Lover's Game (South Bay Soundtracks Book 3)

by Amelia Stone

  Needless to say, I’d stuffed that awful thing in the back of my closet the moment I got home, and I hadn’t thought of it since.

  “So you don’t have much choice,” Jess concluded unnecessarily.

  I whimpered, because it was becoming clearer by the second that this was a no-win situation.

  My sister rolled her eyes again, cruelly mocking my distress. “Wait here.”

  She crossed to my bedroom door, hurled it open, marched across the landing to the top of the stairs, and bellowed down to the floor below.

  “Phoebe!”

  “Jesus Christ, Jessica!” Phoebe’s husky voice came floating up the stairs a moment later. “Are you trying to rattle the fucking walls?”

  “Phoebe Louise, you watch your language around your little sisters!” My mother’s voice was distant and muffled, telling me she was probably in the kitchen. The whole house smelled like her lemon verbena soap, too, proving my guess correct.

  But the fact that she’d heard us only supported my theory that she had ears in the back of her head.

  “They’re not babies, Mom!” Phoebe’s voice sounded a little closer, and a second later I heard her footsteps on the stairs. “And if we don’t teach them how to curse, they’ll just learn it on the streets.”

  “They don’t need to learn anything that could be used in the streets!”

  Mom had a thing against curse words. She said they were inherently unkind, and for a woman who believed kindness was the most important quality a person could possess, it was like saying Nazis had invented the F word.

  Phoebe ignored Mom’s warning as she wafted into the room. No, really, she wafted. My middle sister was just inherently graceful. She’d taken ballet classes all throughout her childhood, and now, at the ripe old age of nineteen, she was a model – when she wasn’t taking classes at the Fashion Institute of Technology, that is. She’d even walked in two runway shows for New York Fashion Week in February. Mom had bragged about “my daughter the fashion model” for weeks afterward.

  A teeny, tiny spark of hope ignited as she stood at the foot of the bed. It was lucky Phoebe was home for the weekend, because she knew everything about clothes. Maybe she could get me out of this mess.

  “What is the calamity of the day?” she asked, directing a long-suffering look at Jess, who was kind of like an adorable hurricane. She left chaos in her wake, but somehow you loved her anyway.

  Jess hooked a thumb my way. “Nope. Kris is the drama llama today.”

  Phoebe raised a perfectly-groomed eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Really.” Jess nodded. “She’s meeting someone at the dance tonight, and she has nothing to wear.”

  Phoebe’s eyes flicked to mine. “You have a date?”

  I nodded, and my shoulders hunched as I waited for the jokes to come.

  Instead, much to my surprise, Phoebe’s whole face lit up. “That’s fucking rad!”

  “Phoebe Louise!”

  Phoebe ignored Mom’s far-away shout again, clapping her hands instead and rubbing them together in glee. “I can’t believe Seth finally got the balls to ask you out.”

  I froze. “What?”

  “Oh, wait, did you ask him? Is it like a Sadie Hawkins thing?”

  Jess shook her head. “No, it’s the Spring Fling.” She wrinkled her nose. “And she’s going with Ward Hopkins.”

  Phoebe frowned. “The Senator’s kid?” I nodded. “Why the hell would you want to date that meathead?”

  I shrugged. “He asked,” I said in a very small voice.

  He was the only boy who’d asked – the only one who’d ever even looked at me. He’d been really nice to me for weeks, actually. Every morning, he brought me a banana or apple or some other fruit before homeroom, and he always asked me about my day as we walked home together. He’d even taken to carrying my books for me between classes, like we’d been sucked into that Pleasantville movie or something.

  Seth seemed suspicious of Ward’s attention, probably because it was so different from the way he used to treat me. But I kind of liked it. I didn’t know why he’d taken a sudden interest in me, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. All the other kids at school had been a lot nicer to me since Ward started hanging around my locker, and my life was a lot easier for it.

  Phoebe’s brow furrowed like she didn’t get it, either. “But what about Seth?”

  I inhaled sharply, feeling suddenly light-headed. “What about Seth?”

  I had never told anyone about my stupid, inconvenient crush on my best friend. And considering that was all I’d ever be to him, I had decided I never would. No one would learn of my obsession with his beautiful dark eyes and those stupid long eyelashes, or his silky dark hair that fell over his eyebrows, or the tight muscles in his forearms from years of batting practice. No one needed to know that I’d been dreaming of kissing him for months – years, probably, if I were honest. Or that the dreams had started to feel so vivid lately that I’d almost made it a reality.

