As the team rushed into the locker room, the excitement in the air was palpable.
“Way to get it done tonight.” Coach Offredi grinned. Even his mustache looked happier. “You should all be proud.”
Lucy lingered in the doorway. After all, it was the boys’ locker room.
Ryan pushed her in. “Malone, you’re on the team. Get in here. No one’s naked.” He placed a hand on her back, ushering her in. Benji noticed.
A shirtless Tank howled in the background, pleased with himself. “Well, almost no one.” Ryan smiled, his hand resting on the small of her back. “You did great tonight.” Lucy prayed his hand would linger there for a few more seconds.
Coach Offredi clapped his hands loudly and Ryan moved to take a seat on the bench. “Great passing game, great defense—that was a hell of an effort out there tonight, men.”
Lucy grimaced. Men?
Coach Offredi ahemed and corrected himself. “I mean, people.” A small smile crept across Lucy’s face.
The coach grabbed a football off the ground, from next to his feet. The guys cheered. Lucy glanced around anxiously, not knowing what to expect.
“And the MVP ball goes to . . .” Coach Offredi paused dramatically. The room settled down and grew quiet. “Who else?” He tossed the ball to Ryan, who caught it in his lap. He held it up in celebration.
“To our season,” Ryan said. “To victory.” The entire team, including Lucy, cheered wildly.
twelve
The hot water felt like liquid heaven as it rushed over Lucy’s entire body. Wearing flip-flops and a bikini (no way she was getting naked), she scrubbed all the sweat, dirt, and anxiety off her. The girls’ locker room shower wasn’t as great as the one at home—which was marble, and had a rain nozzle—but it felt just as good. Better, in fact. She turned off the faucet and grabbed the towel she’d thankfully remembered to pack in her athletic bag. Wrapping herself in it, she padded out toward the lockers, leaving a trail of wet, soapy footprints behind her.
The cheerleaders were mid-transformation from their uniforms into party attire. As soon as they saw Lucy, they applauded. Lucy beamed, surprised. Regan turned and smiled.
“You were seriously amazing tonight,” she gushed. “Did you notice how Ryan was cheering you on?”
He was? Lucy beamed.
“Seriously,” she continued. “You kicked farther than any of the boys ever did.”
“Yeah,” a beautiful brunette agreed. “And you looked like one of them, too.” Lucy stared at the girl, confused at this out-of-the-blue insult.
“Um . . .” Lucy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know this girl.
Regan realized, jumping in. “Oh, Lucy.This is Kendall. She’s having the party tonight.” Regan quickly turned to Kendall, worried. “I invited Lucy. That’s okay, right? I mean, technically she’s part of the football team—”
Kendall shrugged as if she could care less. “Whatever.” Regan forced a polite smile to Lucy, who was standing in front of all these new girls feeling suddenly self-conscious. She felt as though Kendall could see right through her.
“I’m just going to—um—put some clothes on,” Lucy said hurriedly, as she padded on wet feet to her locker. Rifling through her athletic bag, she pulled out a pair of jeans and a long shirt with an empire waist to wear over them. She liked the dress/jeans combo. In fact, she’d seen Regan sport it a few times, so it must have been cool enough for Malibu.
Regan followed her over. “Sorry about that. Kendall can be a little intimidating to new people,” she explained. “But she’s really great and super popular. If you’re friends with her, your life is infinitely easier at this school.”
Lucy nodded agreeably. “Okay.”
“So you’re still gonna come, right?” Regan pressed. “To the party?”
“Let’s go, bitches,” Kendall called. “Train’s rolling out.”
Lucy was surprised. First, bitches? Second, was Kendall actually talking to her?
“She calls everyone that,” Regan explained. “It’s a term of endearment.”
I bet, Lucy thought.
“Hurry up,” Regan urged. “Let’s go.” Lucy grabbed her stuff, excitedly—and then she suddenly remembered something. Pickle had said she and the girls wanted to celebrate after the game too. She’d become so wrapped up with the cheerleaders’ attention, she’d totally forgotten. Lucy tried to stay calm, but this was obviously a crisis situation. It was one step away from requiring canned goods, a flashlight, and a transistor radio. Lucy told herself to speak.
“Um . . . I just . . . I actually was supposed to . . . actually, I forgot. . . .” Okay, get ahold of yourself, she thought. “Could I just finish getting ready really quick and meet you at your car?”
Annoyed, Kendall called out, “Regan, you’re taking too long. I’m getting a ride from Ryan. Just meet me there.”
Regan turned to Lucy. “Sure, just hurry.” She took off, nipping at Kendall’s heels. “K! Wait up! I can take you!” Lucy had a feeling Regan did a lot of following after Kendall.
