Dare You to Chase the Soccer Player (Rock Valley High Book 5)

by Lacy Andersen

  I wasn’t going to be able to keep this charade going for much longer.

  Mighty Lexi was fast retreating.

  “So...am I free to go?” My voice sounded more frog-like than princess. With a slight cough, I glanced at the director. Desperation was at an all-time high. “You’re good?”

  He waved his hand, with no sign that he could sense my nerves fraying. “Yep, Janelle’s back. You’re done here.”

  Nothing could’ve kept me from bursting out of that position. I was Usain Bolt at the starting block, not daring to glance back at the boy looking as cool as a cucumber in front of a crowd of people. Not at all like the boy on the phone last night. The one that seemed sort of shy and reluctant. The one who’d said he couldn’t stop thinking about me. Rushing to pick up my spray bottle, I nearly knocked someone over. With a gasp, I looked up and steadied Janelle before I could maim yet another lead actor.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m fine,” she said with a dismissive wave, tilting her head to one side to get a better look at me. A calculating look shone in her eyes. “That was quite the camera check, Makeup Girl. Not sure I’ve ever seen so much chemistry. You trying to take my role out from under me?”

  “W-what? No!” I hugged the spray bottle to my abdomen. Taking Janelle’s part was the very last thing on my mind. It was a certain boy that I couldn’t get out of my head who was causing all of the problems. “I do makeup. For Alanis. That’s what I do. Nothing else. For reals.”

  Real cool. As smooth as chunky peanut butter.

  “Hmmm, right.” Janelle smiled slyly and then combed her fingers through her loose waves. Her thick black eyelashes fluttered dangerously. “Well, let’s just say you’re not the first girl to go all mushy over Zane Rees. He has that effect on women. Trust me, he won’t bite. Been there, tried that. You’d have more luck with Freddy. You should go for him.”

  I wasn’t sure if this was some kind of bonding moment between us, but being offered a girl’s leftovers wasn’t exactly familiar territory for me. Was I supposed to feel grateful?

  Glancing over my shoulder, my gaze landed on Zane. He was stretching his arms behind his back and bending his neck from side to side, as if getting ready to run a marathon. My heart ached at the sight of him behaving so normally. I’d nearly lost my mind in that short two-minute stint and he hadn’t broken a sweat. But that was probably a good thing. Janelle didn’t need to become suspicious about Zane and me. If he could do it, so could I. So, I turned back toward her with a tight-lipped smile and nodded like a bobble-head doll on a dashboard.

  “Um, sure. I’d never go for Zane, anyway. He’s totally not my type.”

  Crisis averted. Maybe I wasn’t as much of a lost cause as I thought I was. I could be an actress. An actress who didn’t feel an ounce of heat whenever Zane looked at her. Not me. It was totally Antarctica up in here.

  Janelle’s eyes flashed and she leaned closer, her perfume cloud nearly choking the life out of me. “You can’t lie to me or yourself. He’s every girl’s type. Those baby blues could talk their way into anything. I wouldn’t say no to that and I know you wouldn’t either.”

  I laughed nervously, wondering how to reply to that, but Janelle seemed to be done with me. She strutted past and onto the soccer field, taking her rightful spot next to Zane. Watching her go, a pit formed in my stomach.

  Jealousy wasn’t my thing. Longing for Janelle’s sky-high legs or symmetrical face was a waste of time. I knew that. No amount of pining or makeup could change it. I rocked the things I’d been given. But when she took her place next to Zane and draped a hand over his shoulder as if she belonged there, I couldn’t help but get a dose of the evil green monster.

  They looked good together. And even if Zane wasn’t allowed to date, at least Janelle got to pretend to be with him on the big screen. That was more than I’d ever have.

  “Ms. Black, what are you doing?”

  I did an about-face to see Alanis marching toward me. She’d traded the wind suit for a neon green romper today. Steadying myself for her mood, I held the spray bottle up.

  “Staying on alert, in case they need me. Do you want me back at the trailer instead? I could grab your next actor.”

