Michelle Madow - Diamonds in the Rough

Once the pizza arrived, it was set up on tables, and everyone dug in. Courtney rarely took advantage of her Blamex—the Black American Express credit card that Adrian had given her and her sisters—but she hadn’t hesitated to use it to buy the pizza lunch for Habitat volunteers. She’d also ordered extra pizza for the family who would eventually move into the house, so they could take it home for tomorrow. She understood what it was like not knowing if there would be enough food for every meal, or to have to stretch a loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter for as long as possible. Not a day passed when she didn’t feel guilty for having so much now when most people had so little, and she was determined to give back.

Somehow, she’d ended up in front of Brett in the pizza line. He’d followed through with his promise to join Habitat with her—and despite Courtney’s insistence that they not get too close, he always worked around it, like by sitting next to her in the meetings, or getting behind her in line right now. And despite her attempts to neutralize her feelings for him, her heart still raced every time he was near.

“Sit with me for lunch?” he asked after they grabbed their slices.

He looked so perfect with the sun reflecting off his green eyes, his hair messed up from working in the heat all day, and Courtney couldn’t say no. She wanted to slap herself after agreeing. What was she doing? She should be joining a group to try making new friends, not going off with Brett. But her legs didn’t want to listen to her brain, and she followed him to a shaded, secluded spot under a tree.

“Looks like you got more paint on you than on the house,” Brett said as they set their plates down on the grass.

“Savannah’s going to flip when she sees my jeans.” Courtney took a long drink of water. The desert air was drying out her throat, and she finished half the water bottle in seconds. “But anyway, how’s the roof work going?” She phrased it casually, as if she hadn’t been subtly watching him work up there all morning.

“I sucked at first.” He laughed. “But after a while I got the hang of it. I’m not the best, but I’m not as bad as Oliver. Poor guy almost fell off.”

“I was surprised to see him here this morning,” Courtney said. “He’s never come to any of the meetings, and he didn’t strike me as the type of person who voluntarily wakes up before noon.”

Brett chewed a bite of pizza. “I have no idea why he’s here, but he’s hungover as hell. One of the other guys mentioned that Oliver was partying pretty hard at that volleyball party last night. He might be moved to painting so he doesn’t almost fall off the roof again.”

“That’ll be good,” Courtney said sarcastically. “A hungover person breathing in paint fumes. Hopefully he won’t get sick all over a wall.”

“That’s some abstract art I wouldn’t want to see.” Brett finished his first slice and moved on to his second. “Anyway, what’re you up to after this? The new Bond movie came out this weekend and I want to see it.”

Had he just asked her out? Courtney froze, pizza slice in midair, unable to meet his eyes. She couldn’t sit close to him in a dark movie theater. The tension that would build between them….he shook off the thought, not wanting to dwell on it. Because it couldn’t happen.

“I’ll probably take a long shower, then try to get some work done if I don’t pass out from exhaustion first.” She said the first excuse to pop into her mind. “Any energy I have left after today needs to be spent studying for the PSAT. I can’t believe they’re coming up next week.”

“Haven’t you been studying all summer?”

“Yes,” she said. “But I want to review everything to make sure I’m ready.”

“If you’re not ready by now, that won’t change in the next few days,” he said. “And I’m sure you’ll do great, but it’s only the PSATs. The colleges don’t see them. You can take a night off to go to the movies.”

He might be right, but she didn’t trust herself in a movie theater with him. And she really had planned on studying. “The colleges don’t see them, but if I do well I can qualify for a National Merit Scholarship,” she said. “I’ve been wanting that scholarship since freshman year.”

“It’s pretty competitive, right?” Brett polished off his second slice of pizza. Courtney had only just finished her first.

“Out of the 1.5 million juniors who take the PSAT every year, 8,200 of them get a scholarship.” Courtney recited the facts she’d memorized. “It’s competitive, but not impossible. With all the studying I’ve done on my own, along with my tutoring, I should score high enough to be in the top three percent of test takers eligible to compete.”

“You’ve certainly studied hard enough,” Brett said. “But you don’t have to be nervous. Of course it’s worth giving it a shot, but if you don’t get a scholarship, Adrian will pay for you to go to college.”

“I know.” Courtney sighed. As much as she hated the idea of Adrian paying for her college, she wouldn’t be able to refuse if that was the difference between going to Stanford or not going to Stanford. “But I’ve wanted this for over two years. I’m not going to give up now. Plus, receiving the National Merit Scholarship looks good on college applications.”

“I’m sure it does,” Brett said. “But don’t stress too much. Try to relax. You’ve prepared enough that you’ll benefit more by making sure you’re well rested before the testing day instead of staying up late to study.”

“That’s a good point,” she said. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.” He watched her closely, as if contemplating whatever he was thinking of saying next. “So if you’re not up for the movie, why don’t we study together?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her half-­finished second slice of pizza. “Maybe,” she said, hating how he’d caught her so unaware. “But I probably won’t be able to get much studying done…. I’ll be so exhausted after working in the heat all day that it’ll be impossible to focus. Anyway,” she said before he could figure out another way to ask her out, “the teachers started cleaning up the lunch area. I’m gonna go help out with that.” She moved to stand up, fumbling to take her empty water bottle and plate with her.

“Courtney?” Brett said, and she paused, her breath stopping in her chest. “Are you planning on finishing that?” He glanced at the half-finished slice of pizza on her plate, and her heart fell to her stomach. What had she wanted him to say?

Certainly not that.

“No.” She thrust her plate at him and stood up. “Enjoy it. I’ll see you around.”

She tried not to glance back at him as she walked away, but she couldn’t help it. He must have been waiting for it, because he gave her a wave with what was left of the pizza, and she felt terribly guilty for running away.

If suppressing her feelings for him was the right thing to do, then why did it feel so wrong?

* * *

As Brett had predicted, Oliver got moved from working on the roof to painting the outside of the house. He positioned himself next to Courtney—probably to annoy her. And he showed every sign of being hungover. He had circles beneath his eyes, his dark shaggy hair was a mess and his face took on a greenish hue every time he bent down to dip his brush into the paint. Courtney would never say it out loud, but after he’d bet he could sleep with her and her sisters over the summer and had tried to kiss her when she’d told him she wasn’t interested, she couldn’t help enjoying seeing him so miserable.

He wiped sweat from his brow, leaving a streak of paint in its place. “One more hour of this torture,” he complained, taking a break from painting to sip his water.