath. This was better than anything I had ever imagined. He looked at me strangely with this expression that I'd never seen before, but it made my stomach twist and turn.

  He pulled his hand back and suddenly stood up. He accidentally showered sand all over me. "Uh, I have to go. See you tomorrow."

  And he walked away, without looking back. He didn't even go back in the house; he just went around the side and within a minute, was out of view.

  I turned over onto my back, looking up at the darkening sky. There was a small sense of relief at him being gone since I'd been this close to throwing my arms around his neck and begging to be his love slave or something equally horrific.

  But most of me just wanted him to stay right where he had been. I thought we'd had, I don't know, a moment.

  Unfortunately, it was obviously one-sided. I needed to remember who I was—an ugly stepsister, not a princess. Why would he ever be interested in me? I was far too good at mistaking his politeness for something more. We were just friends. Actually, that wasn't correct. We weren't even really friends. We were two students assigned to work on a project together.

  I knew I wasn't his type. It didn't stop me from wanting him. Or wanting him to want me.

  He had no reason to want me though. Not when he could have any girl just by snapping his fingers. Well, not me, I decided. If he wanted me, he'd have to work for it. I wouldn't be like those other skanks.

  Okay, that was a total lie. If he had tried to kiss me they'd probably have to pry me off of his lips with one of those Jaws of Life.

  But if Jake ever knew that, if he even suspected how much I liked him, he would totally own me.

  I shuddered.

  Jake could never, ever know the power he had over me. If he knew, he could destroy me.

  Chapter 10

  I changed my outfit four times. Which is lame given that we wear uniforms to school. I settled on a black, pleated skirt and the red polo shirt. Despite looking at it in the mirror multiple times, it never magically altered itself into something cute and capable of catching a boy's eye.

  Okay, Jake Kingston's eye.

  When I'd told Ella about the bet, she'd laughed (for like a really long time—it was starting to hurt my feelings) and then told me to have fun with my Jake rides. I halfheartedly invited her to join us, but to my sheer delight, she refused. She said she'd keep getting a ride with Trent.

  I didn't know when exactly Jake would show up, which left me plenty of time to freak out about him driving me to school. In his cute red car. While pacing the hallway, I found Ella in the bathroom.

  Scrubbing the toilet. (I told you she didn't care about Carlotta's job the way I do.)

  "Hey," she said without looking up at me. "We need to work on your campaign today. You're way behind." She was right. Jake already had posters up all over the school. I suspected Mercedes Bentley was probably behind them—because they were a candid picture of a shirtless Jake laughing. Underneath it said, "Jake Kingston…does a student body good." Yes, I drooled, but as a feminist, I was highly offended. Highly.

  Fine. I would admit to stealing one of the posters. In my defense, so did practically every other girl in school.

  Fortunately, we weren't able to pass out any swag—no pencils, no candy, no buttons, no cookies, no hundred dollar bills. Campaigning bribery had gotten really out of hand, so the school only allowed posters and fliers. It would hopefully even out the playing field just a little. Maybe instead of winning by an avalanche, Jake would have to settle for just a landslide.

  "I had an early meeting for the masquerade ball committee this morning and after I finished, I hung up some of those posters we worked on last night. Plus a couple others you haven't seen yet."

  Oh my Buddha. "Are they sparkly?"

  Ella stopped her scrubbing gave me a withering look. "It's your campaign, not mine. I'm not a total idiot."

  "Could yo
u, like, stop doing that for a minute? It's feeling like some sort of weird symbol. Like my campaign's about to go down that toilet."

  "Or you're full of crap." She was teasing, but it was a real possibility. I had to be full of something to think I could dethrone Malibu Prep's reigning monarch.

  "Anyway, let me know what you think when you get there." She stood up and took off her yellow rubber gloves, dropping them in her cleaning caddy (it's pink and she bedazzled it). She gave me a knowing smirk. "That is, if you're not too distracted by You-Know-Who."

  I was still not in a place where I could talk with Ella about Jake, joking or otherwise. "I haven't even officially declared my candidacy yet."

  Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. My heart went into my throat. Trent would never knock. He practically lived at our house. It had to be Jake, and it was so unexpected. I thought he would honk or something. But he was knocking at the front door. Like, an actual gentleman.

  It made me love him more.

  But I stood there, frozen. I wanted to move. I wanted to answer the door before he got sick of waiting and drove off.

  "That's Jake, isn't it?" Ella asked in a distracted tone as she brushed her hair. I couldn't respond. She stopped brushing to look at me in the mirror. "Tilly? Isn't that Jake? Don't you think you should answer the door?"

  Answer the door? She might as well have asked me to perform open-heart surgery. The result would have been the same.

  "Tilly?"

  Still, I just stood there, not able to respond. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Ella literally pushed me all the way to the front door. We stopped in the front entryway and she went around me to put her hand on the knob.

  "Wait," I whispered. "I don't think I can…"

  But she wasn't taking any of my excuses. She just smiled at me and said, "Your prince and carriage await, my lady."

  Ella threw the door open, standing behind it so Jake wouldn't see her.

  "Hey. You ready?"

  I think I nodded, because he turned around to go back to his car. I know I didn't talk, because despite having mastered the fine art of speaking at the age of two, I had apparently forgotten everything I knew. Which was entirely stupid given that I had just spent a whole afternoon with him and had talked nonstop. But it was sort of unreal, as if the whole thing had just been some kind of dream and this was the reality. Like at the end of The Breakfast Club when Anthony Michael Hall's character tells Molly Ringwald that it was okay if she ignored him at school despite their day of bonding in detention and she said she didn't ignore friends but you know that it was a total lie and that on Monday most of those people never spoke to one another again. Seeing him was like that—we'd had this bonding-type afternoon and now it was weird.