Lucy quickly stuffed her uniform and wet towel into her bag and fished around for her lip gloss. She’d forgotten deodorant and perfume. Oh well. Lip gloss would have to be enough. She pressed her lips together, then bolted out of the locker room to find her friends. Pickle, Charlie, and Max were gathered in the parking lot. They cheered when they saw Lucy.
“You were awesome out there!” Max beamed, jumping up and down.
Charlie agreed. “So cool, Lucy. Carla said to tell you congrats. She had to go.”
“Oh, thanks.” Lucy smiled as she approached. Pickle gave her a warm hug.
“So, where to, superstar?” Pickle asked. “It’s your celebration dinner, so you decide where.”
Lucy gulped. This was where things got complicated.
“I actually already ate dinner,” she admitted. “At Sizzler.”
Max cringed. “Ew. I didn’t know people actually went there.”
“Yeah, so I’m not really hungry,” Lucy said. “But there’s this party—it’s kind of for all the football players and stuff. I was thinking maybe we could all go. And you know, maybe celebrate there.”
Pickle’s face lit up. “A football party? Really? Oh my God—we could go?” A wave of relief washed over Lucy. Of course Pickle would be excited to go to a football party.
Lucy smiled. “Yeah, this time I can get us in without Benji. But I think he’ll be there too.”
Max smiled. “That’s cool. I’m down.” All three girls looked at Charlie, who shifted uncomfortably in her Converse. “A football party? Are you serious?”
“Lucy!” Regan shouted from across the parking lot. “Are you coming or what?”
A look of horror spread across Charlie’s face. “Did Regan Holder invite you?” she asked pointedly.
“Regan? No,” Lucy lied. “She just said she’d drive me. Since, ya know, I’m on the team and all.”
Charlie shook her head. “Well, I’m not. And either way, I wouldn’t be caught dead at a party with her.” She turned to Lucy. “And if you want your high school experience to be the least bit pleasant, you shouldn’t either.”
Pickle stepped in. “Look, Regan didn’t invite her. It’s a football party and she’s on the football team. No one here is friends with Regan Holder, that’s for sure.”
Charlie looked skeptical. Lucy looked down at her shoes. She wasn’t friends with Regan, but she had certainly been friendly.
Pickle put an arm around Lucy. “She’s cool,” Pickle said, referring to Lucy. “It’s obvious—she’s one of us.”
Suddenly, Lucy panicked. “You know what?” she said. “Let’s just forget the party and go to dinner. I barely even ate at Sizzler. I stuck, like, three breadsticks in my purse.” Lucy headed toward Charlie’s car but Pickle didn’t budge. “Pickle,” Lucy asked, “what’s wrong?”
Pickle shifted uncomfortably in her shoes and looked down at the ground.
“I really want to
go to the party,” Pickle admitted softly. “Charlie, I’m sorry.”
“I kinda do too,” Max agreed. “Sorry, Charlie.”
“Fine.” Charlie shrugged, clearly stung. “Have fun celebrating.” She hopped in her car and took off. Lucy felt both responsible for the spat and helpless to fix it.
“She’ll be okay,” Pickle said comfortingly, trying to be positive.
“But how are we going to get there?” Max asked. “She was our ride.”
Just then, Charlie peeled out, nearly running over Regan, who was standing in the middle of the school’s driveway.
“Hello?” Regan shouted at the back of Charlie’s car. “Driver’s ed? Look into it!”
Lucy considered. “Let me see if Regan will give us all a ride. . . .” She ran over to ask Regan, “Can we squeeze two more in?”
Regan raised her eyebrows as she scanned Pickle and Max up and down. A handful of cheerleaders were already piled in the back.
Regan hopped in the driver’s seat. “Sure,” she answered. “If they don’t mind the trunk.”
Fifteen minutes later, after a long and winding drive, Regan pulled up a narrow driveway and parked her SUV on the grass behind the dozens of other cars already lined up in haphazard rows. Lucy, crammed in the back with a few other cheerleaders, glanced at Pickle and Max, smashed in the way back, behind the last seat. It wasn’t exactly the trunk, but it wasn’t far from it.
Regan’s SUV lurched to a stop and all the girls piled out. Lucy opened the hatch. Pickle and Max spilled out onto the wet grass.
“Oh my God, I think my life flashed before my eyes,” Max said breathlessly.
“Good thing it wasn’t the nachos from the game,” Pickle groaned. “I thought I was going to be sick. Regan’s driving? Whoa.”
“Maybe they’ll have some ginger ale or something,” Lucy offered, hoping that would settle Pickle’s stomach.
