Girl at Heart

by Kelly Oram

  “Hey,” I say, moving toward him with a frown. Why is he looking at Jace like that? He can’t be jealous. He asked Shelly Turner to prom. He doesn’t want me.

  Eric finally drags his eyes away from Jace when I stop beside him. “This seat taken?” I ask, gesturing to the empty space beside him. I’m still frowning. I can’t help it.

  He glances back at Jace again before forcing a smile at me and scooting over. “Saved it just for you.”

  I give Jace a smile that I hope he knows is sincere before I throw my bag next to Eric’s on the empty seat behind us and plop down. Jace returns the smile and heads a couple seats back to go sit with Reynolds. It’s just like every other time we’ve ridden the bus for away games, except somehow it all feels different.

  Diego and Kevin both scoot in close when I sit down. Diego is across the aisle from us. Kevin is sitting on the seat in front of us and is turned around backwards, facing us. Diego is the first to speak. “So what’s up with you giving away my ticket to the game yesterday, Hastings?”

  What he’s really asking is: What’s going on with me? I sigh inwardly. I can’t blame any of them for their curiosity. They even look worried, which is sweet. But that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it. I shrug. “I don’t know. Figured it was time to spread the wealth a little.”

  Eric narrows his eyes. “Is that why you agreed to hold the team party at your place?”

  I think back to Mark’s pleading face and smile a little. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I know they’re all curious, and my dad’s always trying to get me to invite the team over. He’ll be thrilled.”

  “But are you okay with it?” Eric asks. “It’s not like you to offer.”

  I kind of hate that he’s right. “Maybe it should be.”

  “Is that what King told you?”

  I startle at the harsh tone and frown at Eric, but he doesn’t back off. He folds his arms and waits for me to answer him. “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Did King tell you you need to open up more? Is he pressuring you?”

  “What?” I’m truly startled. “Of course he’s not. Why would you think that?”

  “Because you’re acting weird,” Kevin says. “Wanting to quit the team, not answering our calls, going to the game with someone else, not sitting with us at lunch.”

  “And all of a sudden you’re all buddy-buddy with Jace and inviting the team to your house,” Diego adds.

  I wince. When they spell it all out like that, I can see why they’re upset. “Okay, first of all, I quit the team before I went to the game with Jace; it had nothing to do with him. He was just in the right place at the right time and was a good friend when I needed one.”

  “Since when is he your friend?”

  My frown deepens. I get that Eric is angry, but I don’t like how he’s acting like I did something wrong. “We’ve been on the same team for four years. He’s our captain. Of course we’re friends.”

  “You’re teammates,” Eric argues. “You’ve never been friends. Not close friends.”

  “Well, we are now,” I snap, unable to help getting defensive. “I needed someone to listen last night, and he was there. He was kind and understanding, and it meant a lot to me. Don’t get mad at him. He didn’t do anything except be a good friend.”

  Eric deflates a little, losing his antagonism. He looks away, glaring out the window, arms still folded tightly across his chest. “I’m not mad at him.”

  Pain lances my chest. Eric hasn’t been this mad at me in years. When I say nothing—because I have no idea what to say—Eric jerks his head back and glares at me. “We would have been there for you, if you’d have let us. We’re your best friends, and you shut us out. Do you have any idea how worried we were? Or how it felt to watch you on TV, smiling and laughing with Jace, when you wouldn’t even answer a single text from any of us?”

  The pressure in my chest becomes suffocating. Eric isn’t just angry; he’s hurt. A quick glance at Kevin and Diego says they’re every bit as upset as Eric. They have a right to be. If it were me and they’d had a freakout and ignored me, I’d be upset, too. I was devastated that they’d made prom plans without me, and then I’d gone and shut them out the same way.

  I messed up, and I feel like crap. My eyes burn, and my throat tingles. “I’m sorry,” I croak. “I should have answered you guys.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Kevin asks softly.

  I’m totally going to cry. When did I become such a watering pot? I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to push back the tears welling behind my eyes. “I don’t know.”

