by Amanda Ashby
“Um…thank you,” she said, and he turned his gaze on her. Good one, Norah. She was pretty sure when Zac flirted with someone, they flirted right back. They definitely didn’t say thank you.
Or give him a T-shirt that said Sanitation is a Right, Not a Luxury.
He continued to study her before his thick lashes brushed against the soft skin under his eyes as he gave her an apologetic smile.
“I have a bad habit of turning everything into a joke. So, how come you have a spare one?”
“They’re for the volunteers,” she admitted, burying her disappointment as she passed over the biggest T-shirt. She’d always thought raising money for good causes would make her feel…well…good. But the more she did, the more there was to do. And right now she was failing.
“Lucky for me you’re prepared.” He shrugged it on in one fluid motion. The fabric stretched across his chest, and Norah’s mouth went dry. She wasn’t sure if she’d made the problem better or worse.
Then again, he was a walking advertisement. Maybe she’d get more interest now.
Actually, that was a great idea.
“Since you’re wearing the T-shirt, you could always hand out some of these.” She willed herself to be brave as she reached for a handful of flyers that had survived the crash.
“It would be my pleasure, fair Norah, the provider of T-shirts,” he promptly replied, then swept his arm out and dropped into a deep bow. It was both ridiculous and completely over the top. Several nearby students looked over with interest, but Zac didn’t seem to notice as he plucked the flyers out of her hand, his fingers lightly skimming hers.
A blast of heat skittered along her arm so fast she whipped her hand back and cradled it.
What was that?
More importantly, had he felt it too?
She cautiously raised her gaze, but his navy eyes were narrowed, fixed firmly on someone in the distance. That was a no then. Disappointment splashed over the heat in her hand like a bucket of water.
“Hell.” He turned to her. “Er, sorry to hit and run, but I need to go.”
“S-sure,” she managed to stammer, still clutching her hand where he’d touched her, as he went sprinting off down the corridor, not seeming to notice the startled students who jumped out of the way. Whoever had snagged his attention was obviously important.
Probably Kennedy Quinn.
“Do you know Zac Mackenzie’s wearing one of your T-shirts?” Piper appeared by her side. As usual, she was wearing her favorite army jacket and her blonde hair was tipped with pink, which was at odds with her dark eyebrows and silver eyes. “How did that happen?”
“I think it was a case of wrong place, right time,” she said as she quickly filled her friend in on the surreal experience.
“Wow, you got to be up close and personal with him.” Piper, who knew all about Norah’s ongoing crush, let out a long whistle. “Was it everything you thought it would be?”
That would be a yes. With jingling bells on top.
Her hand still burned from where he’d touched her.
He was as charming and gorgeous up close as he was from a distance.
Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with her real life, and while it would be nice if he did hand out some flyers for her, she suspected he’d toss them in the trash.
She made a mental note to print more when she got home, then busied herself packing up. Besides, thinking about Zac Mackenzie was as pointless as thinking about unicorns and flying horses. He lived in a galaxy of bonfires, keg parties, and perky cheerleaders who threw soda over guys, while she lived in a world that needed saving. And right now it seemed like the only three people who cared about it were her, Piper, and Gareth.
She lowered the box to the ground and folded up the table with a snap.
There was work to be done.
2
Zac scowled as he stepped out of Cricket Bay High and marched toward the parking lot at the end of the day. The sky was bright blue, but a faint fall breeze was dragging up stray leaves and litter, sending them twirling in little eddies. It was an offshore wind, which meant the waves at the cove would be perfect. Frustration hummed in his chest, and he considered going for a surf. Except he couldn’t until he sorted this mess out.
He swallowed and increased his pace over to where Max and Pete were lounging on the hood of a souped-up Mustang.
“Ah, the man of the hour.” Pete smirked as Zac finally reached them.
“Where is he?” he growled by way of an answer. Pete’s smirk increased and Zac flexed his hands, knuckles cracking. Most days he saw the funny side of life.
