Rev Girl (7 page)

Clover shoved past her father to follow Dallas out the door, and across the front porch, into the blackness of the night.

‘I'm so sorry, Dallas!' she said, trailing him out to his truck. Then she noticed Leslie's Suburban, parked in front of the garage. The interior light was on. Just so her mother and her little sister could have a front row seat for her humiliation.

Dallas glanced back at the house. Ernie was standing on the porch, arms crossed. Dallas nodded, as if to say sorry, then swung himself up into his truck.

Clover was shaking, too shocked to cry. She'd never been more embarrassed. She hated her father. How could he assume the worst, when she was only trying to do the right thing, and slow things down? That was it; proof. There was
no
pleasing her father.

After everything she'd been through; being the loser of the school, having no friends in racing, and now her life was finally on track, dating a guy so perfect and popular, like she finally belonged. Her dad trying to take it all away was the most horrible act she could imagine. Now, she really didn't care about trying to make him happy.

Before Dallas drove away, his window rolled down. He smiled, and her heart caught fire. ‘Don't worry about it!' He winked at her. ‘I'll see you at school.'

She watched his taillights disappear into the darkness.

Dallas proved to Clover that she shouldn't be worried about being grounded by making out with her in the front seat of his truck as soon as she arrived at school the next morning. Here, her father didn't exist. Neither did his stupid rules. Dallas showed her the best place to park, around the corner from the local hockey rink, opposite the school.

She was relieved when the school bell rang, however, and she could put her shirt back on, fix up her hair and lipstick. ‘Saved by the bell,' had now taken on a whole new meaning.

Every Silvertown High School pupil with Facebook, Twitter or a pair of ears had heard the news about Dallas Cash and Clover Kassedy by the time the pair tried to sneak through the back door of the school. The news had travelled as fast as a Top Fueler in a drag race.

Clover's cheeks went pink as she and Dallas made their way, hand-in-hand, past the art room towards the biology lab. Even though the classroom doors were closed and the bell had rung a few minutes ago, there were still a dozen or so students in the hallway, and every one of them looked up from their lockers or their phones and stared. A few whispered to each other. One even pointed. Clover tightened her grip on Dallas's hand. Of course it was great to be noticed, but she never expected it to be quite so … embarrassing. Thank God she'd spent some time on her appearance; no good getting attention if you looked like a slob.

She and Dallas stopped in front of the door to the bio lab. He pulled her close, and she wrapped her hands around his neck and reached up to peck him on the cheek, but before her lips met his skin, he was ripped backwards Travis, the school's football quarterback, and a few of the other guys had grabbed him from behind.

‘Sorry,' Dallas said, pushing the laughing boys off. ‘See ya at lunch?'

Clover smiled to herself, turned for the canteen and nearly dropped dead on the spot. Of course it was Dee Harding.

‘Hey, Clover,' Dee said.

‘Um, hi.'

‘So, you and Dallas, hey?'

‘Yep me and Dallas.'

‘Here I thought he was never going to appoint a girlfriend. And the Loser Canuck gets him to do it in one short weekend. One might wonder at your tactics.'

Clover's eyes narrowed into a glare and her hands started to shake.

‘I heard you were a dirty little slut,' Dee laughed. ‘But at school you've always seemed so frigid, ya know, just like the icebergs up there where you're from!' She laughed at her own stupid joke.

Clover froze on the spot, paralysed. There was just something about bullies, they were way scarier than the worst obstacle she'd ever faced on her Yamaha.

‘Ha!' Dee flicked her hair over her shoulder. ‘I don't know why people ever thought you were so tough, just because you ride motorbikes. Enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame, Canuck. If it lasts that long.'

Just before Christmas, Ernie knocked on Clover's door.

She looked up from the screen of her laptop, and the essay she was writing for English class.

The doorknob turned … In just a few days, she was supposed to be free. ‘Nice to see you've finally cleaned up in here,' Ernie said, surveying her room. He walked over to the bed, and sat down next to her. Clover closed her computer. Her back stiffened.

Ernie took a deep breath, and sat for a few moments, gathering his thoughts. He raised his eyes to the ceiling, and clasped his hands in his lap. ‘You're still seeing that boy, aren't you?'

Clover nodded with her lips clamped tight.

‘Better bring him over,' Ernie said.

Clover's breath pulled in and out through her nose, her heart gaining pace.

‘So we can meet him properly.'

‘I'll get it!' Clover yelled, sprinting for the door. It was the night before she was set to regain her freedom, and Dallas had just pulled up in his truck.

Jasmine narrowly beat her to it, earning a filthy look from her sister.

‘You must be Jasmine,' Dallas said as she flung the door open. Jasmine had let her hair out of its usual pigtails, trying to be older and cooler, no doubt.

‘Awesome to finally meet you!' Jasmine beamed. Clover imagined Jasmine and her little horsey friends, sitting around, giggling about Dallas. So embarrassing.

Clover stopped behind her. ‘I'll take it from here.'

‘It's okay, Clover.' Dallas stepped inside. She could tell he was nervous to be back at her house. He wouldn't look her in the eye, and kept wiping his palms on his jeans. She'd never seen Dallas nervous, not even before his hockey games. He'd even brought a plant, or maybe it was a flower? She'd seen them at Christmas time, but couldn't remember what to call them.