  That’s a lie, but I’m not telling them the truth. I can’t tell them that I’m in love with Eric. Not when I know he doesn’t feel the same way. It would ruin our friendship. And all that other stuff about not knowing how to be a girl? That’s just embarrassing. I hadn’t meant to tell Jace, either.

  Diego surprises me by placing his hand on my knee. “What’s going on with you, Hastings?”

  I could try to explain it to them, but they won’t understand. They’ve known me too well for too long. The girl stuff has always freaked them out. I choose the cowardly way out and only give them part of it. “I’m just stressed. I’m not going to have a team next year. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I can’t play anymore. I guess I didn’t want to talk to you all about it because none of you have the same problem. You and Kev aren’t trying to join college teams, and Eric’s going to be drafted. I’m trying not to be jealous and bitter, but it’s really hard. I guess it was easy to talk to Jace because he’s in the same boat I am. He doesn’t have any scholarship offers, either.”

  “Charlie.” Eric’s voice cracks, and he makes a pained face like his heart is breaking for me. “You’re amazing. You never know. You could—”

  “Stop.” I slice my hand through the air and close my eyes again. Those tears are getting way too close to falling down my cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I sniff and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Let’s talk about something else. Anything else.”

  There’s a long pause, and then Diego breaks it. He’s grinning when he says, “Like our boy Sullivan being nominated for prom king?”

  My eyes snap open. “Shut. Up.” I smack Eric’s arm. “Seriously? You’re on the prom court? When did this happen?”

  Eric turns his head back out the window and shrugs. His neck is bright red and so are the tips of his ears. “It’s not a big deal,” he mutters.

  “They won’t announce it until tomorrow,” Kevin says.

  “Then how do you know already?”

  Kevin grins evilly at Diego. “Go ahead, D.” He nudges Diego with his elbow. “Tell her how you know.”

  Diego punches Kevin. “Man, shut up.”

  “What?” I ask, glancing between the three of them. Eric is no longer hiding his face but is smirking at Diego along with Kevin. Diego is as red as a cherry.

  “D’s prom date is on student council. She helped tally the results of the nominations. She told him right after school today.”

  I don’t get it. “Why is that so funny?”

  “That’s not the funny part,” Eric says. He and Kevin both snicker.

  “Okay, what?” The suspense is killing me.

  “She’s a freshman,” Kevin blurts.

  My eyebrows hit the ceiling, and both Eric and Kevin bust up laughing. I gape at Diego. I try hard not to laugh. I really do. But Diego looks so embarrassed; it’s too funny. “You asked a freshman to senior prom?” I burst out laughing.

  “I didn’t know!” he cries. “She’s in my art class, and she’s smoking hot.”

  Kevin starts laughing like a hyena. “She’s fifteen!”

  “Barely fifteen,” Eric adds.

  “She doesn’t look fifteen,” Diego grumbles.

  “I don’t think that’s going to help your case when you have to meet her dad on prom night,” Kev points out.

  Diego pales, and we all burst into laughter again.
When he and Kevin start arguing about the technicalities of jailbait, I nudge Eric. “I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls.”

  Eric sighs. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

  I swallow a big ball of guilt. “I know. I’m sorry.” I lean my head on his shoulder. “Are we okay?”

  Eric puts his arm around me and pulls me into a side hug. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

  Life goes on pretty normally the rest of the week. There’s no more drama, anyway. I do talk with Jace and Mark a lot more, though. I even sit with them at lunch again, and we talk about the team party that my dad is beyond thrilled to host. The guys don’t say anything about my new friendships, but I can tell it’s throwing them off a little. I try to ignore it. I like Jace and Mark, and I’m not going to stop being their friend just because the guys are being weird about it.

  When Sunday arrives, I’m a bundle of excited nerves. Things have gone so well with Jace and Mark, I’m hoping Leila will be just as great. The gate intercom rings right at nine. I buzz Jace and Leila through and head out front to meet them. “Wow,” Leila says when she gets out. She’s staring up at the sprawling Tuscan-style estate in front of her with her hand at her throat. “Your home is beautiful.”

  “Um, thanks.”