Today wasn’t most days.
It had gone from bad to worse. His plan to get Kennedy to tell the truth had backfired in a spectacular fashion. Then, while he’d been talking to Norah, he’d caught sight of Myles but hadn’t been able to catch him. But his friend couldn’t hide forever. Besides, Zac wasn’t the only one benched.
“You gotta chill out.” Max punched his arm. “And what the hell is with that T-shirt?”
Zac made a growling noise at the back of his throat.
If he had a dime for every stupid comment he’d received in his last two classes, he’d be rich enough to hire a private detective to find Myles. It had given him a newfound respect for Norah Richmond. Granted, he hadn’t seen her wearing a toilet T-shirt before, but over the years she’d definitely rocked a few strange charity causes on her clothing.
Props to her for not caring how people reacted.
“Tell me where he is.” He folded his arms and glared at his two closest friends.
Pete let out a pained sigh. “Look, Zacky boy. Just ride it out. Coach isn’t going to go through with it. Last season you were an animal. You scored ten goals, had fifteen assists, and totally controlled the midfield. And Myles is his best center forward. You’re going to make things worse if you try and talk to him.”
“Worse?” Zac raised an eyebrow. Pete’s father had more money than some small countries, which meant his friend didn’t need to worry what he did after school, while Max already had a spot earmarked for him at his mom’s media company. But Zac only had one shot at getting into college and having a future.
Pete held up his hands in defeat. “He’s training on the field. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Thanks.” Zac’s mood improved, and he gave his two friends a quick fist punch. “And sorry. It’s been a crap day.”
“Yeah…I heard about Kennedy. Ouch.” Max gave a mock shudder.
He could say that again.
Zac sighed and turned toward the field.
There were practice balls to one side, and Myles was over by the nets with his personal trainer. A couple of the guys on the team worked with a P.T., but not Zac. His parents did okay, but not to the point of private lessons, and the money he earned working building jobs with his dad just about paid for gas and games.
Out of habit, he scooped up one of the balls and bounced it onto his foot then knocked it forward. He collected it with his other foot and kicked again before dribbling it through the practice markers dotted on the grass.
Some of the tension lessened as he increased his pace until he reached the net. The trainer had gone, leaving Myles standing on his own. His shoulders were tight and his hands were by his side, clenched into fists.
Not promising. Zac took a deep breath and forced his adrenaline down. Myles could be a loose cannon when he was wound up, and Zac couldn’t afford to make it worse.
“Seriously, Mackenzie?” Myles growled, his jaw flexing. “Are you so stupid you thought you’d make another play for Kennedy? In front of everyone?”
“It wasn’t like that. I was trying to…apologize to her.” It was a lie, but there wasn’t much else he could say. “And to you.”
“You think an apology’s going to cut it?”
“I want to make this right.” Zac kicked the ball at him. Myles caught it on the volley and then thumped it away. He obviously wasn’t interested in play
ing games. “I’m sorry. I wish it never happened.”
That at least wasn’t a lie.
“You should have thought of that before you tried to hit on her.”
Zac ran his hand through his hair. His fingers got caught in a glue-like substance. He’d forgotten it was gunked up with dried soda. “I get you’re pissed, but I’m not the only one benched. We need to sort this out.”
“Gladly.” Myles stepped forward, chest puffed out and jaw tight.
Blood throbbed in Zac’s temple, but he held up his hands. “Not like that. Another fight isn’t going to get us back on the team. I shouldn’t have tried to kiss her. But nothing happened. I swear. She pushed me away. Probably reminded her how much she missed you.”
“Not the point,” Myles snarled. “You think it’s okay to hit on her because we’d broken up? Get her when she was upset?”
He gritted his teeth. The easiest option would be to just tell Myles the truth. Or go to Coach and tell him. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Kennedy might have covered him in soda and managed to get him kicked off the team, but she was still his friend. They both were. And the quickest way to fix this was to shoulder the blame and wait for it to blow over.
