Spencer and the Younger Girl (Gulf City High Book 3) Read online

  “Cigars.”

  “Really?”

  Charlotte shook her head with a laugh. “No. Not really. It’s National Geographic. They did this entire spread on Native Americans. Apparently, they found a new cache of artifacts.”

  “Really?” Cassie put her Kindle on the desk and lowered herself to the floor beside Charlotte. “Mind if I read it too?”

  “My friends are geeks.” Hadley sighed.

  “Hey!” Charlotte tried to suppress a grin. “I resemble that.”

  Cassie laughed like that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

  “All right, I’m out.” Hadley pushed through her door and walked down the hall where she entered Roman’s room without knocking. “Save me from my boredom. Please.”

  Roman Sullivan was the first platonic boy friendship Hadley had ever had. After his parents moved overseas, he lived with Cassie and Jesse until he fell madly and over-the-top in love with Cassie. Now, he lived in her house so Cassie’s dad would allow them to date.

  It was both adorable and obnoxious how into each other they were.

  Roman paused the video game on his TV and looked up. “Dude, you almost messed me up.”

  “Wouldn’t want that.” She flicked his head before sitting beside him and picking up the extra controller. “Let me play. Please. I can’t take anymore smart-people talk.”

  Roman laughed. He understood. It was why he was in his room when all the girls were in hers.

  “Sure. Just remember, I’m on your team this time. You aren’t supposed to attack me.”

  She grinned. “No promises.”

  The truth was, Roman was pretty awful at video games even though he spent a lot of time playing them. She always beat him.

  They roamed the wasteland of the dystopian game while Hadley tried to come up with a solution to the problem most people didn’t believe existed. “Our school is lame.”

  A laugh burst free of Roman. “And? We’ve known this for four years.”

  “Yeah, but in previous years, the seniors pulled some epic pranks. Remember the pig thing last year? Or the Saran Wrap on all the toilet seats the year before?”

  “Those were epic.” Roman laughed.

  Hadley went silent, trying to work through the problem in her mind. A senior needed to pull off something epic this year too, but no one had yet.

  “Silence from you is dangerous. Spill.” Roman paused the game and set his controller aside.

  Hadley sighed. “Well… what if we…”

  “No.” He crossed his arms. “Do you remember what Vice Principal Madison said at the beginning of the year? Pranks will result in suspension. And she’s the nice one. I can’t afford that when I already just barely got into college.”

  “Since when does Roman Sullivan worry about causing trouble?”

  He thought for a moment before the corners of his mouth turned up. “We won’t get caught, right?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

  “It has to be epic, though. Like better than anything before it.”

  She tapped her chin. Epic. Epic. Epic. “Let’s just play. We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. Once we pull off a prank, no one will forget us.”

  They shared a grin only two troublemakers could understand.

  Before long, Charlotte and Cassie wandered down and sat to watch them play. But Hadley didn’t tell them what she and Roman had agreed on. They wouldn’t get her need to do this, the desire for a little wild to go with her senior year.

  Because Hadley Gibson needed the freedom it brought her.

  She needed to make her own rules.

  “What smells so good?” Hadley walked into the kitchen to find her grandfather pulling a pan out of the oven.

  He set it on the counter and turned to her with a withering look. “Hadley, my dearest granddaughter…”

  She suppressed a laugh. “Yes, dearest Grandfather?”

  He picked up a spoon from the counter and pointed it at her. “If you touch these baked apples before we’ve eaten dinner, I’m going to have serious words with you.”

  “Ooo, serious words. I’m terrified.” She shot him a closed-mouthed smile before sliding open the drawer at the desk in the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?” Shifting through menus, she picked two. “Chinese or Thai?”

  “And just what makes you think I’m not cooking you a nutritious dinner, young lady?”

  Her smile widened.

  “Fine.” He sighed. “Chinese.”

  He was a sucker for a good egg roll, and she knew he’d choose the Chinese place down the street every time if she gave him the chance.

