A Good Boy Is Hard to Find (The Naughty List #3)(20)
Author: Suzanne Young

“Wish me luck,” I whispered, starting toward the house.

“Break a leg!” I paused and looked back at her. She shrugged an apology. I smiled at the irony of it and crutched across the lawn, tight to the porches of the house. The dusk was quickly turning into night, and I wanted to hurry so that I wouldn’t need infrared.

I slipped around back, careful to duck down (or as much as I could on crutches) as I passed the garage windows. I wasn’t sure if Garrett and Stacy were in there yet, but I didn’t hear them playing any music so I assumed they weren’t. Toward the back of the house was a dusty, small paned window that peeked inside the garage. Perfect.

I took off my pack and balanced my crutches against the back siding as I steadied my video camera and began filming. I wanted to set the scene for the recording. I wiped away a small section of dirt from the window with my sleeve, but when I put my lens up to it, I gasped.

They were in there! Quickly, I spun out of the way, nailing my back to the wall, but in the process, I knocked over my crutches. I gritted my teeth as they hit the concrete with a loud thwack.

Salamander salad! I was in trouble. I heard rustling behind the window, like maybe someone was trying to open it. That was a bit odd. Because from what I saw in the split second I was looking, neither Garrett nor Stacy was exactly “dressed” to open a window. In fact, it might be a little drafty.

“Leave it,” I heard as a small murmur. The old glass obviously wasn’t double paned. I couldn’t hear much, but I could hear just enough.

“I thought I heard something,” Garrett said.

“Probably a squirrel or something. Let’s hurry, the band will be here soon.”

My lip curled. Seriously, Stacy? So gross. Hooking up in a garage had major ick factor. Plus, Garrett was a pretty popular guy around school, and although Stacy was his “best” friend—he was known to hang out with a few other girls. I’d seen him doing homework with Shawna Smith after school. I’d heard Leeandra Rochkhill mention how they went to a concert together so that she could interview him for the school paper. I’d even watched Marsha Harting buy him lunch to “pay him back” for fixing her car. Were they all covers? Now I wondered how many “practices” he had a week.

After a few beats, the noise moved to the other side of the room, and I felt my stomach turn with the nausea of it. This was the part. From the beginning of SOS, this was the part that I hated. Catching the cheaters. It was enough to make you doubt humanity.

I reset my camera and then carefully (on one foot) turned back to the window and pressed the lens to the glass. Oh, puke. They were … really going for it.

Letting the video record, I couldn’t bear to watch anymore so I looked out over his backyard, holding the camera steady. There was a small play set, one that was worn and rusty. I wondered if maybe it was from when he was a little kid. And then I wondered what his mother would think if she found him now.

In my pocket, my cell buzzed. Must be Izzie. Keeping my recording hand up, and my broken ankle off the ground, I slipped out the phone. Whoa. It was Joel.

I didn’t want him to go to voice mail, but I wouldn’t be able to get away in time to answer it. Judgment call.

“Hello?” I whispered, putting the phone to my ear.

“Tessa? Is that you?”

“Uh-huh.”

He paused. I glanced around and then checked in the garage. They were still occupied. Wait. Was he giving her the Heimlich? Oh. Never mind.

“Why are you whispering?” Joel asked, whispering himself.

“Um …” I turned away and scanned my usual list of excuses, and nothing came through. “I’m at a movie?”

Joel didn’t speak at first. Then, “Movie? So you ditched me tonight to go out to a movie with someone else.”

Oops. I’d forgotten about the ditching him part. See, this was why I’d always told the girls not to answer their phones when on a mission! “I’m with Izzie. She’s … having problems.” I rolled my eyes. I was being a very bad friend right now. Izzie’s problems were not a ready-made excuse for me to use. Why did I answer the phone?

There was a noise from the garage that told me they were close to finishing, so I pulled down my camera and backed up against the wall again. Balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder, I bent down and picked up my spy pack and crutches.

“Should I even bother asking you out again?” Joel asked, his voice sounding a little sad. It sounded like he’d given up.

I straightened up, a pout on my lips. “Yes. I want to go out with you, Joel.”

“See!” I heard from inside the garage. “Did you hear that? Someone’s out there!”

My eyes widened and quickly shut off the phone and shoved into my pocket. Guess my whispering wasn’t quiet enough.

Eee!!!!! I tried to crutch as fast as I could, but I knew there was no way I could get out of here in time. There was a series of little popping sounds as each rubber end of the crutch hit the patio pavement.

“Hey!”

I froze, nearly tipping on my crutches. I was so burned!

“Hey,” Garrett called back, then laughed. “You’re early.”

Early? I turned cautiously and looked over my shoulder. No one was there. I waited a second and soon other voices filed out. The rest of the band must have arrived.

I blew out a relieved breath and made my way around the house, careful to duck down again. If anything, Garrett and Stacy should be thankful I was spying. If I hadn’t made noise, they might have been caught in a compromising position by their bandmates. That would have been an awkward set.

I’d just gotten back to the front yard when my phone started buzzing again. I winced. Joel!

“Sorry,” I whispered, the minute I put my phone to my ear. It made crutching difficult, so I tried to balance the phone on my shoulder as I hurried to Izzie’s car.

“You … hung up on me.”

“I’m so sorry. I lost my signal.”

“Right. What movie are you at again?” He sounded suspicious.

“The romantic comedy with that Jennifer Anniston.”

“Uh-huh. Which theater?”

“Regal at Redmond Town Center.”

“Popcorn?”

“Course.” He was good.

“Tessa,” Joel exhaled. “Are you spying?”

I was just outside Izzie’s car, and I opened the back door quickly, tossing in my crutches before shutting it softly. “No!” Pickled pears! I hated lying. “I told you I’m helping Izzie through a tough time.” I closed my eyes. This was so not a great way to start a relationship, but what choice did I have?