Heart Shaped Rock (7 page)

This statement absolutely floors me. First of all, it’s patently ridiculous, considering he’s saying it to The Incredible Invisible Girl. Second of all, he saw me for—what?—two seconds a couple days ago? And I wasn’t even tap dancing or hula hooping or spinning plates on my every limb. I’m not exactly sure what I could have done in those two seconds to make an impression of any kind on him.

Tiffany clears her throat and shifts her weight, but Shark-Tooth Boy doesn’t look over at her. His eyes remain fixed on me. Those Tootsie Rolls are so intense, in fact, so full of heat, I glance away.

“Hey, Jared,” Tiffany finally says.

Jared peels his eyes off me long enough to look over at Tiffany. He considers her with no recognition. “Oh, hey... ”

“... Tiffany,” she prompts, clearly annoyed.

“Tiffany,” he repeats, still clueless. After a moment, his eyes flash with sudden recollection. “Oh yeah. Kellan’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah, but I also work at Sheila’s,” she says coldly.

“No kidding? I’m there all the time. When did you start working there?”

“Five months ago.” Oh, she’s pissed. Tiffany’s not used to being overlooked.

“That’s rad,” he says, and then he looks right back at me. “Hey, so I’m Jared.”

“Hello, Jared,” I say.

There’s an awkward silence. I’m not really sure what he expects me to say.

“And your name is... ?” he asks. “That’s what you’re supposed to say after I tell you my name.”

“Oh, excellent tip. I’m gonna write that one down.” My smile takes the edge off my sarcasm. “Shaynee.”

“Well,
Shaynee,
” he says slowly, “Can I get you a drink or something? Or do you wanna go hang out over by the bonfire?”

“Thanks,” I say, “but we’re waiting for Kellan. He disappeared somewhere in there.” I motion to the heart of the crowded patio. I haven’t done this much talking in one single day in months. My vocal chords feel overworked.

“Kellan’s here? I wanna talk to him. A bunch of us are going surfing in Rosarito tomorrow.”

“No way,” Tiffany huffs. “Kellan promised to go shopping with me tomorrow. Don’t you dare make him ditch me to surf in Mexico again. Come on, let’s find him. I wanna be there when you talk to him.” She pulls on Jared’s arm. “You okay here for a minute, Shay?”

I nod. “I’ll probably sit down on the beach for a second. If you don’t see me right here, I’ll be sitting over there.” I motion toward the bonfire.

“I’ll come sit with you later, okay?” Jared says. “
Shaynee.”
He draws out my name with exaggerated flourish, like he’s learning the name of an exotic bird. He smiles.

I bite my lower lip. I have to admit, he’s kind of cute.

After Jared and Tiffany have disappeared into the crowded patio, I move toward the bonfire. People are laughing and talking over there, but it’s definitely a much mellower scene than on the patio. I plop myself down on the sand a ways from the house—not too close to the heat of the bonfire, but still close enough so I look like I’m part of the party and not a stalker-weirdo.

I can hear the snap-crackle of the flames, the far-away crashing of the waves, and music blaring from the patio. It’s a huge relief to get away from all the commotion by the house. What’s up with tonight? I’ve had more conversations with strangers in one night than I’ve had in the past six months combined. I’m in sensory overload, to tell you the truth. I’d felt so up and ready to party like a rock star when Tiffany first picked me up, but now I’m feeling like my usual wallflower self. Tonight’s been an interesting detour through humankind and all, but I’m ready to go back to being invisible. I take off my flip-flops and bury my toes in the sand.

After only a few minutes of blissful solitude, I hear Tiffany’s voice ring out. “Oh my God, Shay-Shay.” She’s bum-rushing me with Kellan following closely behind. She drops down in the sand right next to me and shoves her face right into mine. “Jared just went all Jacob-the-Werewolf-Imprinting-on-Baby-Renesmee on your ass.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Kellan laughs.

“If you would read something besides your
Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition,
you’d know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Earmuffs, Shay,” Kellan instructs me with mock urgency.

I roll my eyes. I’m six months younger than Tiffany and a full year younger than Kellan, and he’s always acting like I’m too young and innocent to hear his “adult” conversations. Ever since he watched the movie
Old School,
Kellan’s begun shouting “earmuffs” at me when he wants me to cover my ears and preserve my childlike innocence. I don’t cover my ears, of course, but instead stick my tongue out at him. Sophisticated, I know.