  She doesn’t give me the chance to feel too awkward about the extravagance. Her attention quickly goes from the house to me. She squeezes me in a bone-crushing hug, then grips me by the arms. The awe is gone, and all that’s left is bubbly excitement. “Are you ready? I’ve been dying all week. I am so excited for today.”

  “Leila,” Jace warns.

  Leila lets go of me, but the wide smile stays spread across her face. “Can we check out your closet?”

  I glance at Jace, and he holds his hands up like he’s on the wrong end of a stickup. “Don’t look at me. I’m only here for moral support and to veto anything too outrageous. Otherwise, I’ve been warned to butt out and let you guys do your thing.”

  “Okay, then.” I shrug at Leila. “I guess it’s closet time.”

  I sweep my hand out in an after-you gesture, but Leila links her arm in mine and pulls me up the front steps arm-in-arm. I look back at Jace again, startled, and he laughs. “Hey, you’re the one who wants to learn how to be a girl.” He waves toward Leila. “The hugging, and hanging on each other, and hair petting seems to be mandatory.”

  I stop in the doorway and gape at Jace. “Hair petting?”

  He sticks his hands in his pockets and nods. “It’s a thing. Trust me.”

  Leila rolls her eyes at her brother and drags me into the house. “There’s nothing wrong with being affectionate.” She gives my arm a squeeze. “It’s true, though. Girls are a lot more touchy-feely than guys. You’ll get used to it. If I make you uncomfortable, just tell me.”

  I’m not sure what to say. Surprisingly, I don’t hate that she’s in my space. It makes me feel like she cares. It is strange, though. None of the guys would be caught dead walking arm-in-arm together. Not even with me.

  Leila looks around the foyer and blinks up at the chandelier in the middle of the rounded staircase. “Oh, wow. Sorry. I’m totally gawking, but that is gorgeous.”

  I take a breath and force myself to get over my weirdness. “I can give you a tour of the house, if you want.”

  Leila stares a moment longer, then smiles at me again. “Later, definitely, but for now, which way to your room? I’m dying to see your closet.”

  I flash Jace a wry smile. I totally get what he said about her being relentless, and I have a feeling I haven’t seen anything yet. I point up the stairs. “It’s up there to the left.”

  “Excellent.”

  She drags me up the stairs, with her arm still looped through mine, and Jace trails quietly behind us. When we reach my room, she stumbles to a stop. “Are you serious? This room is huge! You have a private balcony and a fireplace? And look at all the pillows on that bed! It looks so soft. Do you care if I try it?”

  She’s being completely serious. It’s too amusing to feel awkward, so I shrug a shoulder. “Go for it.”

  She flings herself onto the bed on her back and squeaks when she sinks into the down comforter. The throw pillows sort of swallow her up. “Oh my gosh, this bed is amazing. Jace, you’ve got to try this!”

  Jace gives me a sheepish smile. “Sorry. There’s no excuse for her.”

  “Jace, come on.”

  I laugh and quirk an eyebrow at Jace. “She sounds determined. I think you’d better give it a try.”

  Jace gives me a long, suffering sigh, but there’s a smile of affection on his lips when he lets his sister pull him down onto my big, fluffy bed. “Amazing, right?” Leila asks as she bounces in place.

  Jace rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, it’s very soft. Are we done making idiots of ourselves yet?”

  “Ugh.” Leila groans. “You’re no fun. Fine.” She sits up with a grin and claps once. “Okay, clothes.”

  I stop in front of the closet door before I open it. “You’re going to laugh.”

  Leila eyes my closet door with a frown. “It can’t be that bad. I’ve only ever seen you in jeans and T-shirts, but at least they fit.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  I throw my closet door open for Leila and Jace to enter. The room is nearly half the size of the bedroom, with all kinds of built-in drawers, shelves, and shoe racks. There’s a bench in the middle for you to sit on, a vanity counter for accessorizing, and several full-length mirrors. It’s like a fancy dressing room. All that’s missing is motorized clothes racks. (And all the clothes.)

  Leila walks in and freezes, gaping at the room with utter rapture. Jace, on the other hand, takes a look around and does exactly what I expect him to. He laughs. “Right?” I ask, shaking my head shamefully.