  Roman entered the kitchen, showing no discomfort even though he’d only moved in the week before. “What’s up?”

  Hadley held out the menu. “What are you in the mood for?”

  He took it, but didn’t open it. “We just had Italian takeout last night and Sushi the night before…”

  “Rome, there’s one thing you need to learn about the Gibson clan.” She pulled herself up onto a stool at the counter. “We don’t cook.”

  “He cooks.” Roman pointed the menu at her grandfather.

  “No, he bakes. Massive difference, dude.” She could see the wheels turning in his mind, probably wondering how none of them were five-star chefs with the large and well-equipped kitchen they currently stood in.

  Some things were just unexplainable.

  “Hey, kids.” Hadley’s mom breezed in, bringing the salt air with her. Living only a block from the beach had its perks—like sunbathing all day when she should have been at work. But Kerry Gibson was a lawyer who didn’t lawyer. If that even made sense.

  She took on some high-profile divorce cases, but little else. When her dad made the family millions in the defense industry before growing a conscious and cashing out, she could afford to take it easy.

  Hadley never wanted to be her. She loved her mom, but she also wanted to make some kind of difference in this world. Preferably a high-paying difference.

  “I’ll order the food.” Jack left the three of them in the kitchen alone with his apples.

  Hadley hopped off the stool. “He’s way too trusting.” Taking a fork from the drawer, she stabbed into a piece of apple and brought it to her mouth so she could be rid of the evidence before her grandfather returned. Heat seared her tongue, and she spit it into the sink.

  When she looked up, Roman shook with laughter. “Hot,” she croaked as she scooped water into her mouth.

  “Serves you right.” Her grandfather returned, his eyes narrowing.

  She shrugged.

  “Fifteen minutes until the food is ready.” He looked to his daughter. “I’ve already taken my meds tonight and can’t drive.”

  “I’ll go get it.” Hadley’s mom snatched the keys to his convertible and flashed a smile before disappearing.

  “All right fine,” her grandfather burst out. “Twist my arm, we can eat the apples before dinner.”

  Hadley’s brow arched. “You’re a hard nut to crack, Papa.” In truth, he was the softest, not because he was weak, but because he couldn’t resist her.

  And she couldn’t resist trying to make him proud. Growing up without a dad should have been hard. It should have given her some major daddy issues or something. But she’d had her grandfather. He was always there. Every soccer game when she was a kid. Every recital even though she was a terrible dancer.

  He’d filled the hole in her life and had become her favorite person.

  They were more alike than different. Which was how she knew he was the person who’d help her.

  “Papa?” She slid onto the stool again.

  “Sup?” He pushed a bowl of baked apples in front of her. “That’s what the cool kids say, right?”

  “No one says sup.”

  “Fine. What can I do for you this glorious evening, ma’am?”

  Roman laughed with a mouthful of apple.

  “I want to pull a senior prank.”

  Ro
man started coughing. When he stopped, he turned narrowed eyes on her and dropped his voice. “You’re not supposed to tell anyone.”

  “It’s just Paps. He’ll know what we should do.”

  Her grandfather drummed his fingers on the counter. “A senior prank? One a scale of one to bad, how much trouble can you get in?”

  “Depends what we do.” She shrugged. “But… our principal is pretty cool. I doubt he’ll punish us unless we like put his car on the roof or something.” Lies. He’d hate any sort of prank, but she couldn’t tell her grandfather she’d risk suspension for a few moments of adrenaline.

  “Animals.”

  “Animals?” She looked to Roman. “Do you know what he means?”

  Her grandfather grinned. “They’re always a win. My senior year, we put chickens in the principal’s office.”

  “They had senior pranks back in the stone ages?” She gasped. “And chickens?”

  “We can’t bring animals into the school.” Roman leaned against the counter. “And chickens in the principal’s office is a bit lame.” He paused. “No offense.”