“Hey, the swimsuit edition has
excellent
articles,” Kellan says, smirking.

Tiffany laughs. “But, seriously, Shay. Jared is, like, gonzo smitten over you. Kellan wanted to go on and on about their Mexican-surfing bromance, and all Jared wanted to talk about was
you
.”

“Me?”

“I know, right?” Kellan says. “What the hell?”

“What did he say about me?” I ask. And, to my surprise, I realize I really want to know.

“He wanted to know if you have a boyfriend, where you live, if you live down here by the beach, if we go to school together. He wanted to know which days you work at Sheila’s,” Tiffany explains, ticking each item off on her fingers. “And a billion other questions I can’t even remember. Gonzo smitten, like I said.”

“You didn’t tell him... about... my whole sob story, did you?” I ask in a low voice. “You know... about... my mom?”

“Oh gosh, no,” Tiffany gasps, as if it’s an outlandish question. “I’ve learned my lesson on that one. You’re just a normal girl.” She shoots me an exaggerated wink, like we’re actors in some old black-and-white movie.

I’m relieved. And anxious at the same time. Why do I care what Jared knows or thinks about me?

“He’s a total jerk,” Tiffany says matter-of-factly.

“He is?” I ask, surprised. He didn’t seem particularly jerky to me.

“No, he’s not,” Kellan retorts. “Jared’s a totally cool dude. Why would you say that, Tiff?”

Tiffany pouts. “I’ve seen the guy, like, fifteen times down at Sheila’s and he doesn’t even remember me, and he lays eyes on Shaynee all of once and he’s ready to tattoo her face onto his chest.”

“Whatever,” Kellan says. He motions toward the water. “Hey, you girls wanna take a walk?”

I know he’s really only inviting Tiffany to walk along the ocean. I wouldn’t dream of joining them. “Nah,” I say. “I’m kind of tired. I think I’ll just sit here for a little bit. Is that okay? I’m a little... over-stimulated, I think.”

“Are you all right?” Tiffany asks.

I nod.

“Come on, babe.” Kellan grabs Tiff’s hand. “Let’s go suck face.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Tiffany asks me, resisting Kellan’s pull on her. She looks into my eyes, trying to read my sincerity.

“I am one hundred percent positive,” I reply. And I am. I’d actually prefer to be alone for a moment. I’ve had far too much social interaction for one night. “Please, go suck Kellan’s dopey face. The boy looks desperate.”

Kellan adopts an expression of extreme desperation, and Tiffany laughs.

“I can’t stand to look at him anymore,” I say. “Please, go.”

“Okay,” Tiffany relents. “But why don’t you move a little closer to the fire, so you’re not sitting here all alone? You look like a creeper or something.”

I laugh. “Roger that.”

Kellan and Tiffany grab each other’s hands and walk across the sand toward the water. I follow Tiff’s advice and move quite a bit closer to the bonfire, where I can feel the heat wafting over me. It feels calming.

A log in the bonfire falls, and the entire fire crackles and pops and sizzles. A wave of thick smoke envelops me for just a moment with the shifting of the breeze. I begin to cough and wave the air with my hands to clear a clean patch to breathe.

“Looks like you’ve picked a dangerous spot,” a voice says. I turn, expecting Jared. But it’s not Jared. It’s some guy I don’t know.

Wow, yet another Casanova. Do I have “PLEASE TALK TO ME” stamped on my forehead? What’s going on tonight?

I don’t reply to his pick-up line. I mean it’s pretty lame.

“Is this seat taken?” he asks, motioning to the sand next to me.

I shrug.

His voice seems really familiar to me. But I can’t place it.

He looks to the fire for a moment, and the flames dance across his face. Wow, he has the most alluring collection of features I’ve ever seen. Well, in person, anyway. I’ve seen movie stars and rock stars rival this guy, but I’ve never seen such perfection up close. He truly is a work of art. His hair is dark. His cheekbones are high. His nose is sculpted. His lips are... wow.

“I’m Dean,” he says, extending his hand.

I put my hand in his and immediately feel a current of electricity jolt through my body. I jerk my hand away.

“I’m Shaynee,” I say, sounding more confident than I feel. “I recently learned I’m supposed to say my name when someone says theirs. So, there, I did it. I said my name. It’s Shaynee.” Oh God, I’m rambling.

He laughs a masculine, guttural laugh.

I freeze. I know that laugh.
Oh my God.
I look down at his clothes. Jeans. Combat boots. He’s not wearing the leather jacket, but...

