by Emily Lowry
“You just are not the type.”
“I’m not the type? I’m not the type to what? Have boys be attracted to me?”
“Of course that’s not what I meant, Nina,” Mom said. “You’re just busy. You have school, you have your friends, you have band. You don’t have time for boys. That’s why I’m helping you out with Edward Stewart.”
“I could have time for boys,” I grumbled.
“I’ll tell you what — if you find yourself a date for Christmas Eve, you won’t have to kiss Edward Stewart.” Mom smiled again.
“Just a date?” I asked. A date wouldn’t be a problem. I was sure I could sucker some guy into hanging out with my crazy family for a night. The fact that it would be Christmas Eve made it a little more difficult, but not impossible.
Unfortunately, my mom read my mind. She shook her head. “Not just a date. A boyfriend. A real boyfriend.”
“What if I already have a boyfriend?”
My manicurist snickered. Traitor.
Mom didn’t quite laugh, but the corner of her lips curled into a smile of laughter held back. “I’m quite sure you don’t already have a boyfriend.”
“How could you possibly know that?” I said. As close as I was with my mom, I liked to keep parts of my life private. I even kept Zoe’s relationship with Mason from her until it was official.
My mom looked at me conspiratorially. “Because I have eyes everywhere.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure you do.”
Mom shrugged. “Neen, if you had a boyfriend, someone in the family would’ve seen you two around Beachbreak. Your aunt, your uncle, maybe your grandma. We all live in this small little suburban town, and not one of us has seen you with anything resembling a boyfriend. We haven’t seen you on a date, we haven’t seen you hold hands, we haven’t even really seen you alone with a boy.”
“If I knew I was being spied on, I would’ve made more of an effort,” I said. My manicurist was finally applying the topcoat to my nails. Which meant I would be out of here soon, thank goodness.
Mom laughed. “You’re not being spied on. It’s just part of a relationship — if you loved someone, even if you just liked them, we would know. We would see it all over Beachbreak.”
“Well then. Maybe me and my imaginary boyfriend will be more provocative over the next two months.”
Mom grinned. “Turn that imaginary boyfriend into a real one and you won’t have to worry about Edward Stewart.”
That was something to think about, wasn’t it? It didn’t seem likely that I could find a real boyfriend in the next two months — not one who is serious enough to want to spend Christmas Eve at my house.
But maybe, just maybe, I didn’t need a real boyfriend.
Maybe a fake one would do.
6
Tyler
Beachbreak High had an outdoor cafeteria. Great most of the year in sunny Southern California, not so great in the cooler stretch from November to January. A chilly breeze carried off the ocean, sweeping beneath the pergola and between the stone benches and tables. A pair of squawking seagulls fought over the spilled fries of an unfortunate freshman.
I wandered between tables, carrying a tray of pepperoni pizza and loaded nachos that would nicely fill the gap in my rumbling stomach. Or, at least, so I hoped. I was never really full. Mom and Zoe frequently joked that they needed a separate refrigerator where they could store food that I wouldn’t find. You know, the kind of food they liked. The kind of food they didn’t want me to eat.
It had only been a handful of days since Parker had dumped me — or I had dumped her, I still really wasn’t sure what happened — but so far, there’d been no signs of revenge from her court. No passive-aggressive notes slipped inside my locker, no withering glares from across the hallway, not even a damaging rumor whispered between classmates.
It was like she’d forgotten about me completely.
I looked across the cafeteria, and I saw what could’ve been the reason for Parker’s sudden absence of interest —
Chad Francis stood next to Parker. Chad had his heart set on being the next great tennis pro, and from what I’d heard, he was pretty good. But, from what I’d seen, it had gone directly to his ego.
He had blond hair that he slicked back with gel, and when he walked around, he tilted his chin up so he could look down his nose at everyone. The few times I’d spoken with Chad, it felt like I was talking to someone who found a thesaurus under his bed and was using the words in it to prove that he was better than you.
Parker leaned into Chad and fluttered her eyelashes.
He blushed and almost dropped his tennis racket.
I snickered — Parker could have that effect on the unprepared. She was cold and cruel, but she was also a master of body language. She knew just how to pose to get the most attention possible. And she used that knowledge like a weapon.
She intertwined her fingers with his, then stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
He grinned like he had just won Wimbledon, said something, then left. Parker took a seat at the table, alone for once.
Even after he left, she was still smiling wistfully.
That was interesting, I thought. Chad was gone, but she was still putting on a show. Or maybe it wasn’t a show. Maybe she actually liked him. At homecoming, Chad had asked to cut in on one of our dances. I let him, because why not, but maybe something had started to develop.
Hopefully. If Parker was focused on a new relationship, that meant she couldn’t be focused on destroying me. I would just have to keep my head down and try not to be noticed.
Unfortunately, at that exact moment, Parker looked up.
Her sapphire eyes met mine — cold, hard and shiny — and her smile disappeared.
It felt like I was soaking in an ice bath.
What was I supposed to do now? Show submission and look away? Go over and talk to her? I decided on what I thought was the mature, adult approach. I crossed the cafeteria and greeted her with a friendly nod.