  “No.” She fluttered her hand and then frowned at me. “Stay as long as you’d like. The day is over for me. No more shoots. And I’ve got a meeting to hit.”

  I wasn’t going to ask her about the meeting. After Zane’s explanation last night, I was pretty sure I knew what kind of meeting that was. “Oh, thank you. Have a good night, Alanis.”

  She turned to leave but paused and turned slightly back to face me. It seemed she wasn’t done with me yet. Fear churned in my gut. I’d done the best I could today, but that didn’t mean Alanis wouldn’t swing the executioner’s axe. I hadn’t quit like I’d wanted to, but it was obvious I was hanging on by a thin rope. All it would take was one word from her and I’d be done.

  “Maybe, tomorrow, I’ll show you my contouring technique,” she said in a gravelly voice.

  No deadly swing of the axe? But a tutorial session instead? I could feel my face light up. This was progress. Gripping the spray bottle as tightly as I could, I jumped up and down with excitement.

  “...that is, if you don’t annoy me.” Alanis’ frown deepened, her dark eyes darting over me as I bounced. “No promises. See you tomorrow.”

  Her insult did nothing to squash the joy that had burst open in my heart. So much progress. Zane was right. I just needed to keep pushing through and Alanis would respect that. He’d been right to talk me into coming back today.

  Progress. That was all it took. Two days ago, I wouldn’t have thought it possible for Alanis to offer to teach me anything. We were getting somewhere. All I needed to do now was figure out how to resist the tug in my abdomen every time Zane was within sight.

  Things were looking up again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Okay, so maybe I’d jumped the gun on that whole things were looking up thought.

  Things were definitely not looking up. Not yet. Because in English lit, every teen girl’s dreams and hopes went to die a terrible and gruesome death. Especially under the judging eyes of Mr. Garret.

  I stared down at the bright red D circled on the front of my latest pop quiz on Shakespeare. Happy Friday to me. He’d added a minus sign to it, probably just to give it an extra little kick in the gut. I glared at the bald spot on the back of his large head as he walked past my test. So much for starting this year off right. I’d be lucky to pass this class with a C.

  This wasn’t what Dad had had in mind when he’d said I had to keep my grades up. Another quiz like this and I was going to be in huge trouble. No more movie set for me. The closest I’d get to Hollywood was watching Dad’s spaghetti westerns on the TV late at night because I’d been grounded from all other technology. I probably shouldn’t have spent another hour on the phone with Zane last night, but I hadn’t been able to help it. Talking with him was starting to be the best part of my day.

  And he was only going to be around for another two weeks.

  “People, this is your junior year. You’re not babies anymore. You cannot be phoning it in.” Mr. Garret turned at the front of the room to shoot us a superior smile. Somehow, he’d stuffed his pudgy belly into the ugliest tight brown sweater vest I’d ever seen, along with matching khaki pants held in place by a black belt. He leaned back on his desk and rubbed a hand over his wiry beard as his eyes darted around the room. “I expect junior-level work or better and you left a lot to be desired. I will not baby you, like the other teachers. Elevate your work or expect to be stuck in summer school.”

  A silent gasp went through the room. I just knew every single one of us were imagining sitting in this stuffy old classroom all summer long with nothing but Mr. Garret and a white board. Gross. Summer school was not an option for me. I had my eyes on earning enough to buy a new eye shadow pallet from MAC. There was no way I’d get enough money if I was stuc
k in here.

  The bell rang and Mr. Garret dismissed us all with a wave of his hand. He rounded the desk and went to sit in his chair. Stuffing the pop quiz angrily in my backpack, I hung back to weigh my options as Charlotte and Beth headed out the door. If he were any other teacher, I’d put on my most charming smile and walk straight up to him asking about extra credit options. But this was Mr. Garret we were talking about. He loved to torture kids—and he hated me most of all. There was no way that plan would work out.

  “Hey, Lexi.” Erik Manson, the second-string quarterback for our football team, smiled at me from one aisle over. He wore a gray t-shirt today that hugged the shapely muscles of his throwing arm. With a careless toss of his blond, shaggy head, he shot me another killer smile. “Any plans for this weekend? I heard they’re showing the new thriller at the theater tonight.”