  Leila frowns at us. “How can you laugh at this? This is the most incredible closet I’ve ever seen.”

  “It’s also empty,” Jace says. He points to the one tiny corner where I have a few things hanging up and a couple pairs of shoes on the racks. “I think you have less clothes than I do.”

  I blush. “I’ve never been much of a shopper.”

  Leila looks around the room with a new perspective and narrows her eyes in calculation. “Because you don’t like it, or because you have to go with boys?”

  “I—” I think about it and frown. “I don’t know. I’ve only ever gone shopping by myself or with my dad. I go in the stores, and I don’t really know what to buy. There’s too much to choose from, and I have no idea what would look good, so I just go with what I’ve worn my whole life.”

  Leila moves to the small rack of clothes and sifts through them, a look of serious concentration on her face. She glances at the shoes, then moves to the drawers next. “May I?” she asks.

  I’m not sure why she wants to rifle through the drawers, but I wave her on and she goes to work sifting through my clothes. Lots of jeans and T-shirts. When she gets to my underwear drawer, I blush and try to close it. “Oh, that’s just my—”

  “I know. It’s okay. I’ve just got to see what we’re dealing with here.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me. Cute underwear is practically a girl’s rite of passage.”

  My face flames, and I flick my eyes toward Jace. He’s red as a tomato. He points toward the door. “I’m going to go try out the fluffy bed again.”

  He runs away like the closet is on fire, and Leila snorts. “Boys.” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ll send him on a smoothie run or something when we shop for the good stuff.”

  My mortification is only slightly lessened now that Jace isn’t in here listening to us talk about my underwear. “Do I really need new underwear? No one’s going to see it.”

  “That’s so not the point. You’ll see. We’ll just start you off with one or two sets, and if you love it—which you will—we can go shopping another day without my dopey brother.”

  Leila opens another drawer and pulls out my
rash guard and board shorts. “What’s this?” By the inflection of her voice, she already knows and is completely horrified.

  “My swimsuit?”

  Leila takes a deep breath. “Okay.” She lets the breath out slowly and closes the drawer with the offending swimsuit. “What kind of budget do you have for today?”

  “Um…” I blush again. “I don’t really have a budget.”

  Leila’s eyes pop wide open. “Like, none?”

  I shrug a shoulder and wrap my arms around my stomach. “I’m on my dad’s accounts, and when I explained to Dad what we were doing, his exact words were, ‘Let her go crazy, but don’t buy anything too revealing. I’m too young to have a heart attack.’”

  Leila’s mouth drops open. Once she can close it again and form words, she squeals and drags me out of the closet. “This is going to be the best day ever!”

  We head out to the twins’ car—an ancient Corolla—and Jace runs ahead of us to open the passenger door for me. It takes me a moment to realize that’s what he’s doing, and then I promptly freeze. The look on my face must say it all, because Jace frowns. “Hasn’t anyone ever opened a door for you?”

  I snort without thinking. (It’s very unladylike.) “Are you kidding? I have to wrestle the guys for shotgun privileges. When they don’t force me to drive, that is. It’s like going to war. There’s usually bruising involved.”

  Jace blinks at me. “They don’t give you the front seat?”

  “Not unless I beat them to it.”

  Jace shakes his head and then flashes me a charming smile. “Well then, Miss Charlotte, allow me to treat you like a girl.” He takes my hand and helps me into the front seat, then softly closes the door for me. I will admit it: I totally swoon. Complete with a fluttering heart and wistful sigh and all.

  “He’s cute, isn’t he?”

  “Huh?” I startle, and turn to see Leila grinning at me. “What?”

  Yeah, my innocent denial isn’t fooling anyone. Her smile grows. “Jace,” she says as the boy in question slips into the back seat and puts on his buckle. “He’s so polite all the time. I think it’s from having so many sisters and a mother that would kill him if he were ever less than a gentleman. Boy knows how to treat a girl right. He’s sensitive, too. Did you know he loves to babysit and can even French braid hair? I don’t know why he never has a girlfriend.”