  “None taken. But you’re wrong. We were gods at school the next week.”

  That’s what Hadley wanted. Not the popularity, but she wanted to be remembered, to make her mark on a school she’d never been truly involved in. There’d be no pictures of teams she joined lining the halls, no trophies with her name on them in the giant case near the science wing.

  She’d even missed getting her senior picture in on time for the yearbook.

  It was like everything Hadley Gibson would be wiped clean from Gulf City High the moment she walked out those doors for the last time.

  “Why not animals?” She needed something big, something they’d think about years from now.

  “Hadley.” Roman shook his head. “We can’t.”

  “It has to be overnight.” She stood, an idea coming to her. “I want them to still be in the halls when students arrive.”

  “What animals? And where would we even get them?”

  “Roman.” She turned to him. “All I’m hearing from you is ‘can’t.’ Do I need to ask that girlfriend of yours to help me instead?”

  He laughed. “You can try.”

  He was right. From the stories Roman told, Cassie used to be quite the troublemaker, but not so much anymore. She needed Roman to get on board.

  “Goats, chickens, cows. Can you imagine people getting to school and finding a goat in their classroom?”

  A smile spread across Roman’s face. “That would be pretty epic.”

  “I like where this is going.” Her grandfather grinned. “It’s harmless and funny, but dear, we don’t have any goats.”

  “Damien,” Roman said suddenly.

  “What?” Hadley met his gaze.

  “From the hockey team. Damien Lee.”

  “Of course!” Her eyes lit up. “The Lee ranch just outside town. They must have animals we can rent or something. Hey! Wasn’t Damien the one who sabotaged the Zamboni for Charlotte a couple months ago? Think he’d help us?”

  “Kids, hold up.” Her grandfather looked at each of them. “I know the Lee’s. There’s no way they’d allow this to happen.”

  “For them to stop us, they’d have to know about it.” She gave her grandfather a pointed look. “We just need Damo.”

  “Tomorrow is Sunday,” Roman said. “We can go out to the ranch then.”

  Hadley nodded. This was the beginning of something—hopefully something great. They had a plan. All they needed was for Damien Lee to say yes.

  3

  Spencer

  “Hey look!” Damien called across the paddock. “The boots still fit those fancy feet of yours.”

  Spencer looked up from where he’d hunched over the engine of the lawn mower. Once upon a time, he’d been his parents go-to fix-it man. Now, he had to sneak out here to take a look at broken machinery while they claimed they didn’t want his help.

  “I was born and raised on this ranch.” He took in his brother’s dirt streaked jeans and dirty white t-shirt. “You lose your battle with a washing machine?”

  Damien grinned. “Nah, just up early wrestling one of the neighbor’s bulls loose from the wire fence we put up at the edge of the property.”

  “What happened to the wooden fence?” The one he’d spent weeks constructing with his dad one summer when he was sixteen.

  “Stampede busted through it a few months ago. We’ll get it fixed eventually.”

  When he was a kid, his parents ran the ranch with a tight fist, never letting any part of it go into disrepair. In the two days he’d been back, he’d noticed the bunkhouse where the hands lived was now mostly empty and there were signs of neglect in certain structures.

  Not with the animals. The Lee’s would never let them suffer for any struggles the family went through. Had things really gotten that tight since Spencer left three years ago?

  Damien stepped up to the engine. “I was supposed to fix this last week, but there’s just been so much to do.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Come on, I’ve noticed you out here for a few hours now. Take a break.”

  Wanting to do as much as he could to help while he was here, Spencer hesitated. Then he remembered Damien was the real reason he’d come, not the ranch. He pulled the gloves from his hands and stuck them in the back pocket of his jeans before following Damien toward the barn.

  They passed the bunk house where Spencer had taken to sleeping in one of the empty rooms. He hadn’t been invited into the main house, and he didn’t ask.

  “They missed you, you know.” Damien looked sideways at him. “I promise they haven’t spent this entire time angry.”

