He could keep his precious reputation. I had bigger things to worry about for my senior year at Rock Valley High.
Chapter Two
It couldn’t have been normal to wake up on the first day of school already wishing for the flu to strike me down. But there I was, standing in the bathroom with the thermometer sticking out of my mouth, staring at my pale reflection in the mirror, and begging for a fever.
I’d managed to lay low the weekend after the beach party, but now there was no way of avoiding the fallout of supposedly having made out with the notorious Collin Preston. Or, even worse, the totally real possibility that he’d spread my deepest darkest secret throughout Rock Valley High. A seventeen-year-old senior who’d never been kissed? Not exactly helpful qualities for navigating the most coveted social circles at any high school.
Not only did I need to march into that school today pretending nothing devastating had happened over the weekend, but cheerleading team tryouts were being posted. It was time to find out how deeply my cousin really hated me and if she’d go so far as to keep me out of her precious team.
But all of that pain could be cut short with one vicious case of the bubonic plague. A girl could only dream. Still, when the thermometer beeped and told me once and for all that I wasn’t dying, the last flutter of hope inside me croaked.
It was time to face the wolves.
My phone dinged and I snatched it from beside the sink. I’d already been texting Mandy and Trina this morning with my laments about blurting my secret out to Collin. They were still busy texting me off a ledge. I threw myself on my purple paisley bedspread and scanned my messages.
Trina: Don’t worry, A. We still love you. And no one’s gonna judge you.
Mandy: And if they do, I’ll kick in their shins.
Me: Thanks, guys. What would I do without you?
I sighed and flipped over to my back, staring up at the posters of various music stars on my ceiling. They acted as my muses during times of trouble. Front and center was my girl, Taylor Swift, back in her big hair and country music days. She wouldn’t let some guy like Collin Preston bother her — even if he had the most beautiful face in the history of mankind and a grin that was totally kissable. Nope. She’d put all of her worry and angst into a song. That’s exactly what I would do.
I rolled over my bed and grabbed the black Gibson Hummingbird acoustic guitar sitting in its stand. It was my most prized possession. My dad had bought me my first guitar when I was two. Granted, it was plastic and the strings made of nylon, but I swear, the heavens opened up and angels sang. He taught me how to play and on my twelfth birthday, bought me the Gibson to perfect my skills.
It had been months since we’d last played together. Before he left us. Back when we were still a family.
I ran my fingertips lovingly over the steel strings and hummed a melody that immediately popped into my head. Strumming softly, I waited for the words to arrive.
You’ve got a way of making a girl like me
Wonder if she’s wrong, but if I believe
You can’t touch me, you’re gonna see
Just how wrong you can be.
I felt the words down to my core, picturing Collin’s frustrating smirk as I paired them with the perfect chords. I hadn’t been able to get the image of him out of my mind all weekend. Or the feel of his skin against mine. The only way to banish him was to get my feelings out through melody. I might not have been the most popular girl in school, or the smartest, or the prettiest. But if there was one thing in this world that I knew I was good at, it was singing and writing songs.
It was just the thing I needed to soothe my nerves. By the time I lovingly stashed my guitar back in its stand and looked up again at my alarm clock, it was nearly time to go. I ran down the stairs of our two bedroom apartment and snatched an apple from the table. Mom and my little sister Lexi were already seated at the mini breakfast bar eating.
Mom was one of those women who legit got hit on at the grocery store by random men. I couldn’t blame them. She had legs for days underneath her tight pencil skirts and a clear complexion that she doctored tirelessly with expensive creams and Botox. Her dark hair was pulled back in a flawless French twist, her high cheekbones accentuated with just a touch of blush. She worked in the fashion world as a PR consultant and I’d heard more than once that she could make or break a model’s career with the right amount of exposure.
I kissed her good morning and inhaled the scent of her floral perfume, enjoying the way it tickled my nose. As kids, my sister and I used to sneak into our parents’ bedroom just to sniff her perfume bottle. It helped on the especially bad days, when our parents would do nothing but argue.