Another plume of smoke from the bonfire hits and envelops us. Again, I cough ferociously. But he isn’t coughing at all.

When the smoke clears, he lets out his breath. “You’re a bonfire rookie, Shaynee.”

When he says my name, my stomach flips over and that electricity from our handshake bounces throughout my body.

He turns to look at me, flashing a wicked grin, and I finally see those startling blue eyes in the flickering light confirming what I already know.
Motorcycle Boy.

“When you see smoke coming,” he says, “you gotta hold your breath ‘til it passes.”

“Or, hey,” I say, “here’s an idea—we could just move back a bit.”

“What, and sacrifice warmth?” He grins.

“It is a bit of a
Sophie’s Choice
, isn’t it?”

Dean laughs like he actually understands my movie reference.

Gah, is it super-duper hot out here tonight? Am I sitting way too close to the fire? Is my hair burning? “Actually, holding my breath is my superpower,” I blurt. “I can hold my breath all day long.” God, I sound like such a dork.

“Well, that’s a handy superpower. You could totally team up with Aquaman and fight underwater crime and stuff.” He shoots me a crooked smile. “And make some really beautiful tadpoles.”

I can’t take it anymore. I have to call a spade a spade. “You’re the guy on the motorcycle.” It’s a statement, not a question. “Motorcycle Boy.”

“Yes, I am. And you’re the girl with the walkie-talkie. Walkie-Talkie Girl.” He laughs.

That laugh.
It holds nothing back. It’s warm and intoxicating and infectious. And irritating and annoying and cocky. He pisses me off.

“You sure got mad at me earlier. What’d I do to make you so mad?”

“I’m pretty sure it started when you breathed.”

He laughs again, this time throwing his head back.

I guess I’m just a laugh riot. What is so damned funny?

He regains his composure and smiles at me, light from the fire dancing across his perfectly arranged face. Wow, that really is quite a face.

“So, Shaynee, what’s the deal with the walkie-talkie?” he asks.

To admit the extent of my dorkdom would be way too embarrassing. “Well,
Dean,
what’s the deal with the motorcycle
?
Are you trying to be James Dean, riding around in your leather jacket, making all the girls swoon? Is Dean even your real name?”

Why the heck am I being so rude? I’m being an absolute bitch. Why?

“Yeah, you got me,” he says, throwing up his hands. Surprisingly, his tone is easy and playful, without a hint of annoyance. “That’s exactly right. I have no imagination whatsoever, and imitating James Dean’s as big as I can dream. In fact, I’ll let you in on my deep, dark secret.” He leans in close to me. “My real name is actually Frodo.”

I’m taken off guard. I look down, trying to hide my smile. So, he’s not a total dumbass. Interesting. And he smells really good, too.

“Okay, Shaynee-girl,” he says, and my head snaps up. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“Oh yeah, Frodo, what’s that?”

His face is etched in marble. I can’t find an imperfection on it. I look down. I can’t even imagine what he thinks of me right now. I’m acting like a spazzoid. And an even bigger jerk.

“Since you’re such a badass breath-holder and all, I issue you a challenge. But be warned, it’s not for the faint of heart.”

“Well, I’m in luck, then. I don’t have a heart, so I’m good.”

“No heart, huh? That’s too bad. I’d never guess it, looking at you.”

“There’s a lot you’d never guess, looking at me.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence between us as he considers me. His smirk is gone. His eyes have lost their cocky sparkle. He’s looking at me with such earnest assessment, such undivided attention, such
acceptance
, I have to look away to catch my breath. If I were standing up, I’d have to sit down. He’s beautiful.

He parts his lips as if to speak, but instead, licks his lower lip. Oh my God, his lips are exquisite.
Get a hold of yourself, Shaynee.
Seriously. This is ridiculous.

He still isn’t speaking. He’s looking at my face, every square inch of my face. He’s not even trying to disguise his scrutiny of my features. Like right now. He’s unabashedly staring at my eyes, my nose... Oh my God, he’s noticing my freckles
right now.
And my mouth. My lips. He licks his lips again. A heat spreads throughout my body.

I exhale. “What’s your challenge, Frodo?” I ask, breaking the spell. I chew on my lip in anticipation of his reply.

He shakes his head, just slightly, as if being roused from a daydream.

“What’s it gonna be?” I demand.

“Well, I’ll tell you, if you’ll let me.”

I nod. Yes. I will let you.
I will let you.