  Normally, I would’ve been all over that like avocado on toast, but Erik’s brown eyes and charming grin just weren’t having the same effect they usually did. There was no flicker of excitement in my chest, not even at the idea of feeling up those biceps while in line for the concessions stand. I was pretty sure there was someone to blame for my lack of reaction.

  Never mind that he was still totally off limits.

  “I’m just working.” I shrugged at Erik and shouldered my backpack. Maybe dating Zane was out of the question, but that didn’t make me eager to jump into plans with any of the other guys at school. I had more important things to do. “They’ve got me working overtime on set. I’ve only got two weeks left.”

  “Well, after you’re done with work, we can go,” he said with a look that held a bit of the cockiness that seemed to come prepackaged with all football players. Even Audrey’s boyfriend, Collin, had it in spades, but I still liked him.

  “Maybe.” I shrugged noncommittally. “We’ll have to see.”

  I didn’t feel bad for leaving him hanging. Erik was the type of guy who could get a date just by snapping his fingers. He didn’t need me. With a nod of his head, he headed out the door to his next class.

  Mr. Garret still sat at his desk, bowed over a stack of papers and scribbling fiercely. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so brave anymore. Haggling over my grades with the crabbiest teacher in school did not sound like a good time. Everyone else had abandoned ship. I stepped lightly, careful not to make a sound with my Tom Toms. But just as I was about to make my break for it, Mr. Garret looked up suddenly, his disapproving gaze landing squarely on me.

  “Miss Black, a word?”

  What now? I put on my best beauty queen smile and slid closer to him. No conversation with Mr. Garret had ever ended in my favor. It’d been my policy to avoid them completely. He always had a way of sucker-punching me in the gut when I least expected it. Now, it seemed I was going to have to do some scrambling if I wanted to keep my head high.

  “Listen, Mr. G, I know I sunk that quiz.” I chewed on my bottom lip as his unyielding gaze drilled into mine. “I’ll do better next time. I swear. It’s just, I’m not very good at this English stuff. You know, old dead guys and stuff. If you wanted to give a pop quiz on Riverdale or BTS, that I could ace. I swear.”

  I could tell I’d gone too far by the haughty look snapping in his eyes. He sat up straighter, spreading his hands on the desk. “Old dead guys? Young lady, William Shakespeare is not just some old guy. He was a genre unto himself. He shaped the way we entertain today. If it wasn’t for him, I doubt we’d have trash like Riverdale on our TV screens.”

  I swallowed down my burst of indignation. Riverdale wasn’t trash. It was a dark and mysterious drama that beautifully captured the desperations of teenage life. Mr. Garret would never understand.

  So instead of arguing, I nodded and took a baby step toward the door. It seemed safer than standing within range of his scowl. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time. It just doesn’t come naturally to me.”

  His brow furrowed and he laughed hollowly. “Miss Black, if you put half the effort into your literature studies as you do at painting your face with crap or making eyes at boys across the room, I’d be astonished.”

  His words hit me like a jab to the gut. I tucked my chin as the corners of my eyes burned with angry tears. He was completely out of line. And so judgey. I didn’t spend my time making eyes at boys across the room. Not all of it, anyway. And I didn’t paint my face with crap. It was my art. My own personal form of expression. But reading Hamlet was like trying to interpret another language. I didn’t get it and it was mind-numbingly boring. That wasn’t my fault.

  “I’m really trying...” I said, gulping down my tears.

  “You can’t just expect things to come naturally to you.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. His lips pursed in a condescending smirk. “You have to work for them. You should feel lucky I’m teaching you this lesson early. Once you get out into the real world, you’ll realize fast you can’t skim along on popularity and charm. You’ll fail, Miss Black, unless you find some real work ethic. Do you even have a plan for what you’re going to do after you graduate? That is—if you graduate...”

  I lifted my chin, feeling a swell of rebellion inside of me. He could talk down to me all he wanted, but that didn’t mean I had to let him get to me. “I’m going to the L Makeup Institute in Los Angeles.”