“Yeah, maybe,” Pickle said, recomposing.
But Lucy quickly realized that ginger ale was not on the list of beverages provided. Forget the basement parties they’d had back in Ohio, where they would pass around a lone beer stolen out of Annie’s garage; this was the real deal.
Lucy took in the sight. Kendall’s place wasn’t a house—it was a mansion. Outside, the yard was sprawling, perched high on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and the infinity pool was full of little fountains and caves where the water seemed to disappear right over the edge. And inside was even better. With a step-down living room and gigantic kitchen, this house was built for parties. And Kendall was perfectly cast in the role of cute hostess, showing everyone to the provisions. “So there’s beer pong in the game room, there’s an ice luge on the patio, and the keg’s in the kitchen.”
Max looked around, stunned. Clearly, she’d never seen a party like this. None of them had. Suddenly, a familiar voice called over to Lucy.
“Malone, you made it!” Ryan said, seeing the girls. He was holding a red plastic cup. Lucy beamed as he headed over. Pickle smiled shyly and politely too.
Max gave a chin nod. “’Sup?”
He put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Superstar on the field tonight, huh?” he said proudly to Pickle and Max.
Max stuck out a hand. “I’m Max,” she said confidently.
Lucy realized that they didn’t all know each other.
“Max is on the soccer team,” Lucy explained. “So’s Pickle,” she said, gesturing to Pickle, who stood nervously frozen beside her.
“Pickle?” Ryan asked, confused.
“Wait—you guys haven’t met either?” Lucy realized.
Pickle shook her head. She seemed stunned into silence.
“What kind of name is Pickle?” he asked.
“It’s . . . um, it’s kind of . . . when I was born, my sister . . . she’s older . . .” Pickle stammered. Lucy waited for Pickle to get to the point, but she continued to stammer out a reply. “She couldn’t say . . . I mean, it’s weird because she could say, you know, much harder words. . . .”
Lucy interrupted. “It’s short for Nicole.”
Pickle smiled at her, relieved. “Right. Short for Nicole.”
“Makes sense.” Ryan thought it about it for a minute. “Sort of.”
Pickle giggled. Kendall rushed over and threw her arms around Ryan’s neck.
“There you are,” she gushed. Regan was close behind her, carrying two drinks, one for Kendall and one for herself. Ryan grabbed Kendall’s legs, literally sweeping her off her feet so that he was cradling her in his arms. Ryan jerked his body, pretending the arm under her upper back was giving out. Her body lurched toward the ground.
“Don’t drop me!” she yelled, holding onto him tighter.
“I got you,” Ryan assured her.“No one’s dropping you. I’m not Regan.” Apparently last year, in what was referred to as the Botched Basket Incident, Regan had been part of a foursome that had dropped Kendall on her tailbone.
“That was a long time ago,” Regan said defensively. “And a total accident.”
“Ryan!” Kendall screamed. At that moment, Regan wasn’t even on her radar.
Finally, Ryan set Kendall back down. “Okay, okay—stop freaking out.”
Lucy forced a smile. She couldn’t help but wish that she had been the girl that Ryan had picked up and held in his arms.
“Who needs a drink?” Ryan asked, worming his way out of Kendall’s grasp.
“I have one somewhere,” Kendall sighed, annoyed. “Regan?” Regan quickly handed a drink over to Kendall.
Lucy turned to Pickle. “You wanted a ginger ale, right?”
“Ginger ale?” Kendall scoffed. “What’re you, twelve?”
Embarrassed, Pickle shot an annoyed look at Lucy.Then she turned to Ryan. “How ’bout a beer?” she asked.
Max nudged Pickle in the side. They weren’t supposed to drink during the season. Well, technically they weren’t supposed to drink at all, but from the looks of the party, no one was really adhering to that law.
“Girls?” Ryan asked Max and Lucy. “You want anything?”
“I’m just gonna get a pop,” Lucy said.
“Pop?” Kendall laughed. Lucy remembered too late that no one in California said “pop.” It was “soda” here.
“Come on,” Regan said.“I’ll show you where everything is.”And together they went in search of soda. Moments later, they were pilfering the fridge for anything nonalcoholic.
“So, you and Kendall are, like, best friends?” Lucy asked innocently.
Regan nodded. “Yeah, totally.” She noticed bottles in the fridge. “Ew. Wine coolers? So nineties.” She found a Diet Coke and handed it to Lucy. “It’s better with rum, but whatevs.”
Lucy smiled. “Thanks.”
Regan leaned in close. “So . . . I think he likes you.”
Playing With the Boys Page 15
