Free Cali Boys by Kelli London Page B

small and holey.
    Diggs looked down at her feet, then huffed what seemed to be a laugh. He looked back at her face and nodded. “Well, since you’re not sure, when you find out if you are sure—and if we ever see each other again—then you can let me know.” And with that, he turned and walked away.
    Kassidy’s pride stuck in her throat, and it took everything in her to swallow it and keep her head high. She’d never been turned down by a guy before, and found rejection hard to bear. Diggs had stood there, inches from her face, and hadn’t been swayed in the least. His not being moved by her, moved her to a place she’d never before been: in the chaser’s seat. She shrugged. Life was life. And one thing it’d taught her was that being in the presence of one boy could help her stop thinking about another. She hadn’t heard back from Carsen, which would normally kill her ego, but that was already dead, thanks to Diggs. She couldn’t find Brent. Romero was only her friend. Diggs wasn’t interested. She only hoped Carsen was available as she made her way back into the house to call him.

WHERE THE BOYS ARE

9
    JACOBI
    J acobi picked up her phone for the gazillionth time, checking for a text message or missed call from Shooby. She looked at the blank screen and cringed. Nothing. Nada. He hadn’t reached out at all. In fact, she hadn’t heard one word from him since the day of the motorcycle show almost a week ago, and even then he hadn’t said much other than they’d have to talk later and that he’d try to find out where Katydid had moved to since Katydid’s cell had been disconnected, and Jacobi couldn’t call or text her. A flash-mob notice had been sent out, and he was on “duty” using a Harley-Davidson motorcycle as a stationary surfboard while holding a sign and singing “Respect,” an old Aretha Franklin song, at the top of his lungs. Some of the crew danced wearing Blues Brothers–style black fedoras and sunglasses. The demonstration had been ordered by the American Federation of Flash Mobbers: A For the People and By the People Teen Citizens Group to urge consumers to use less gasoline because it is damaging the ozone layer. It had been beautiful, Jacobi remembered—what she’d seen of it. She had gotten to the show seconds before the demonstration was over, and Shooby hadn’t seemed too happy about her tardiness and lack of participation.
    â€œSo, what are you going to do?” Alissa asked, reading the directions on a box of hair dye while rifling through Jacobi’s closet.
    Jacobi tilted her head. She didn’t know what Alissa was talking about. The girl had come over with hair dye that she insisted Jacobi needed to lighten her hair, availed herself of the contents of their fridge and their candy, then talked the whole time. But Jacobi hadn’t heard her because she’d learned how to tune her out. “Do about what?”
    â€œI told you, already. The set.” Alissa stuck a lollipop in her mouth.
    â€œWhat set?”
    Alissa laughed. “You know, set? As in party. My parents are having a family gathering, party-type thingy up the coast, at my great-aunt’s beach house by Santa Barbara. They said I could bring friends along,” she said.
    Jacobi was about to decline when Alissa mentioned the magic words.
    â€œDid you hear me? They said friends—plural. Maybe we can invite other people ... like a cute boy or two, and maybe you can invite your unboyfriend.”
    Now Jacobi perked up. Going away with Alissa’s family would provide her with a great opportunity to have Shooby all to herself. She could get away from her mother and siblings, shoot a few lives and stills, give the stock market a rest, and relax somewhere on the beach in a new swimsuit next to Shooby. Ah , she thought, daydreaming. It would be fantastic. “I could film the gathering. You know, as a