  He snorted and looked down at his papers. “Makeup school? Figures.”

  Anger unlike I’d ever felt before boiled beneath the surface. This was not a feeling I was used to having. I could let almost any bad thing roll off my shoulders, but Mr. Garret didn’t get to insult my school or my future career. Not when he didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

  “Actually, it’s a highly respected institute,” I said, taking a step toward him. My voice quivered with emotion. “Anyone would be lucky to get in. There are Oscar winners who went to that school.”

  “Whatever you say.” Mr. Garret flicked his hand in my direction, not looking up from his papers. “Just pass your quiz next week with flying colors or not even this makeup school will take you. Understand me?”

  “Oh, I’ll pass it,” I said, not bothering to wait for a verbal dismissal to head for the door. Mr. Garret had written me off the first time I stepped into his class. He didn’t get to treat me like that.

  Once I was in the hall, I didn’t stop until I’d made it to my locker and yanked it open. Thankfully, Charlotte and Beth hadn’t waited for me. Their next class was on the other side of the school. Sticking my head behind the door, I allowed myself ten seconds to silently sob while hidden from the rest of the student body.

  This wasn’t me. I was perky Lexi. The girl who let everything slide right off her back. Teachers like Mr. Garret didn’t get to me. Bosses like Alanis Nori didn’t get to me.

  And boys like Zane didn’t get to me.

  This was starting to feel like a school year in another dimension. Something was off about it. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was definitely wrong.

  With a grunt, I grabbed the compress I kept on my top locker shelf for emergencies like this. All it took was a quick look in my locker mirror to see that my mascara had run, creating streaks down my cheeks. With a few pats of the applicator, all emotional outbursts were erased. My complexion was perfectly dewy once again. If only all of my problems could be solved like foundation smoothed over a face.

  Just like the scars on my cheeks, I wouldn’t let them know they got to me. I couldn’t. Not when I had so much to work for.

  I’d show Mr. Garret. And Alanis.

  I was so much more than they expected.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I’m just saying, maybe I need a little exposure therapy so I’m not so tongue-tied whenever he comes around.”

  I stuffed a soggy cafeteria fry into my mouth and bit down. The noise of the cafeteria around me felt like it was reacting to my excitement. I’d long since recovered from my experience with Mr. Garret this morning. The fire was still there, simmering deep inside of me
, but I was no longer raging mad on the outside. That’s what an hour of painting in art class could do for a girl.

  And now, my mind was solidly back on boys. Namely, Zane Rees. Fighting my attraction to him seemed like a losing battle, so I was throwing out alternative options, but my friends sitting across from me were having none of it.

  “I thought you said he couldn’t date.” Charlotte paused from opening her milk carton and shot me a concerned expression. “That it was in his contract?”

  “Yeah, but it’s only for two weeks more. Maybe we’ve gone at this the wrong way. Maybe I just need to give in and date him in secret. Then, it won’t be so hard to be around him. I’d be used to it. It’s like exposure therapy. I mean, what kind of problems could we cause in that short amount of time?”

  “A lot.” Beth had one earphone in and was listening to music as we stuffed in our food before the next bell. “I’m thinking both of you could get fired.”

  “Puhleeze.” I waved at her. “He can’t get fired from the movie. He’s the star. And we wouldn’t get caught. It’s brilliant, right?”

  I’d been thinking it over in my head. During the call last night with Zane, we’d spent an hour just talking about nothing, wishing that we didn’t have this stupid contract standing between us. Things with Alanis were finally starting to work out. Why couldn’t I have the boy, too?

  Maybe resisting the tug in my tummy around him wasn’t the right thing to do. Maybe, the best thing to do was give in.

  Despite what Charlotte and Beth thought, I really didn’t want to get him in trouble. And I didn’t want to ruin my hopes at having a career in Hollywood. But the temptation was real. Zane was so perfect. It was like someone had set a freshly baked sugar cookie in front of my nose and ordered me not to taste it.