Girl at Heart

by Kelly Oram

  “Leila,” Jace warns, sounding horrified in the same way I get when my father says something outrageous. His cheeks turn as red as I’m sure mine do.

  Leila King is the female version of her brother, all the way down to the easy, dimpled smile. But where Jace is laid back and low-key, Leila is outgoing and bubbly.

  Leila lets me go and steps back. Jace hovers beside me, looking worried, but even though I’m shell-shocked and not much of a hugger, I smile at Leila. She’s so friendly and sweet and genuine that you can’t help but like her. “Nice to meet you.” My face heats up, and I grip the straps of my backpack. “And thanks for helping me. I know it’s a little crazy.”

  Leila dials back the enthusiasm, and her smile softens. “It’s not so crazy. I’d be lost without my mom and my girlfriends to keep me sane. A girl’s got to have her girl time. That’s lesson number one.”

  “I don’t even know what that means.” I shake my head, but I’m still smiling. Girl time. It sounds like something in a movie. I didn’t realize that was something girls really did.

  Leila grins at me with a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Oh, don’t worry. You’re going to love it.” She links her arm through mine and starts walking us toward the cafeteria. Jace falls into step on my other side. “So does Sunday work for you?” Leila asks. “I already looked at Jace’s schedule. You have a game Saturday, but you’re off Sunday.”

  I gulp. This is my last chance to back out. I have no idea what “girl time” entails, but the whole point of all of this is to learn. Leila seems like a whirlwind, but she also seems really sweet. She pulls us to a stop in front of the cafeteria doors and waits for my answer. She’s watching me with such hopeful eyes, and when I look at Jace, he gives me an encouraging nod. He’s right. I can do this. “Um. Yeah, I guess that’s all right.”

  Leila’s whole face lights up, and she claps her hands. “Yay! Okay, if you want to expand your wardrobe, I’ll need to go through your closet first to see what we have to work with. Can I meet you at yours?”

  “Um.” My house? I don’t know why I didn’t expect that. But she’s right. She needs to help me with clothes. And Jace has seen the place already. “Okay. Yeah. My house at nine?”

  “Perfect.”

  I glance at Jace again. “You’ll come, too, right?” The thought of being alone with Leila makes me panic. I think I need to be eased into this girl-time thing.

  “Promise.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief, and Jace grins. Leila wrinkles her nose, but when she sighs, there’s no real annoyance behind it. “All right, fine. He can come.” She glares at her brother and points a warning finger at him. “But it’s girl time, understand? We’re going to do girly things, and you can’t complain about it.”

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’ll be good.”

  Leila narrows her eyes. “You’d better.”

  The two of them are really cute together. Makes me wish I had a sibling.

  Jace must convince Leila, because she suddenly gives up on glaring at him and flashes me another beautiful smile. “Nine a.m. Sunday at casa de Charlie. Can’t wait.” She pushes through the cafeteria doors and nods toward the popular table. “You want to join me today? I could introduce you to some of the girls.”

  I glance at the table full of cheerleaders and football players, and my face pales. One new person at a time, I can handle. A whole table full of them? Yeah…I don’t think so. Thankfully, Jace comes to my rescue. “Maybe we should ease her into this, Leelee. You first, then the rest of them.”

  He grabs my hand and chuckles when I cling to it for dear life.

  “Aww,” Leila says. “I didn’t think you’d be shy. Sorry. I can take it easy on you.”

  I squirm with discomfort. “I don’t know that I consider myself shy, just really introverted.”

  Jace laughs again. “I feel your pain.”

  Leila winces and nods gravely. “It’s true. He’s the biggest introvert there is.” She perks up again. “Which makes you guys perfect for each other. Okay, fine. Go be introverts together at your table, and we’ll keep things low-key on Sunday.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She pounces on me with another hug and then skips off to join her friends, hair bouncing in springy ringlets behind her. It takes me a moment to recover, and by the time I do, Jace is tugging me to our table by the hand that he’s still holding. I stumble a little when we head toward Mark Reynolds—who’s grinning at us in a way that has me blushing. When I tug my hand, Jace gives it up, but he nods toward Mark and says, “Will you sit with me today?”