“So, what are you two going to accomplish today?” I asked, plopping myself onto the bar seat next to her. Ever since we were tiny, Mom would ask us the same question every morning. It had become a sort of routine for us.
“Make sure my lip gloss is popping,” Lexi said, holding up a single finger. “Snag Peter Vince as my boyfriend before Miranda Lake gets to him. And let’s not forget, survive the bus ride to school since I’m the only kid in school that doesn’t get to have her own car.”
Lexi was a sophomore and in the midst of a total hormonal rage fest — at least in my mind. She’d grown nearly three inches last summer, finally displacing me as the tallest sibling. She had the same curly brown hair and brown eyes, but somehow had managed to work them to her advantage with her flawless look. I wasn’t sure where she got her frightening ability to manipulate the in-crowd at school to see her as one of them, but somehow, she had most of the younger classmen wrapped around her little finger.
“You’re not the only kid in school without a car,” Mom said, her eyebrows raising. “Audrey doesn’t have a car. There, end of discussion.”
Lexi threw her head back and sighed dramatically.
“What about you, Mom?” I asked, hoping to cut off the start of another argument.
“Hmm, let me see.” She placed a manicured finger on her lips and smiled. “Close the deal on a new client, get a massage, pick out the new decorations for my office, and conquer the world.”
I grinned. “What a life you lead.”
“Indeed.” Her smile faded and she sighed. “Of course, there’s also the issue with your father. We’re meeting in front of a mediator today.”
I tried not to grimace. Our parents had been in and out of court too many times for me to count. It started with the divorce, got ugly with the sale of Mom’s beloved family home, and then slowed to a glacial pace with the issue of child support. She did her best to shield us from it, but I could still sense the stress coming off of her in waves. She’d lost at least twenty pounds in the past six months that she couldn’t afford to lose on her already thin frame.
“I just hope he doesn’t bring that woman,” she added quietly. The light in her eyes seemed to dim at the prospect, her beautiful face crumbling.
She was talking about Marie. The woman who had put the final nail in the coffin of my parents’ marriage. They’d been married now for almost three weeks, but my mother still had that same look in her eyes every time she came up in a conversation. It killed me to see her like that.
“Well, today I’m going to pitch a new song to my choir director I wrote for the centennial event,” I said with more pep than I actually felt. “Then, I’m going to see if I made the cheerleading team. Oh, and conquer the world before bedtime, of course.”
“Yeah, like you’re going to make the cheerleading team,” Lexi replied in a huff. “I think Peter’s Ford Mustang might sprout wings before that happens.”
I ignored Lexi. All that mattered was the way that Mom’s face lit up. She grasped her coffee mug between her hands and squealed like a teenaged girl. “I’d always hoped one of my girls would be a Rock Valley cheerleader someday! You won’t regret it, Audrey. It was the best time of my life cheering on the Bandits.”
I would do anything to make my Mom smile like that all the tim
e. Even sacrifice my dignity at the feet of Savannah’s alter and beg to be let on the cheerleading squad. Mom’s favorite memories were from high school, when she was the cheerleading captain. Lately, she’d gotten in the habit of reminiscing about those times. I couldn’t blame her. With the divorce and Lexi’s moodiness, there wasn’t exactly a lot around here to be happy about. As the oldest kid, it was my job to keep her from fading into the bad.
Growing up, Mom and I’d never had much in common. Dad and I had music. We had our guitars. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to break through to her. But with all of Mom’s talk about the good old days, it hadn’t taken me long to realize that that was one sure way to erase my mother’s pain. If I made the squad, she’d have a reason to be proud. No more thoughts about Marie and Dad. If she had a daughter on the cheerleading squad, she wouldn’t be so sad anymore.
The sound of a car horn outside made me pop up from my chair. “Got to run, Trina’s here,” I shouted, heading toward the door. “Love you!”