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“What a surprise. Who are you going to try it on with next? Pete’s girlfriend?”
“No one’s dumb enough to date Pete,” Zac retorted, but Myles didn’t smile. The pounding in Zac’s chest increased. “The sooner we sort this out, the sooner we’re back on the team.”
“And the sooner you can make another play for my girlfriend.”
How many times did he have to say he wasn’t interested in Kennedy? Or in anyone. Dating in high school was as much fun as having your head kicked in. He’d tried it two years ago until he’d heard the girl in question telling a friend she had to decide between brains and beauty, and she was going for beauty.
They’d broken up the next day, because he wasn’t that dumb. He hadn’t dated since.
Which was a pity, because if he did have a girlfriend, then Kennedy wouldn’t have tried to kiss him. Myles wouldn’t have punched him. Coach wouldn’t have benched him.
He shut his eyes. What he really needed was a time machine, so he could go back and get a girlfriend. To prove to Myles he wasn’t a threat.
Wait…
His eyelids snapped open. He didn’t actually need the time machine. He just needed the girl. His mind whirled.
Why not? He’d done crazier stunts over the years. Not all of them had worked, but some had. And doing something was better than sitting by and watching his future go down the drain.
“My girlfriend might have a problem with me making a play for someone else,” he said in a calm voice.
Silence spun out between them, only broken by the shouts from a bunch of tenth graders practicing at the far end of the field.
“You have a girlfriend?” Myles growled, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his dark eyes. “Who the hell would date you?”
Very good question.
Zac peered around. Kennedy and a bunch of her friends were sitting in the bleachers, all glaring at him. Several other cheerleaders were on the other side, but he quickly dismissed them. All those girls knew each other. He doubted they could keep a secret for a hot second.
He slammed his hands into the pockets of his shorts, and his fingers hit a crunched-up piece of paper. He frowned and extracted it. There was a picture of a toilet on there. Oh, right. The flyers he’d promised to hand out. In his defense it had been that kind of day, and—
He sucked in his breath.
Norah Richmond. She was smart, sweet, and totally gorgeous. More importantly, she’d said she wasn’t dating anyone.
Bad idea.
He tapped his foot. Only a jerk would pretend someone was their fake girlfriend without asking them first. Next to him, Myles’s mouth turned into a hard line. No way was he seeing reason. Besides, Norah had already proven she was a good sport when she didn’t go all crazy on him because of the accident. This was almost the same thing.
Lie.
It was nothing like it. But if he didn’t do something, his entire future might be screwed. One, two, three…
“Can’t you guess?” Zac stretched out the T-shirt so the toilet was on full display. Because nothing said fake girlfriend like a cistern. “And let me tell you, she was not happy Kennedy went all drama queen on me. She’s protective.”
“You don’t really expect me to believe you’re dating Norah,” Myles snapped, though some of the tension in his jaw had lessened.
“What the hell does that mean?” Zac folded his arms. Sure, she didn’t run with the popular crowd. The bad T-shirt probably put a stop to that, but it hardly meant she wouldn’t make a great girlfriend. For a start, she was gorgeous. Tall with a pair of seriously hot legs, a brush of freckles that went across her nose, and when she talked about her charity, her eyes gleamed.
And she has no idea what I’m doing.
Guilt caught in his throat, but he pushed it away. Would she say yes if he volunteered to help with her toilet scheme? He could do that…not that he was quite sure what it involved…but if it got him back onto the team, then what did it matter?
“How come I didn’t know about it?” Myles rubbed his chin, still studying Zac’s face.
“Because you’ve been blocking my calls,” Zac retorted. “Look. It happened over summer. I was stuck in camp and she was back here, so it was a long-distance thing.”
“And it’s serious?”
“Hook, line, and sinker,” Zac said. It would probably be a good idea to stop talking before he got himself into an even bigger hole. “Are we good? Because if you’re happy, we could go to Coach right now. Tell him we’re cool.”