  It all happened when I decided to show him my game. I’d been working up the courage to tell him about it for a long time, and last week, when we were sitting here in my room, I finally felt brave enough to do it. I wasn’t sure why, exactly. Something about the moment just felt right.

  And then he’d looked at me like I was the most amazing person on the planet, like I had hung the moon. He’d never looked at me like that before, like I was everything he wanted and more. As you might imagine, I got a little carried away.

  But I was just his most amazing friend. He’d made that really clear after the kiss-that-never-was. So clear, in fact, that I was now convinced I’d imagined the dazed look in his eyes right before I’d leaned in, lips puckered and ready.

  So when Ward asked me to the Spring Fling the very next day, my bruised ego and I had said yes.

  “‘What about Seth?’ she says.” Phoebe shook her head. “You two are idiots.”

  I blinked. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oooo-kay.” Phoebe gave me a look that made it clear she didn’t know why she put up with me. But then she clapped her hands again, like she was getting down to business. “Whatever. So you need an outfit for your date with not-Seth.” She looked around the room. “What are we working with?”

  “Well, there’s this.” Jess held up the church dress.

  Phoebe wrinkled her nose, which was also dusted with freckles, though hers were much smaller and lighter than mine. “Ew. Did Nana give you that thing?”

  I nodded miserably.

  “She gave me one, too.” Phoebe rolled her eyes. “I made a pillow out of it.”

  Jess snorted. “I’ll bet it’s the ugliest pillow ever.”

  Phoebe smiled evilly. “Don’t get too smug, baby sister. You’ll get one come November. It’s a fourteenth birthday tradition, because ‘you’re a woman now.’”

  My eyes trailed down to my flat chest. “Yeah, I totally feel like a woman.”

  Phoebe waved a hand dismissively. “Not the point. What else do we have?”

  Jess held up the blue dress, which looked even smaller on the hanger than it did on her. Phoebe frowned at it.

  “No, it doesn’t fit,” I said, to save me the pain of hearing her ask.

  But Phoebe didn’t seem to care about that. Instead, she gave me a thoughtful look. “You have a navy cardigan, right?”

  I thought for a second, then I nodded. “But it doesn’t cover enough.”

  I never wore the lightweight sweater because it was cropped just above my waist, which highlighted all the things that were better left hidden. I had a full baker’s dozen of muffin tops, which was one of the reasons I liked my baggy tee shirts. I hadn’t gotten any taller in the past three years or so, like most of the other girls in my grade. I had, however, gained thirty-three pounds, on top of the twenty-ish extra pounds I was already carrying. Which of course my doctor liked to discuss with my mother and me every time I went in for a checkup. She told him (truthfully) that I a
te a healthy diet and exercised every day, both when I walked to and from school, and when Rose, my mom’s dog, dragged me around the neighborhood twice a day. But I was pretty sure he didn’t believe us.

  And as Melody Reyes never failed to mention, those thirty-three pounds, like the twenty-ish before them, had not gone to the “right” places, like my chest or butt. Nope, all that fluff had landed at my hips and tummy, with little detours to my thighs and arms for good measure. And it would all be on full display in Jess’s ultra-tight dress.

  “You want this back?” Phoebe asked, holding the blue thing up.

  Jess shook her head. “Nah. I was gonna wear that green dress I got last week.” Her cheeks flushed. “Plus Dad had a cow the last time I wore that one.”

  “Damn straight.” Phoebe nodded. “You’re still a baby, you don’t need to be walking around town looking like a hoochie mama.”

  I snickered, because the petty side of me loved any reminder that though I was shorter, and still rocking a little girl’s body, I was nevertheless the older sister. For her part, Jess huffed, annoyed at once again being called the baby.

  “What time is this dance?” Phoebe asked as she pulled a measuring tape from her pocket.

  Before I could even ask why she carried one of those around, she pulled me to a standing position, lifting my arms until they were sticking straight out. Then she started taking measurements all over my body, marking them down in a tiny notebook with a stubby golf pencil, both of which also came from that Mary Poppins pocket.

  I glanced at the cat clock on my wall. Its tail ticked steadily, its cartoon bug eyes laughing at me as it made clear just how little time I had to get ready for the Spring Fling.

  “It starts at seven,” I replied. “So, like, an hour from now.”

  Phoebe smiled. “Perfect. I only need thirty minutes.” She slipped the measuring tape and notebook back in her pocket, then grabbed the blue dress. Without another word, she marched out of the room, presumably headed to the makeshift sewing lab in her room.