  “I’m not sure it matters.”

  “Of course it does, bro. They’ll get over their hurt.”

  Spencer ran a hand through his sweaty hair. It wasn’t hot, but the Florida sun could be intense. “I don’t know why I didn’t call. Dad was so angry when I left, and Ma cried. Every time I picked up the phone to call them, I saw their faces. Every time I tried to email, their voices berated me.”

  “But you kept in contact with me. Why?”

  “Why didn’t you tell them you were talking to me?” He grew quiet for a moment. “We both had our reasons, Damien.”

  They entered the barn, and their dad turned from where he’d been talking to one of the college kids who worked on the ranch. His jaw tightened.

  “We’re taking Chet and Harbinger out.” Damien didn’t seem to notice the rise in tension. “That cool, Dad?”

  “Did you finish your morning chores?” he asked.

  Damien nodded. “And then some. Spence was working too hard, so I convinced him to take a break with me. We’ll be back for lunch.”

  Spencer ignored the stares from his father and walked the familiar path through the large barn he’d once spent a lot of his time in.

  “Hey, buddy.” He hadn’t been able to bring himself to visit Harbinger since returning. He missed the horse almost as much as he’d missed his brother. Harbinger was part of his family, had been since he was just a colt running around with the ten-year-old Spencer. As a teenager, Spencer got up early every morning to take his horse for a ride before school.

  He’d slept in his stall when the beast was sick.

  The two of them had been a pair.

  Harbinger snorted, his amber eyes boring into Spencer, seeing his every secret. “I’m sorry, okay?” He pushed the latch up and slid open the stall door. The moment his fingers connected with the soft dark hair of Harbinger’s mane, Spencer released a breath, his entire body relaxing as if he’d only just now come home.

  “Harbi.” He stepped closer, running his other hand over the horse’s strong back.

  Harbinger kicked his front hoof.

  “I know. I suck.”

  Damien appeared at the stall door, leading Chet. “You going to talk to that horse or ride him?”

  Muscle memory was a wonderful thing.
Spencer’s hands knew how to ready Harbinger with little input from his mind. It came back to him so naturally, as if he’d never left at all.

  Harbinger only protested slightly when Spencer pulled on his lead. After a few tugs, he walked forward.

  Outside the barn, both Spencer and Damien mounted the horses just as they’d done their entire lives. Three years. No riding. No balancing in a saddle.

  Yet, as he nudged Harbinger forward, it was like he’d never left at all. With almost no prompting, Harbinger took off running, and Spencer didn’t hold him back as they soared across the fields and through the gate.

  Damien and Chet ran at their side.

  A grin stretched across Spencer’s face as the wind whipped his hair back. He leaned forward, his legs squeezing.

  His body knew how to move, but it wasn’t prepared for Harbinger to slow and rear back, throwing him from the saddle. He hit the grass with a thud, sending pain searing through his back.

  Damien slid down from Chet and ran over. “You okay?”

  Spencer rolled onto his side and pushed himself up. “Blasted horse.”

  “I should have warned you. No one rides Harbinger anymore.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “He’s gone a little wild since you left. He throws every rider who tries.” He shrugged. “I thought you’d be the exception.”

  He scanned the field to see where Harbinger ran off to, spotting him in the distance. “We should go get him.”

  “Nah, this isn’t the first time he’s run off in the last few years. He can’t get off the property because he hates to jump. He always ends up back at the barn looking for food.”

  The horse Spencer knew never would have thrown him. He wouldn’t have run off. But nothing was the same as he’d left it. “I’m not riding behind you on Chet.”

  Damien laughed. “Walking it is then.”

  Leading Chet beside them, they took off back toward the barn. The Lee properties were an extensive patchwork of cattle fields and even a small orange grove. Spencer used to be able to ride Harbinger out to the far edges of their land whenever he needed space from his family or their employees who were always around. Whenever he needed to dream of something other than a life of running the ranch.