Scowling, Parker looked up at me. “What do you want?”
“To apologize,” I said.
Something flickered behind her eyes. Something like hope. But was it the hope of a girl who desperately wanted an apology, or was it the hope of a predator waiting for her prey to show its vulnerability?
Parker waited. “Go on. Apologize.”
“I’m sorry I was late taking you to homecoming,” I said. And I meant it, too. I knew how important homecoming was for Parker, and by being late without texting her in advance, I’d caused her a lot of stress. “I should’ve texted you. Let you know what the situation was.”
“You should’ve let Mason set things up himself,” Parker said. “There was no reason for you to get involved in their relationship. Plus, it’s not like it’s going to last. He’ll tire of a girl like your sister—”
“Shut up, dude,” I snapped. My sister didn’t run with the popular crowd at Beachbreak High, but she was one of the nicest, smartest, kindest people I knew.
Parker’s face was like ice.
“I’ll apologize,” I said. “But I won’t stand here and let you insult my sister. Or Mason. They’re both better than that. And they’re both better than you.”
Well, this apology was going really well.
Parker gave me a glare that could petrify wood.
I returned her stare. “I hoped that I could apologize. That we could be friends. But if that’s how you feel about my sister and my friends, then there was never a chance for that. Good luck with Chad.”
“Oh please, I don’t need luck,” Parker said. “He’s obsessed with me.”
“I’ll see you around, Parker,” I said. This had been a disaster. A complete train wreck. I should’ve just stayed on the other side of the cafeteria. That would teach me for trying to do the mature thing. I turned to walk away.
“And don’t think I forgot, Ty,” Parker said. “What you did. How I felt. You still need to be punished. This little ap
ology act, this little ‘I still want to be friends’ thing? That doesn’t work on someone as smart as me. Exes don’t become friends. Ever. So don’t play nice thinking you can avoid the reckoning. Because it’s coming.”
“Great. I’ll start building the bomb shelter,” I said without looking back.
I realized then that it probably didn’t matter what I did. I could apologize to Parker until I was blue in the face, but as far as she was concerned, I had plunged the knife in her back. And I needed to be punished. She would get her revenge.
I sighed. It wasn’t even myself that I was worried about — I could take whatever she could dish out. But what about whoever decided to date me?
There wasn’t a person at Beachbreak High crazy enough to put themselves in Parker Vanderpost’s crosshairs.
7
Nina
I was eating lunch in Beachbreak High’s cafeteria, alone. Zoe was off with Mason, Callie had skipped school to go surfing, and Kenzie had lunchtime debate club.
Outside of my three best friends, I had little options for people to eat lunch with. So I sat alone, looking around the cafeteria, hoping to see someone I knew well enough to join.
And that’s when I saw the train wreck happen.
Tyler made his way through the stone tables and met up with Parker, sitting at a center table like a queen on a throne. They exchanged words, and from my perspective, it didn’t look like it had gone well. Tyler shook his head and walked away while Parker glared daggers into his back.
I knew they had broken up, and I knew from experience that any breakup with Parker — even just a friendship — put you on her blacklist. Permanently.
I waved Tyler down. “How was that for you?”
Tyler stopped and stared at me blankly, for a moment looking just like Zoe. My best friend and her brother looked nothing alike except for their identical bright green eyes, but sometimes, just sometimes, you’d see them make expressions that made it very obvious they shared the same DNA.
“Tyler?”
The blank look disappeared from his face. He set down his tray and sat on the bench across from me. He stretched and ran his hands through his hair, still looking fairly relaxed despite his encounter with the she-demon that was Parker Vanderpost.
“Exes,” Tyler said. “Try not to ever get one. Especially not one like her.”
That should be easy — to get an ex, I’d actually have to date a boy first.
“If I know Parker, I’d say she’s not through with you just yet,” I said.
Tyler looked over his shoulder to see Parker making her way towards us. He sighed. “I tried to do the mature thing. But…”
“Believe me — I get it,” I said. Honestly, I wasn’t too surprised Tyler and Parker had broken up. What I was surprised about was that they’d dated in the first place — as people, they were opposites.
“Tyler Walsh, sitting with Nina Martinez? Adorable. It’s like the island of misfit toys,” Parker said, leaning over the table. Her glossy copper hair fell in a curtain around her as she turned to me, a vicious smile on her face. “Not that you would know, Nina, but the thing about being on top of the food chain is that when you’re done with something, you get to watch everyone else pick over the scraps. You know I only broke up with Tyler two days ago, right? And you’re already being a vulture.”
I said nothing. I’d learned from experience that there was nothing you could say to Parker to make things better. Best-case scenario, you came up with a witty comeback. In which case she would target you and make your life a nightmare for the rest of the school year.
But, even if I was committed to saying nothing, I wasn’t backing down. I smiled sweetly at Parker and fluttered my eyelashes. She wanted to get a rise out of me, to see me get angry. The surest way to beat her was to return anger with happiness.
Parker scowled. “Look at you. Too dumb to even understand the words coming out of my mouth. Ironically, that makes you perfect for Tyler. Though I’m surprised he would fall so far as to date you.”
