“Hale.” The guy nodded and fell in step beside me. “I just met you at lunch. Brian. You know, Ashley’s friend. You got a minute?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said.
“That’s cool. I, uh, wanted to ask you about a girl. Tessa Martin,” Brian mumbled. “I mean, I heard you two are friends, right?”
“Tessa? Yeah, we’re friends,” I said, doing a double take over to Brian. “Whoa, you like Tessa?”
“Maybe.” Brian shrugged, his gaze straight forward. “I mean, she’s nice.”
I stopped walking and turned to look at Brian, who’d stopped when I had, his head moving like it was on a swivel, looking around. Was he making sure none of his clique was near enough to hear?
“Brian, Tessa’s one of the best girls I know. But you have to understand; she’s not like those girls back in there—so you’d better think before you start something.”
“I have. A lot. She was my lab partner in biology last year,” Brian said. “I know she’s different, and honestly, that’s what I like about her.”
“Really? So, what? You want me to put in a good word for you?” I asked. My gut reaction to the idea was to hope she said no. But that didn’t feel right. Just because Brian had crappy timing for my plan didn’t mean it was crappy timing for Tessa.
“Exactly. If you could mention me and ask if it’s okay to get her phone number to call her, maybe,”—Brian fidgeted with the strap of his backpack—“I’d appreciate it.”
“I guess I can do that.” I’d also ask my lacrosse friends if they knew Brian before I did. If it turned out he was good enough for Tessa, it would be interesting to see how Tessa reacted. Especially after the hard time she gave me about dating someone from the “in” crowd. “I’ll let you know what she says.”
“Thanks,” Brian said, and then he turned to head back toward the cafeteria but paused and swung back. “Hey, watch out for Trey. He and Ashley were an item until she broke up with him last week. Now that it looks like you’re the reason they broke up, you’re enemy number one in his book. So, watch your back.”
“Gotcha,” I said. “Thanks for the heads up.”
I swung by Mrs. Gentry’s office. It turned out that she was researching lacrosse and wanted to know the difference between a loose ball push vs. a push with possession. I was happy to explain and thanked her for taking an interest. It felt like progress.
I had lots of plans with a lot of moving parts these days. The key would be figuring out how to keep them from crashing together and bringing my senior year down around me. The plans (so far!):
My plan to get the girl of my dreams to see me differently
Our lacrosse team’s plan to get the students to support us
Tessa’s plan to promote the heck out of our team
The plan Cody and I had to make the most of our senior year
The unspoken plan to get Tessa back into our trio
Aaand now a plan to avoid any nefarious plan Trey was orchestrating
I liked plans. I really did. But I had a strong urge to shove all the plans out of my head and forget everything for just a few hours. I wasn’t scheduled to work after school, so I planned to put in a long workout before our band practice. (Another plan! I think it’s a sickness.) A loud, mind-numbing band practice sounded exactly like what I needed.
Now I just had to make it through U.S. government class. I was trying to pay attention but not succeeding. Mr. Lake liked to repeat himself in triplicate. His lectures droned on and on. My mind wandered as Mr. Lake talked about legislature, legislature, legislature. First, I thought about some of the kids in Ashley’s crowd, but it only made me itchy. So, I focused on band practice, running a list of songs through my head to add to our repertoire.
I’d narrowed it down to “Lucky” by Jason Mraz or “Shiver” by Coldplay.
I sent out a text message to the band.
Me: Don’t forget practice @ 7.
Cody: Rock on, Wayward son!
Mikey: thumbs up emoji
Rhys: It’s on my calendar.
I did add one little thing onto the text to Tessa, though.
Me: I know who licks u.
I didn’t expect her to respond since it was against the school rules, and Tessa was a rule-follower, but it would drive her crazy all through the last period. What were friends for, right?
12
Tessa
Spencer’s garage door was already wide open when I arrived for band practice. I may not have been to a practice in months, but having hung out at his house for years, it felt familiar, like a second home.