Dallas smiled at Jasmine. ‘Can I call you?'

Her rosy cheeks went red. ‘Jazz is fine.'

‘Jazz it is.'

Clover stuck a finger in her little sister's ribs. ‘You can go now.'

‘Had to, anyway,' Jasmine said. ‘Got stuff to do.'

‘Nice to meet you, Jazz,' Dallas said.

‘You, too,' she said over her shoulder, and stuck her tongue out at Clover, who flipped her off.

‘Clover! There's no need for that sort of gesture. Where are your manners?' Leslie was hovering in the kitchen doorway.

‘Hello, Mrs. Kassedy,' Dallas said, stepping forward and handing her the plant. ‘I bought you this. Sorry, I know, it isn't quite Christmas.'

‘No, no! I've got all the decorations up, just a few days away! Thank you!' Leslie took the poinsettia, and set it on the desk next to the kitchen. ‘Clover has told us so much about you.'

Liar!
Clover thought, rolling her eyes at her mother. Clover shot her a look.

Leslie, maddeningly, didn't seem to register. ‘How about you come in. A cup of tea, maybe?'

‘Dallas is here to meet you guys,' Clover said, stepping between her mother and her boyfriend. ‘But he's also going to a hockey game tonight, with Sera and her, friend. Can I please go?'

‘Is this a set up, Clover?' Leslie asked.

‘Of course not, Mom. Just how it worked out.'

Leslie put a hand on her hip and raised her chin in annoyance. Clover knew she had her. She'd never say no in front of Dallas.

‘I can come in,' Dallas said. His eyes darted nervously and he wiped his hands again. ‘Thank you, Mrs. Kassedy.'

‘No, no, call me Leslie, please. You make me feel old.'

‘You don't look old.'

Leslie went scarlet and tucked a strand of her frizzy hair behind her ear.

‘We probably have to hurry,' Clover said, striding over to the hall table, where she'd stashed her handbag. ‘I'm sure Sera's getting impatient.'

‘I'll just get your father. Ernie!' Leslie yelled over her shoulder. ‘He wants to talk to you, Dallas, but I'm just not sure where he's gotten off to. Ernie!'

Clover winced at the sound of her mother's voice.

Ernie's head popped up from the stairwell.

‘Dad, this is '

‘Dallas,' Ernie said. His built-in father's body language was saying: ‘I don't give a toss who you are, if you hurt my daughter I'll roast you on a spit.'

‘Now,' Leslie said. ‘Before you go, just remember how lucky you are to be going out. Ernie Clover and Dallas are going to a hockey game tonight. With Sera, and her friend.'

‘Oh, really,' Ernie said, glaring across at Dallas.

‘But, home by ten, Clover you remember the rules.' Then Leslie took her by the arm, and pulled her the few steps into the kitchen. Without even lowering her voice, she said, ‘And we don't need to have a chat about the birds and the bees, now, do we?'

Oh, God!
‘No, Mom!' Clover shot her mother her evilest glare. ‘And just for the record, Dallas really was just dropping me home that night!' She held her look, before hurrying back to him.

‘So Clover tells me you're a bit of a hockey player?' Ernie asked.

‘Yes, sir.'

‘You'll have to come play here sometime. The girls and I love having a game on the pond at this time of year.'

Dallas smiled. ‘I'd be honoured.'

Clover studied Ernie's face. His eyes had lost a sliver of their abrasiveness, were even starting to soften. Time to quit while they were ahead. Her plan had rocked so far. ‘Well, see you guys later!' she said, taking Dallas by the hand. ‘Everybody's waiting.'

‘Have fun,' Leslie said. ‘And home by … '

‘I'll probably just sleep over at Sera's,' Clover said.

‘No, you won't,' Ernie said. ‘You can go out with your friends, but you'll be home by curfew.'

Clover paused for a moment, considering his words. Did he know what she used to get up to at Sera's house? Surely not, he was still letting her go out. ‘Okay,' Clover said. ‘I'll be home by eleven-thirty.'

‘Yes, curfew,' Leslie said.

Ernie's eyes flickered, like he acknowledged, even appreciated, the challenge. ‘Nice try. You know it's ten. But I will give you an extra ten minutes for the effort.'

Dallas accepted Leslie's invitation to have Christmas Eve dinner with the Kassedy's.

Clover ran from her room when she heard the sound of Dallas's truck pulling up in front of the house.

Jasmine beat her to the door, again.

‘Not this time,' Clover said, and body-slammed her sister. ‘Now-let-go!' Clover reefed hard on Jasmine's hands, which were equal in size to hers and especially strong from reining in hot-blooded horses.

Jasmine didn't budge.

‘Argh!' Clover screamed loudly and stamped her foot in a childish display of temper she knew she would regret.

‘Girls!' Leslie appeared from the powder room, Clover noticed that she had pulled her hair into a ponytail and taken off her apron. ‘That's enough. Jasmine. Why don't you go tell your father to take the sticks down to the ice for our hockey game, and turn the lights on?'