  My heart flutters. Jace is as sincere as his sister, and right now he’s putting himself out there just like he did yesterday in class when he asked me to the game. I may have spazzed then, but I’m not a complete idiot. Jace is interested in me. He has to be. All signals point to it.

  My gut reaction is to freak out and worry what Eric thinks about this, but then a surprise surge of indignation bubbles up in me. Eric doesn’t want me, so why should I be worried what he thinks? Jace is hot, and nice, and I get butterflies when he shows interest. Those butterflies deserve to be explored.

  Decision made, I shrug and give Jace a small smile. “Sure.”

  Surprise flitters across Jace’s face, and then is replaced with pure pleasure. Knowing that I’ve just made him happy causes those butterflies to flare up in my stomach again. I feel confident until we reach the table and Mark’s knowing smile. Jace starts to sit beside him, and Mark pushes his shoulder. “No way. You shove down. This spot is reserved for Hastings.”

  Jace scoots over, and Mark pats the open seat between him and Jace. “Sup, Hastings? How’d King convince you to join us little people today?”

  I knew it. The whole team thinks I’m stuck up. I want to change that. I may be awkward most of the time, but thanks to all the time I spend with three obnoxious guys, I can do banter, so I muster up all my sarcasm and say, “Actually, it was the thought of getting to be in your godlike presence that did it.”

  Mark blinks at me like my sense of humor surprises him, and then a wide smile spreads across his face. “I like your style, Hastings. Feel free to stroke my ego anytime.”

  I snort and open my lunch container. I stir up the Asian chicken salad I find inside and pause before opening the dressing container. “Neither of you have some severe peanut allergy that will kill you if I open this, do you?” Both Jace and Mark look at my lunch and forget about their own. “Whoa,” Jace says while Mark says, “Fancy.”

  I cringe under their scrutiny and force myself to answer their unspoken questions. Letting people see how I live is part of making new friends. I can’t change my life. This is me. They can either accept it and be my friend or be freaked out by it and I’ll stick with Eric, Kev, and Diego. “Yeah, um, well, Dad has Eric and me on strict diets as part of our training, so he has my chef pack our lunches.”

  “Nice,” Jace says.

  Mark nods as if he agrees, but he’s eyeing my salad like it might bite him. “I don’t know if I envy you or pity you.”

  I laugh. “Probably a little bit of both. But, seriously, I’m not going to kill you with my peanut dressing?”

  Mark smirks. “Only if you make me eat it.”

  Jace laughs. “Mark is the pickiest eater you’ll ever meet.”

  Mark reaches into my lunch container and pulls out two small packs of cookies with sticky notes on them labeled Kevin and Diego. “What’s this?”

  Figures he’d be interested in the cookies. “Ross—my chef—loves to bake, but Dad, Eric, and I can’t eat that stuff, so he only ever packs it for Kevin and Diego.”

  Mark lifts a package to his nose and sniffs. He looks closely at the cookies and then wrinkles his nose again. “Raisins? What a way to ruin a cookie.”

  “You really are picky, aren’t you?”

  “Much to my mother’s dismay.” He puts the cookies back and tackles his own lunch. It’s my turn to wrinkle my nose. “Bologna? Are you fi
ve?”

  Mark pouts, as if offended. “What? It’s good!”

  Nasty. “To each his own, I guess.”

  I get about three bites into my salad when Mark hits me with another question. “So, Hastings, Jace says your house is dope.”

  Jace reaches around my back to punch Mark’s shoulder. Mark glares at Jace. “What?”

  “Don’t be rude.”

  “How was that rude?” He ignores Jace and asks me, “So how come you never have the team over?”

  “Mark.”

  He frowns at Jace again. “What? I’m just asking.”

  I cringe. “I don’t know. I just feel awkward. My house is…a bit over the top.”