It looked like I was the first one to show up for practice, so I went to the garage refrigerator and helped myself to a bottle of water. I turned on the radio before plopping on the old purple denim couch in the corner. I set down my camera (I was hoping to snap a few candid shots for the campaign) and picked up my guitar, strumming it to the song on the radio until I heard the door behind me open.
My hand froze over the strings, and I turned and watched Spencer come inside, wearing his Dave Matthews Band T-shirt (Spencer 1.0 still lived!) and a wide grin. Oh, yeah. He knew his text would bug me.
“You know who licks me? Who licks me? What kind of text is that?” I asked. “I couldn’t pay attention in art class because I kept having visions of some weirdo licking my cheek or the palm of my hand like some perky puppy. Ugh. So gross. If we weren’t best friends, I’d seriously wonder if you were trying to drive me crazy this year.”
“What are you talking about?” Spencer acted clueless. Right, like he had no idea what he’d texted.
“The text you sent about band practice tonight? You don’t remember adding ‘I know who licks u’?” I frowned at him as he grabbed a protein drink from the fridge. “Licks?”
“Sorry. After the day I’ve had, I forgot about the text,” he said. “I was texting quickly before the teacher caught me. I must have garbled it. I meant to text I know who likes you. Not licks you. That would be weird.”
“Oh, someone likes me?” I asked.
“Lots of people like you, dummy.” He threw himself onto the couch next to me, opened his drink, and guzzled half of it down. “But this guy, apparently, really likes you.”
“Really likes me? Do I know him?” I tried to think of some of the guys we both knew but didn’t come up with any that acted as if they liked me. As in romantically. I had a lot of guy friends. “Is he nice?”
“His name is Brian. I met him at lunch today, so I don’t know his last name, but”— Spencer sent me a side-eye look—“he’s one of Ashley’s friends.”
“Oh.” My interest fell faster than the soufflé Lexie and I attempted in class last week. So not a fan of Ashley and her crowd. “Huh. The name doesn’t ring a bell. How does he know me?”
“He said he was your lab partner last year.”
“Brian Muldowny?” Okay, interest piqued again. I raised an eyebrow at Spencer. “Brian Muldowny, the football player, said he likes me?”
“That’s what he said. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yes. Maybe.” I hadn’t known he was in Ashley’s group of friends, though. “He’s cute, and nice, and smart enough to hold a conversation.”
“Isn’t it funny how guys never worry about the last item? Smart enough to hold a conversation? Like we care,” Spencer said, grinning.
Oh, yeah. My best friend knew just which buttons to push to get a rise out of me.
“So you’re saying guys are shallow?” I asked.
“Sadly, sometimes,” he agreed. “But we can think deep thoughts if we have to. Or, we simply fake it.”
“Haha. Well, Brian and I had some deep conversations over the Bunsen burner.” I tapped Spencer on the leg with my half-full water bottle. “So there.”
“He’s in the snobby popular crowd.” He kept his gaze on me while he downed the rest of his drink before tossing it through the air into the small trash can by the door. “I mean, weren’t you just lecturing me about this? Yea
h, I think you were.”
“This is different, and you know it,” I said. “This is someone who likes me for who I am—not someone I have to change for.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” The teasing smile slid from his face, and he darted a careful look at me. “Maybe this is nothing, but I think you should know . . . he waited until no one in his crowd was around before he asked me about you.”
“Oh.” This one minute of conversation was like a roller coaster ride. And I was back down in a dip again. “No. That’s good to know. Thanks.”
“Hey, if he was your lab partner last year, then you’re right about him getting to know you. He’s seen your many different looks, right?”
Right. I had a lot of looks. My golden age of Hollywood outfits, my funky outfits from the fifties, sixties, and seventies. Then there were my goth outfits for those angsty moods, my finds from military clothing stores, and so many more. Not to mention the rainbow of colors I had dyed my hair. Sure, I wore jeans and T-shirts too, but not that often.
“What did he say when you went through your cowgirl phase last year?”