Myles grunted, but he didn’t look quite so pissed off.
It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no.
Which meant he was getting somewhere. Now he needed to keep it up. Then he winced. There was one little flaw in his brilliant plan. He still had to convince Norah to go along with it.
xxxx
“Zac, how many times have I told you not to come bursting in? What if Hudson had been here?” Via looked up from the book she’d been reading and glared at him.
“If Hudson was here, his car would be parked out front.” He flopped on his twin sister’s bed and threw one of her scatter pillows up in the air before catching it.
“That’s irrelevant,” Via said and raised an eyebrow at him. It was code for, and leave my stuff alone. He’d destroyed enough of her possessions over the years. Not on purpose. It just happened. “So, are you here for a reason or merely bored?”
He put the pillow back and rolled his shoulders. “As it happens, I do have a reason. Do you know where Norah Richmond lives?”
“Why?” Her voice was sharp as she leaned forward. They were nothing alike. She was small with brown hair and shrewd gray eyes that always seemed to know what he was thinking. It was kind of annoying.
“Do I need a reason?” He picked up a book on her side table and tapped it against his knee.
“Um, yes. Actually you do. You’ve been benched for supposedly kissing Kennedy Quinn and fighting with Myles. Shouldn’t you be trying to fix that rather than looking for someone else to flirt with?”
“Who says I’m not trying to fix it?” he said, his nostrils flaring. It shouldn’t bug him Via thought he was messing around. After all, thanks to all his flirting over summer his sister had almost broken up with Hudson.
“You’re going to have to help me out here. Why do you need Norah’s address to get back on the team?” Via stood and plucked the book out of his hands. She placed it back on the side table.
He shut his eyes. The problem with having a smart sister was it was hard to get anything past her. When they were younger, he went for practical jokes, mainly because trying to keep up with her smarts was too damn hard.
“Did you hear what happened in the cafeteria today?”
“Yeah. Sounds like you and Kennedy created quite a scene. You okay?”
Nope. Not so much.
“I want to sort this mess out.”
Originally he hadn’t told his sister about Myles and Kennedy. But it was hard to hide a black eye, and while he’d let his parents think it was a training accident, he’d finally told Via the truth.
He filled her in on his latest conversations with Coach and Myles, ending with his plan to ask Norah to be his fake girlfriend. When he’d finished, her eyes were clouded with confusion.
Not a sight he often saw.
“You’re not speaking. Should I be worried?”
“I think that’s my line,” she retorted and picked up the scatter pillow he’d discarded. She put it on her lap and leaned forward, gaze fixed firmly on him.
“I know you want back on the team, but this is a recipe for disaster. It’s like trying to put out a fire by adding an accelerant.”
“No, Miss Glass Half Empty, it’s a perfect solution. Myles won’t need to worry about me hitting on Kennedy again—”
“You didn’t hit on her in the first place. I still don’t see why you can’t tell him the truth.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Vee,” he said in an even voice. “Kennedy might be way out of line, but I’m not about to call her a liar. That’s why I need Norah’s help. It will just be for a couple of weeks until I’m back on the team.” Prickles of energy crawled along his skin, and he tapped his foot against the floor.
“You need a girlfriend, but what’s in it for her?”
“The pleasure of my company,” he promptly said as he stopped tapping his foot.
“Zac,” Via said with a hint of a growl. It was the same tone she used when trying to teach him algebra. She couldn’t understand why the numbers didn’t stick in his mind. Because he was the slow one. The one who wasn’t on the A-train to MIT.
The only thing he could do was kick a ball. A one-trick pony.
And right now he couldn’t even get that right.
“I’ll help with this auction thing. She’s crazy about toilets.”
“Actually, she’s crazy about sanitation and making sure villages in Cambodia are given access to what we consider a human right.” Via bit her lip. When they were kids he’d hated being corrected, and these days she tried not to do it. “She was telling me about her trip this morning. We’re in pre-calculus together.”