She said the word “you” like it was a bitter, foul thing that had gotten stuck between her teeth.
Anger rose in my stomach. Words boiled in my throat, and I was about to release a torrent of regrets on Parker when Tyler cut in.
“I’d say it’s more of an upgrade,” Tyler said. He looked at Parker evenly. “Nina is the best. Any guy at Beachbreak would be lucky to date her.”
Parker scoffed. “And how much did she pay you to say that?”
“Less than you paid for your nose job.”
If glares could kill, Tyler would be six feet underground.
Parker enunciated her words very carefully. “I. Had. A. Deviated. Septum.”
I snorted.
“Whatever,” Parker said. “You’re not worth my time. Neither of you are.”
With a flourish, she whipped her hair over her shoulder and left.
Tyler exhaled. “Sorry about her.”
“You don’t have to apologize for Parker.” I waved his apology away. “Her and I go way back. Way, way back. If anything, this entire scene was more about me than you.”
Tyler smiled. “Maybe we really are a pair of misfits.”
“You’re hardly a misfit,” I said. Tyler was a hot, popular senior and one of the school’s star football players. He was just being nice, as usual.
He wrinkled his brow. “Neither are you, Nina.”
I’d been so busy focusing on Parker that I hadn’t really processed what Tyler had said to her: I was the best. Any guy at Beachbreak would be lucky to date me.
The words were sweet as melted chocolate on a strawberry. I cleared my throat and tried to calm the heat rising to my cheeks. “Thanks, by the way. For saying I was, you know, dateable.”
Tyler chuckled. “Easy thing to say — you’re super dateable.”
“Stop it,” I said, not at all wanting him to stop. I was pretty sure my face was beet red at this point. “If I’m so dateable, why do you think my mom stuck me with Edward Stewart?”
Tyler raised his eyebrows. “Edward who?”
“You know my mom’s annual Christmas Eve party?”
“Zoe’s told me about it.”
“Every year, we have this big picture at the end of the party. We get all the couples in one place and we stand under a row of mistletoes. All at once, we kiss. Well, this year, my mom has decided that I have to rid myself of my old maid status.”
“Ah,” Tyler said. “She wants to set you up with a handsome young gentleman.”
“He is not handsome,” I said way too loudly. A few people looked at us. I lowered my voice. “So, he has this mole…”
Tyler laughed. “Why is she so desperate to set you up?”
“No idea — she’s never pushed this hard before. She says she just wants me to spend some time with him, but I know where she wants that to lead. Apparently, she thinks that as I’ve never been kissed, this is the perfect time.” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“You’ve never been kissed?” Tyler leaned back in his chair and studied me carefully. His expression was unreadable.
“Never mind. It’s my problem, I’ll figure it out.”
Tyler was smart, and Tyler was a gentleman, so he didn’t push the issue. He didn’t tease me for my accidental confession, nor did he bring it up again.
Instead, he sipped his drink. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I meant what I said — any guy would be lucky to date you.”
“Thank you,” I said. If Tyler kept complimenting me, I wondered whether my cheeks would literally light on fire or if they’d just stay stop sign red? To avoid spontaneous combustion, I moved the conversation to a different area. “What about you? What are you going to do about Parker?”
“Dude, that’s the million-dollar question,” Tyler said. He fumbled with his napkin. He had this amazing quality where he could look handsome and boyish all at once. “When we broke up, she made a threat.”
“Yeah, sh
e does that.”
“She said that she was going to destroy my next relationship.”
“Wow.”
“Wow,” Tyler agreed. “So, if you ever thought you were undateable — keep in mind you’re looking at Mr. Undateable. There’s not a girl in the world who is going to put herself in Parker’s line of fire. She runs this stupid school. And I was the idiot who was stupid enough to get involved with her.”
Before I could respond, the lunch bell rang. We said our goodbyes and parted.
I watched Tyler leave, his tall, broad frame headed back inside. So, Parker was coming for him. From personal experience, I knew how intense that could be. And he was probably right — once word got out that Parker would destroy whoever dated him next, he really would be undateable.
Which was incredibly sad, because if there’s one guy who deserved an amazing girl, it was Tyler.
8
Tyler
It was the end of another long day at school. I walked to the parking lot with Amber Bateman, Beachbreak’s sports reporter.
Despite only being sixteen, Amber was already a consummate professional for the school paper. Her pale hair was razor straight, her makeup perfectly done. She was telling me how she was currently working on perfecting her on-camera laugh for when she became a news anchor in Chicago.
“Ready? Watch.” Amber glanced to her side and laughed, flashing her perfect white teeth.
“Completely convincing,” I said.
“Really?”
“I would’ve fallen for it.”
“Awesome.” She pulled out her phone. “Okay. I’ll see you around. I’ve got a few interviews lined up, and, if you can believe it — a hot date.”
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
Amber winked. “I don’t kiss and tell. I’ll see you around, Ty.”
“Later, dude.”
I headed to my car.
Nina was standing awkwardly next to it, her thumbs looped in the straps of her backpack. She shifted her weight from her heels to her toes, and when she saw me, she smiled.