“He asked me if it was spirit week.” The memory felt like a bucket of cold water tossed onto my glow of excitement, killing it.
“Oh. What about when you went through your funky hat phase?” he asked, sounding sweetly desperate for this to work out.
“Uh, he asked me if I was hiding a bad haircut,” I said. “Thanks for trying, but thinking about it, I don’t see that he could appreciate me.”
“He wanted to know if he can have your number to call you,” Spencer said. His gaze dropped down to his sneakers before lifting back up to mine. “Do you think you’ll give him a chance?”
“I don’t know.” I bit my lip as the doubt swirled in my stomach. It was one thing to take a risk—which I still couldn’t do well—but it was another thing to take a dumb risk. And that’s what this felt like. “I’ll think about it.”
Honestly, the cute guy from math who sent me flirty grins while he played Battleship on his phone during class seemed like a safer bet than one of Ashley’s friends. Dirk and I had even exchanged phone numbers at the beginning of the semester and texted a little about homework.
“Fair enough.”
“Have you thought about this year’s Halloween costumes?” I gave him the eagle eye since this wasn’t the first time I’d asked him or Cody. In order from fourth grade last year, our costumes were as follows:
Peanut butter, jelly & bread
Rock, paper, scissors
The Three Musketeers
Pokémon characters
Woody, Buzz, & Jessie
Scooby, Shaggy, & Velma
Harry, Hermione & Ron
Ghostbusters
“What are the choices again?” He laughed because this happened every year since our mom’s stopped planning them for us sometime in middle school.
“I went for variety this year. Our choices are characters from Little Orphan Annie—”
“Please tell me you’d be Annie.”
“Confirmed. Lord of the Rings, the Founding Fathers, or the Golden Girls.”
“This is a tough choice. Ben Franklin or Legolas? Daddy Warbucks or Dorothy Zbornak?” He scratched his head. “Let me think about it, but I think you can take the Golden Girls off the list.”
“Haha, fine.” I’d bought all the costumes last year when the local theater went under and sold off all their costumes and props, but a couple of them needed some mending and sprucing up. “If you and Cody keep putting it off, I’ll just put the choices in a hat and draw one.”
“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
“I guess your lunch date with Ashley went okay then?” Why did I ask? Because I’m a masochist, that was why.
“Yeah, I guess it went okay.” Spencer scratched his head, and his face scrunched with confusion.
“You guess?” I tilted my head and raised one eyebrow at him but kept playing my guitar lightly.
“I mean—if you think this means it went okay . . .” Spencer rolled his shirt sleeve up to his elbow and shoved his forearm in front of my face. “What do you think of my chances now?”
My hand froze on the strings, and I grabbed his arm to look. “Ashley’s number, I presume? Because if this is her way of marking you, let her know most cattle ranchers still prefer a good old-fashioned branding.”
“Such a comedian. But seriously, pretty good, right?” Spencer persisted. “It’s looking like changing things up to get a girl to notice me wasn’t such a crazy idea after all. I’ve already texted her, so she has my number, too.”
“I still think the plan stinks, but you get an A for effort,” I said, my gaze lingering on the phone number before I looked back up into his eyes.
Was it selfish of me not to like the idea of Spencer and Ashley together? There was a little flutter in my chest when I thought of losing Spencer’s friendship to Ashley. That’s all it was, right? Spencer and I were just good friends. He was always there for me, but there might come a day when Ashley took up all his time.
Then where would I be? I’d pulled back to protect myself from the confusing new feelings I had for Spencer. I’d pulled back because I wasn’t willing to mess up our friendship with my awkward crush. I figured once I got over it, things would go back to normal. But seeing Ashley’s phone number on Spencer’s arm made my heart skip a beat.
Weirdly, I got sucked back up into the black hole right in front of Spencer—and he didn’t even notice.
13
Tessa
The backfire from the street in front of Spencer’s house was just the distraction I needed to escape from the sucking sandpit of the pity party I was about to throw myself.