“Love you, too. Make good choices!”
“Why doesn’t Audrey have to ride the bus? It’s so not fair,” Lexi complained, her argument fading as I shut the apartment door behind me.
Trina was waiting for me in her ocean blue Chevy Cavalier. It was rusty around the wheel wells and the trunk sometimes popped open when we were driving down the highway, but it was freedom. The only one of us to own a car, Trina was our official chauffeur. She didn’t seem to mind.
I often liked to joke that Trina would give away her entire college savings account to the poor if her parents would let her. She was the kind of person who always took pity on someone less fortunate. The first to drop a check in the collection basket. She was our own brown haired, green-eyed gorgeous-enough-to-be-a-super-model friend with a heart of gold and some serious talent with a paint brush in her hand.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” She eyed me over her sunglasses. “You look especially hot today. What’s the occasion?”
I glanced down at my pink skinny jeans, black pleather top, and gladiator sandals. One of the perks of my mother’s business was free clothes. I liked to raid her closet.
“First impressions are important,” I said, sliding into the front seat.
She gave me a sad smile and threw the car into drive. “Last impressions, you mean. It’s our final year. I can’t believe it.”
She’d been crying over our last year of school since we were practically freshmen. I couldn’t wait. There was a whole new world out there, one that didn’t include my awful cousin, dumb teenaged boys, or homework every night. One that I planned on exploring thoroughly, once I finally followed my dream to pursue music.
“By the way, you didn’t happen to check Instagram this morning, did you?” She kept her eyes suspiciously glued to the road in front of us.
Shaking my head, I leaned back into the seat. “No. Why?”
“Nothing.” She exhaled loudly. Too loudly. Something was up.
“Trina? What aren’t you telling me?”
“As your best friend and guardian of your mental health, I feel obligated to tell you that a temporary break from all social media might be in your best interests at the moment—”
I stopped listening and yanked my phone out of my back pack. The app was front and center. With a single click, up popped my daily feed. It took me three seconds of scrolling to spot what she was talking about and let out a horrific gasp.
“What is this?” I held the phone in front of her face, forgetting for the moment that we were traveling down a busy road.
“I told you not to look.” She dodged the phone and gave me a sad look. “It’s not the end of the world, Audrey. I promise.”
It was too the end of the world. I was staring at a photo of Collin and me just outside the beach bathhouse. My hair looked like I’d just woken up from a four hour nap and he was wearing an infuriating smile with a side of my pink lipstick. The caption read: Audrey Black with QB Collin Preston at annual beach party. Seven minutes in heaven or something much more naughty? By the looks of it, that’s another notch for Preston’s bed post. RockValleyBiz reporting.
“How did RockValleyBiz even get this photo?” I demanded, feeling sick to my stomach. RockValleyBiz was our school’s unofficial gossip rag, run by a top secret source. I’d never been interesting enough to make the feed. Until now.
“A lot of people had their phones out and were taking pictures,” Trina said sadly, glancing at me. “Anyone could’ve sent it in.”
I had the sudden desire to throw my phone out the window. “They make it sound like we did more than just kiss. And we didn’t even do that!”
“I know. I’m sorry, Audrey.”
A groan escaped my lips as I leaned on the passenger window and stared at the passing cars. What was better? For the whole school to think I’d thrown myself at the quarterback in a stupid game or for everyone to know how hopelessly untouchable I was that I’d never even kissed a guy? Neither option sounded very appealing.
“Are you sure we can’t just skip this year?” I pleaded, turning back to Trina.
“Not a chance,” she said with a peppy smile and toss of her blonde hair. “It’s only going to get better from here, Audrey. I promise.”
I doubted very much it was going to get better. With the way my life was going, I might as well have skipped the entire decade.
At least that way, I’d never have to face Collin Preston or his insidious smirk again.