  Mark grins. “Which means it’s dope. And probably the perfect place for the team party…”

  My anxiety kicks in, but then Mark gives me these puppy dog eyes that I can’t help laughing at.

  Jace leans around me to glare at his friend. “Mark. Shut up. She doesn’t want the team at her house.”

  That makes me feel bad. It’s always been true, but Jace is great and Mark seems nice. It’s kind of sad that these guys have been my teammates for four years and I barely know any of them except for Eric, Kev, and Diego.

  Mark throws his arm around my shoulder. “Aw, come on, Hastings. It’s not like we don’t all know you live in a mansion. Four years together, and you’ve never invited any of us to it. We’re all dying of curiosity.”

  He has a point. The guys may not have seen my house, but it’s not like they don’t know about it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have them over. Jace was a little starstruck by it, but he’s been cool.

  Jace suddenly knocks Mark’s arm off my shoulder, and Mark shoots him a knowing smirk before turning to me with a full-on pout. “Please? Just this once?”

  He’s holding his hands up under his chin in a begging gesture and batting his eyelashes. It’s like Jace when my dad asked him to come to the game. He’d been so excited I couldn’t say no. And I guess if I’m branching out with the whole girl thing and making new friends anyway, I may as well step all the way out of my comfort zone. “Okay, fine. I’ll talk to my dad about it,” I say, even though I know what my dad’s response will be. He’ll plan the party of the century.

  Mark fists the air with both hands. “Yes!”

  The shout gains the attention of half the team. Kevin and Diego look over and blink, surprised to see me sitting with Jace and Mark, but Eric is frowning like he’s been watching me for a while. Is he upset that I didn’t sit beside him? The look makes me feel bad, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. “What are you doing all the way over there, Hastings?” Diego asks.

  Sitting with Jace because he asked me to, and we’re friends now and I think he likes me and that gives me the good kind of butterflies. Yeah. Not saying that. “Letting Mark talk me into having the team party at my place.”

  All chatter at the table comes to an abrupt halt, and all eyes snap to me. Mouths fall open. Lunches are forgotten. My face heats up, and I cringe into Jace’s side as if he can protect me from all the attention. He slips his arm around my back and hugs me to him. I sag against him, his presence calming me.

  Diego blinks twice, shares an incredulous look with Kevin, then nods and picks up the bag of Cheetos in front of him. “Sweet.” Crunch. Talking with his mouth full: “Your dad will throw us a killer barbecue.”

  There’s a beat of silence, then all the guys on the team burst into cheers. I roll my eyes at them all, but inside I’m panicking. What did I just do? As if Jace can feel my internal struggle, he gives me another side hug and whispers in my ear, “That was really nice of you, Charlie.”

  My body melts against his. How he’s become my rock in the last twenty-four hours I have no idea, but he’s definitely keeping me sane right now. “It was probably long overdue.”

  “Still, I know that was hard for you.”

  “How could I say no?”

  He grins. “You couldn’t. You’ve just made their year.”

  I crack a smile at that. Hopefully it’ll be like Jace at the game. It could be fun to show the team a good time. Maybe it doesn’t have to be awkward. What if it never did? What if I’ve been afraid of nothing all these years and have missed out on a whole team’s worth of great friendships?

  I shrug and dig back into my lunch because the proud look on Jace’s face is making my cheeks catch fire.

  I take my time getting dressed for the game after school. I’m avoiding the guys. I can’t tell if they’re mad at me. Eric, especially, seemed weird after lunch. He was more physically affectionate than normal—walking with his arm around me and hugging me again before class—but he was quieter, too. The silence was tense, and it’s almost never like that between us.

  By the time I’m dressed and ready, I’ve stalled so long that I’m late getting on the bus. I hurry out of the locker room and slam into Jace and Coach Stanton. I knock both Jace’s bag and mine to the ground, and Jace catches me before I end up in a heap on the floor with all our gear. “Whoa. Careful.”

  His arm slips around my waist, and he holds me tight for a moment to steady me. I regain my balance, but my heartbeat goes haywire. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” I mutter, cursing myself for how breathy I sound. His arm feels really good around me.