The rest of the guys had arrived in Mikey’s ancient, rebuilt VW bug. Or as Mikey liked to call it, his “historic” car. Mikey and his dad had found it in a junkyard freshman year, and it felt like they’d worked on it forever. Now, it was Mikey’s pride and joy, even if it still needed lots more work.
I watched Mikey and Rhys exit out the doors while Cody tumbled out from the back seat like a circus clown.
“Dudes!” Cody yelled. “Are you ready for some rock ’n’ roll?”
“Absolutely. We haven’t played all together in forever.” Mikey sent me a look. “Because someone disappeared on us.”
“Hey, I’ve been busy.” I made a face at him. “I’m sure you managed to carry on without me.”
“Sure, but it’s not the same when we aren’t all here,” he said.
“Well, I’m here tonight, so if you guys would stop talking, maybe we could play.”
We all shuffled around, grabbed up our instruments, and took our places. Cody on drums, Rhys on keyboard and synthesizer, and Mikey played rhythm guitar. Spencer sang lead vocals and played lead guitar, and I sang duets and backups and sometimes played acoustic guitar. Spencer must have tuned my guitar earlier because it was perfect, even though I hadn’t been here to play in a couple of months.
“How about we start with the Counting Crows ‘Accidentally in Love’?” Spencer suggested. The song suited Spencer’s voice perfectly. “And a one, two. One, two, three . . .”
Cody hit his drumsticks together over his head three times to get us started, and it only took a few notes for me to know how much I’d missed this.
It had been too long since we’d played together. Yeah, you could say there was a definite flying-high feeling in the air. It felt great to be back playing together. I added an impromptu little riff—just my way to celebrate all of us making music together. Spencer and Cody sent me wide smiles. Cody finished the song out with a wild, heart-pounding drum solo.
“That felt great,” Spencer said. “The perfect way to end an absolutely crazy day.”
“Crazy? I heard a crazy story about you and Lexie the other day, Tessa.” Rhys snickered. “Is it true?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I turned my eyes to the ceiling, makin
g everyone laugh. “But I really hope something else comes along so people can stop talking about it. Like an alien invasion would be nice right about now.”
“I’m pretty sure we need the details, Tess,” Spencer teased.
“Oh, heck no. I like that you guys don’t treat me any differently because I’m a girl, but you do not want to go there. That story never happened. I might wear dresses now, but I have enough tomboy in me”—I sent Spencer an arched look and tapped my finger against my nose twice, reminding him of the time I’d bloodied his nose in elementary school—“to make you regret it.”
“Now that you mention it, I don’t recall a story about Tessa,” he said, sending me a wink. Smart guy. “And I’d suggest we drop it unless we want Tessa to disappear from practice again.”
“A wise suggestion,” I said, glaring at each of the guys, daring them to bring up my most embarrassing story to date.
“Okaaay, moving on. I did hear that Spencer hooked up with Ashley Marks,” Mikey said. “That’s pretty close to the alien invasion, don’t you think?”
“Hey, now. Do you guys seriously think I’d hook up with a girl . . . at school? My mother raised me better than that. Besides, that would be a jerk move. But . . .” Spencer paused for dramatic effect. “Ashley did give me something.”
Oh, man. I rolled my eyes, having already seen this trick.
He pulled back his sleeve with the flourish of a magician, holding his forearm up on display.
I smiled at the shrill whistles and hoots that filled the garage. Cody wrapped it up with a ba-da-boom on the drums while Rhys added a synthesized cymbal crash and cowbell on his keyboard.
Spencer flung his arms out wide and yelled, “Who’s the man with the plan?”
I shouldn’t have doubted Spencer. When he wanted something, he threw himself heart and soul into it. I took in a big breath and pushed all thoughts of Spencer and Ashley aside.
My Totally Off-Limits Best Friend: A YA Sweet Romance (Sweet Mountain High, Year 2: A Sweet YA Romance Series) Page 6
