Page 2 of Class Clown

Lizzie’s eyes lit up. “Yes. I’ve never done anything like that. It’s perfect. Who’s with me?”

She looked around the table, crammed into the small faculty room, surrounded by vending machines that were never used and a kitchenette original to the school from the 1970s. My gaze tripped across my four best friends and their thoughtful expressions. In the past four years, since the last of us had found a position here, we’d all clicked into place and found the home we’d been missing. I waited to see what they’d say, hoping it was yes. Because I could use an adventure at all times.

“I’m definitely in,” Aryn said.

Surprisingly, it was Hailey who was next. “Okay, Lizzie, I’m in.”

Lizzie looked to Meredith and pleaded. “It’ll be amazing. The five of us, out in the wild, nobody calling us ‘teacher, teacher’. No routine, no long days of trudging along.”

“You plan something and I’ll come,” Meredith agreed, although I felt her reluctance.

I smiled as they looked to me, and nodded my head. If they went, there was no way I was going to miss out.

Lizzie clapped her hands together, her tight honey-blonde curls bouncing against her forehead as she nodded with excitement.

In my life, some of the best things had come from saying yes.

Chapter 1

Ruby's Truth: Sometimes a girl's gotta mope, sure. But keep it brief.

Swirls of water circled the drain in my miniscule bathtub, as I sighed heavily. Then I sighed once more for emphasis. Then, because it echoed so beautifully around my bathroom, I sighed again. Much like the lukewarm water draining away from my body, my hopes for a Summer of Love had slipped away. This kind of stuff did not happen to heroines, but only to side characters. Apparently, I was still a side character.

A month or so ago I’d been stopped in my tracks by Bohdi Gallager, the world’s most beautiful elementary school janitor, and for a flicker of a moment I’d seen a real shot at being the heroine in my own romance tale. Yet alas, the only thing left was the puff of smoke he had left behind. Even playing Michael Bublé’s soothing music hadn’t been able to make my heart pitter-pat again. If his smooth-as-melted-chocolate voice couldn’t do it, nothing could. It was over.

Sure, I was being slightly dramatic, but regardless of knowing better I’d fallen straight in to full on infatuation with Bohdi. I’d been helpless against his riots of dark curls, and his smokey eyes, and the loose-limbed way he’d moved about the school hallways. When he’d told me that my dark brown eyes were irresistible, and that I was different from other girls I’d fallen for it.

Gah! I knew better than to believe that line. I’d had enough experience with men who found meentertaininganduniqueto know that thosethings weren’t enough to build a true relationship on. Eyeballs were not the measuring post for true love.

Maybe it had happened because the last of my friends had found love, and I’d seen Bohdi as my chance to finally find my own Mr. Right. He’d appeared in that hallway, standing in my path, his charisma shooting straight into my vulnerable heart, and I’d cast away all the lessons I’d learned and thrown myself at his feet.

Lies. It had all been lies.

The worst part were that they were lies I’d told myself, which tended to hurt a little more than lies told by others.

Cold air hit my skin as the last of the water ran down the drain, and rather than immediately climbing out of my apartment-sized bathtub, I flopped my head backwards and - you guessed it - let out another gusty sigh. I was shivering and alone.

And honestly, getting a little bored of my own moping at this point. I’d gone whole hog on it, but now it was pep talk time.

Hadn’t all the best heroines hit rock bottom? Hadn’t they had to kiss a few frogs before their prince came along? So sue me if I’d thrown myself at a few duds, assuming they were princes in disguise. Suffering was good for the heart, and everyone who knew anything said a person could learn more from her mistakes than from her successes.

I counted to ten, picturing myself rising up to face the world again, before standing up and grabbing my fluffy pink towel off the countertop.

My phone began to buzz as I finished drying off. I wrapped the towel around myself and stepped onto the bathmat, immediately knocking the side of my knee on the toilet lid as I leaned toward the phone where it was resting on the counter. For one heart-pounding moment I expected it to be Bodhi calling to tell me that our connection was real. He’d felt my angst across the universe and was answering the call. He’d been wrong, we were fated to be together. Our dark moment would now resolve.

Honestly, I was pretty quick to forget my pep talk.

I scrambled to swipe the screen with still-wet fingertips and answered with a breathless, “Hello?”

“I need you to come to Arizona for the summer.”

The voice was not Bodhi’s. It was my younger brother Cole, and as usual there had been no warm-up before the request. No, hello, or other warmgreeting. And if we’re being precise, it hadn’t even been a request, but more like a directive. Because he’s the youngest.

I sat down on the closed toilet lid, my wet hair slapping against my back. “Nope.”

He’d interrupted a perfectly deep and fulfilling self-reflection session and I wasn’t interested in whatever shenanigans he’d found himself in. A girl needed to spend a minute pulling herself up from rock bottom before she could crawl back out and have hope for her ongoing search for Mr. Right. I also needed to start all over because the fact I’d excitedly hoped it was Bodhi was a bit of a problem.

“Rubes, I’m serious.”

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