Chapter Three
Despite my repeated threats to throw myself out of the moving car, Trina drove us to the sprawling campus of Rock Valley High with its impressive limestone walls and immaculately trimmed grass lawn. I’d spent three years of my life there, bumping up against six hundred other students who were also trying to figure out what their futures held. As I hopped out of Trina’s car, I tried not to focus on how many days were left for me in this place. One by one, they’d be crossed off my calendar at home with red ink, never to be mourned.
“When are tryouts going to be posted?” Trina asked, walking alongside me as we headed into the school.
I mostly kept my gaze glued to the floor, but once in a while I’d glance up to see people smiling or staring at me. Apparently, I wasn’t the only who’d seen the newest RockValleyBiz post.
“At the end of school,” I said, feeling another wave of sickness hit my stomach.
“Good luck.” She gave me one of her sweet and sincere smiles. “I know you’re going to make it, Audrey. You worked so hard this summer. It’ll pay off, I promise.”
I hoped she was right, but as she walked off toward her first class of the day, I couldn’t help but notice more people staring at me. This time, it was a group of jocks wearing their lettermen jackets in the hallway, pointing and laughing. It was far too hot in this late August heat to be wearing their jackets, but that went to show the mentality of our jock population at Rock Valley High. Excelling in a sport meant something. IQ, not so much.
I rushed past the living examples of modern Neanderthals and toward my locker down the next hall. It was at that corner that I froze. Collin Preston and his bunch of boy jock wonders were gathered outside Senora García’s Spanish classroom. They saw me as soon as I rounded the corner, their grins widening.
“Look who it is.” Nick Winston shoved Collin with his elbow and wagged his bushy eyebrows. “Think she’s back for another round?”
My cheeks burned and I turned to busy myself with getting into my locker. I’d learned fast that the best way to respond to jock hilarity was to ignore it. There was nothing they hated more in the world than the swift realization that they weren’t as funny as they thought they were.
“Didn’t get enough of him the first time,” I heard Nick continue with a laugh. “You really do know how to make the ladies beg for more, don’t ya, Preston? Tell us your secrets, dude.”
I spun on my heels to see Collin chuckle as his buddies playfully punched him in the gut. He held a hand over his abdomen, h
is gaze cutting to me. I glared at him, feeling rage and fear simultaneously bubble up inside me. Surely, Collin wasn’t going around blabbing about our bathhouse date. That was the last thing I needed for my senior year — to be the punchline of every joke. I wished that I could scare him into complete and total silence with just the look on my face, but from the amused quirk of his lips, I was about as intimidating as a bunny rabbit to him.
Apparently, he finally got tired of being the butt of the joke. With a gruff, “Quit it, guys,” he cut the laughter off abruptly with a motion of his right hand. “That’s enough.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as the bell rang and the halls around us began to empty. Collin’s buddies sauntered off to class, leaving him standing there. I turned back to my locker, my heart trying to escape from my chest.
Really could’ve used some of that bubonic plague about now.
“You’ve got to learn to relax a little bit,” a deep voice said to my right.
I turned my head just enough to see Collin leaning on the lockers beside me, his arms crossed over his chest and his hair falling into his brown eyes. He was the only football player not wearing a letterman’s jacket today. Instead, he sported a black leather jacket over a gray t-shirt and jeans. It was an effortlessly cool look. One that he had apparently perfected.
“How can I?” I asked. “Have you seen the newest RockValleyBiz post?”
“Yep. It was a good shot, if you ask me. Got my good side.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. So much for some sympathy. I guess that didn’t come standard with the high school jock model. “Maybe you’re used to this kind of thing, but I was happy living my life in basic obscurity until this moment.”
He shrugged, his dark eyes taking in the pictures of guitars and random lyrics I’d taped inside my locker. “It’ll all blow over soon. No one believes that kind of stuff. I mean, do you think they’d believe me if I told them you’d never even kissed a guy?”
Dare You to Kiss the Quarterback (Rock Valley High Book 1) Page 2
