Free Confessions of a Heartbreaker by Jennifer Sucevic Page B

have to be other girls out there who aren't total head cases that have just as much going for them.
    Find one of them, man! Stop subjecting us to Looney Tunes and her epic meltdowns.
    For some inexplicable reason I decide to add fuel to the fire and give her a little wave. She looks precariously close to snapping. Her eyes narrow even further before she turns to confer with her table of dyed blonde, Emily wannabes.
    "Dude, you're just making it worse."
    "Is that really possible? She caught you talking about-"
    Max elbows me hard in the ribs before nodding his head all subtle-like towards the three girls who're watching us rather owlishly. Well, Lindsey and Annabelle are staring at us wide eyed. Jordan just looks aggravated that I'm still here. I want to tell her to get used to it, because I'm not going anywhere. But she'll figure that out soon enough for herself.
    "We don't really need to bring that up, do we?"
    Yeah, I guess he's probably right.
    Max continues to eat as his eyes rake over each girl. I can almost see the proverbial wheels in his head turning. The first two blush profusely as he inspects them silently. Then his eyes land on Jordan. Arching a brow, she holds his gaze with a challenging look of her own. Yep, she's definitely not one to back down.
    God, I love that about her.
    It's so damn hot!
    Schwing!
    Max's eyes slide back to mine for just a moment. And of course there's a knowing smirk to go along with the grin he's suddenly sporting.
    Crap.
    I can tell that he's totally figured me out. Honestly, I thought he and Ms. Insane-in-the-Membrane would be back together by now. And they usually eat lunch together because Max is like one of Emily's accessories. Kind of like one of those yappy little dogs in a handbag. She loves to drag him around, showing off all the rather impressive tricks he can do.
    And Max loves how she rewards him for good behavior...
    "So Jordan," he begins-
    I want to bury my head in my hands.
    "-How do you know my boy, Parker, here?"
    Double crap.
    I still haven't told anyone about the tutoring and let's all admit that if Max finds out about it, he'll have an absolute field day with that information. I can only hold my breath as I wait for her answer.
    "I-"
    "Parker! What are you doing sitting all the way over here?"
    Who would have ever thought that I'd actually feel relieved to see Marissa Sandberg?
    That is, of course, until she bounces her way right onto my lap.
    Okay. So now I have a problem and I can tell that it hasn't gone unnoticed by Marissa. She flashes me a huge, mega-watt smile as she wiggles her bottom on my woody which unbeknownst to her, is because of another girl.
    Awkward.
    She wraps her arms around my neck before pulling me close. Then she whispers in my ear, "My, my, my, it's nice to see you too !  Do you want me to take care of that little problem for you?"
    Alright, first of all- don't ever call my junk little . Because it is so not little. It's totally massive. Like weapons of mass destruction massive.
    Second- what the hell am I really supposed to say to that?
    Of course I don't want her taking care of anything for me. Hell, I don't even want her on my lap right now.  My eyes slide tentatively to Jordan who sits watching us with an expression of... I'm not even sure what that expression means. Although I do know enough to realize that it's not good. It doesn't exactly look like jealousy. Which is unfortunate because if it were, at least I would know that I was making some headway here.
    All I know is that I've got to get this girl off me pronto if I have any hope of shoring up the damage that Hurricane Marissa just caused.
    But I'm not quick enough because suddenly Marissa's hands are stroking all over me. It's like public molestation or something like that. And now I'm remembering why I dubbed her Marissa-the-barnacle.
    This is definitely not a good situation for me because Jordan already thinks that I'm the male equivalent of the school slut. I really don't need to