Page 66 of Breaking Rules
Fear washed over Ferris’s face.
“Let’s take a walk, Montana,” Principal Flynn said.
Her sun-kissed cheeks paled. “Can Train come with us?”
Principal Flynn’s loafers clicked along the floor. “If you don’t mind him listening to our conversation.”
“Go,” I said to Montana. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”
She joined the principal.
I blocked Ferris. “Why do you look like you’re guilty of something?”
He pursed his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I swear, dude. If I catch you trying anything with Montana, I’ll shave that spike right off your head.” I almost threw him up against the wall, but Montana’s voice was fading, and I was curious to hear the conversation with Principal Flynn. I sneered at Ferris before I took off.
Principal Flynn was ushering Montana into the empty chemistry lab. I didn’t have chemistry this year. But the rumor was that the lab accident hadn’t done too much damage. Mainly, a small fire had ruined a lab bench, although I didn’t see any signs of damage.
“Montana, I understand from your school records that you have a talent for artwork, where you defaced a gym at your last school. Is that true?”
Montana clung to her book bag as though it was her lifeline. “Yes, sir.”
“And have you done anything like that at this school?” Principal Flynn asked.
Her eyes never wavered from his. “No, sir.”
He studied her with his hands in his pants pockets. “You realize that graffiti can warrant legal action?”
“Has someone accused me of doing something like that?” Montana asked.
“Not at all. But it came to my attention that you had been in the locker room earlier the day of the first football game. So I pulled your records.”
“I was down in the area talking with Coach Holmes,” she said.
“Did you see anyone other than the football team?” Principal Flynn asked.
“No,” she said.
“Very well,” he said. “You both can go.”
She rushed out as though she couldn’t breathe.
“Mr. Everly, good luck at the game tomorrow night,” Flynn said.
I nodded as I hurried to catch up with Montana. We didn’t speak until we were standing next to my Hummer.
“Oh my God,” she blurted out. “I knew he would check my records.”
I guided her chin up. “You didn’t do it. So let it go.” I nibbled on her bottom lip. “We got other things to discuss before we get to my house. My mom’s going to ask if we’re going to the debutante ball together. Do you want to be my date?” I had refused to attend, but that was before Montana.
Her mouth opened slightly before her delicious lips curled upward. “Why, sir,” she said in a sweet Southern accent. “I do believe I would love to.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder then held out her hand like a lady would do when waiting for a gentleman to kiss the back of it.
I placed my palm under hers, bent over slightly, and kissed her hand. “Thank you, madam. It will be my honor to escort such a lovely woman to the ball.” Then I pulled her to me and crushed my mouth to hers.
For the moment, nothing else mattered but kissing her.