  Jace doesn’t let me go. If anything, he pulls me tighter, and his eyes drop to my lips. My mouth goes dry, and the butterfly farm in my stomach triples in size.

  Coach clears his throat, breaking Jace from whatever spell he’s under. Jace blinks hard several times and seems to realize that he’s still holding me. A small smile flits across his face before he lets me go. “Sorry.” He doesn’t look sorry.

  “You okay?” Coach asks.

  I nod, willing my face not to heat up because Coach witnessed whatever little moment that was between Jace and me.

  Jace grabs my bag and drapes the strap over my shoulder before reaching for his own bag. I adjust my duffle on my shoulder and brave a glance at Jace. He gives me an easy smile. “Running a little late, Hastings. Not trying to miss the bus, are you?”

  His teasing is exactly what I need to get past how flustered he just made me. I look between him and Coach and smirk. “You two here to make sure I get on it?”

  “I never doubted you,” Coach says while Jace chuckles and says, “I’m prepared to drag you if I have to.”

  I laugh. Jace’s easy banter is refreshing after all the weirdness with Eric. “I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

  “Excellent,” Coach says. “Because I’ve just heard back from the head coaches at both UNC and Penn State. They’ve already got their eyes on Sullivan, but I told them about the both of you as well. They’ve looked at your game footage and have both agreed to make the trip out here to watch the two of you if we make it to the state finals, so we need every win we can get.”

  Jace and I share a glance. He hasn’t received any scholarship offers yet, either, and I’m sure he’d kill to play at either of those schools. So would I, but there’s no way I’ll get to. I can’t help feeling skeptical. “They said they’d consider me? Do you really believe that?”

  Coach doesn’t even hesitate. “That’s why I reached out to those two schools in particular. They’re your best prospects. I have a couple friends in the recruiting world, and there have been rumors that both Penn State and UNC are hard up for good catchers. My friends said your name has been thrown around, and it wasn’t immediately dismissed by those two schools.”

  Hope flares in my chest no matter how hard I try to stomp it down. I’ve been working so hard to not get my hopes up all season. I won’t survive the rejection if I honestly believe I have a real shot. It’s one thing to dream about playing collegiate ball, but it’s another thing altogether to believe it can happen.

  “I’ll keep reaching out to others, too, of course,” Coach Stanton continues. “Thanks to Sullivan, we’re going to have a lot of eyes on us now through the end of the season, but getting head
coaches out here personally is a huge deal. They’re watching you now. You both need to be on your best game from here on out.”

  Jace and I share another glance, and I recognize the emotion on his face. He’s doing the same thing I am. Trying not to get his hopes up too high, but it’s still bleeding through his eyes anyway. I didn’t realize he was so worried about not having a team to play for in the fall. He’s good. Really good. Maybe not Eric good but definitely enough to play college ball. The three of us are most of the reason why our team is undefeated this year.

  He startles me when he takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “We can do this,” he insists. I’m not sure I believe it on my part, but Jace seems to be saying it as much for himself as for me, so I pull my shoulders back and return his hand squeeze. “You bet we can.”

  “Not if you don’t both get on the bus,” Coach says. “Get a move on it.”

  “Yes, Coach,” Jace and I mutter together.

  Jace pulls me into motion, and we hurry to the bus. I don’t realize we’re still holding hands until we board the bus and the team falls quiet. All eyes are on Jace and me and focused on our interlaced fingers. I drop his hand like it’s on fire, only realizing afterward that I probably hurt his feelings. I glance back, and he gives me a tight smile. Ugh. I did hurt his feelings. I want to take his hand again, but at the same time I’m pretty sure that if I do, it’ll mean something more than a nice gesture between friends. I’m not sure I want that. The butterflies are interesting, and Jace is funny, sweet, and hot, but I can’t just turn off my feelings for Eric.

  My eyes flick to Eric. He’s not looking at me. His gaze is focused on Jace. His hard stare is startling. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that before. He’s not glaring. Not exactly. But it’s definitely not a friendly look.