  But a moment later, she poked her head back in the room. “In the meantime, take a shower. You smell like stress sweat and pickles.”

  An hour later, I was standing in the hallway at school, smoothing a hand down my front one last time.

  “Stop that,” Jess said, batting my hand away. “You look gorgeous.”

  I bit my lip, tasting the cherry-vanilla lip gloss my sisters had insisted I wear. I wasn’t so sure about gorgeous, but I had to admit, I was now a firm believer in Phoebe’s brand of thirty-minute magic. She’d taken Jess’s too-tight dress and let out the seams, allowing me to actually breathe while wearing it. She’d also sewn on an overlay of soft, swishy blue fabric, which made the original bodice into a sort of slip underneath. Finally, she’d gathered it with a sash just above my waist. She called it an empire waist, whatever that meant. All I knew was that the fabric skimmed over my fluffy bits, which was much more flattering than the original design. When paired with my navy cardigan, (mostly) tamed hair, and a pair of silver sandals, I looked… not so bad.

  At least, I’d thought so while we were still at home, in the safety of my little attic cave. Now that I was standing in front of the gym doors, staring at the peeling portrait of Captain Elmo, the school’s eyepatched, mustachioed, tricorn-hatted mascot, I wasn’t so sure.

  Also, I was roughly eighty-three percent sure I was about to throw up. I pressed a hand to my stomach. Nope, make that ninety-one percent. Any second now.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Jess said, hooking her arm through mine. “You look amazing, and even though Ward is a butthead and I do not in any way condone you dating him, you are going to dance with him, and drink punch, and have a good time.”

  I looked over at my baby sister, doing my best to swallow down the nausea. She seemed so sure of herself, like there was no way I wouldn’t have an awesome night. I’d always envied her confidence, but never more so than in that moment.

  “You really think so?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course, doofus. Now let’s motor.”

  As we pushed through the doors, one of my favorite songs by The Pretenders was playing, and I tentatively smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad tonight, after all.

  The gym was crowded, not surprisingly. Nearly all of the two hundred or so kids in our grade were here, plus half the faculty, and even a few parent chaperones. I looked around the room for a moment, taking in the faces, but I didn’t find the one I was looking for.

  “Let’s go that-a-way.”

  Across the gym, Kelly Rutherford waved at us, and Jess started to pull me in her direction.

  “Oh, but I’m supposed to meet Ward,” I protested as I trailed behind her. I scanned the crowd again, but I didn’t see him.

  Panic filled my veins all of a sudden. Was he going to stand me up? Oh my gods. He was going to stand me up.

  “He’ll find you,” she promised, like she knew for sure. “Besides, you look great. He’ll definitely pick you out of the crowd.”

  I looked down at myself doubtfully. Compared to Jess, who looked like she’d stepped out of a Seventeen magazine, I was decidedly drab. But I had no choice but to hope she was right, since she was still dragging me to the other side of the gym.

  “You guys look awesome!” Kelly smiled at us as we reached her. She pointed to Jenny Kim, who was standing next to her. “We were just saying we love your dress, Krista.”

  Jenny nodded in agreement. “It’s really pretty.”

  I hunched my shoulders, waiting for them to turn the compliment into a joke, like most people did.

  But Kelly was still smiling, and it looked sincere. “Where did you get it?”

  “Oh. Um.” My throat dried up, and I swallowed.

  “Our sister made it,” Jess told her, squeezing my elbow gently, because she knew all this social interaction was tough for me. My shoulders relaxed slightly, and I tried to remind myself that Kelly and Jenny had never been mean to my face, at least.

  A low bar, sure, but that was just middle school. Or it was middle school for me, anyway.

  “Lucky!” Kelly sighed.

  “I wish I had a sister to make pretty dresses for me,” Jenny agreed.

  “My brother bleached my Justin Timberlake concert tee last week,” Kelly said. “On purpose.”

  “What a turd!” Jess cried, and we all nodded in agreement.

  “So where’s Ward?” Jenny asked.

  “Yes! You guys are supposed to be on a date, right?” Kelly smiled at me again.

  I nodded, shuffling my feet back and forth. Everyone seemed to know that Ward and I were going to Spring Fling together about three seconds after he’d asked me, even though no one had overheard us, and I hadn’t told anyone but Jess and Seth. Our middle school was a hotbed of gossip, though. Everyone knew everything, and news spread fast.

  “I haven’t seen him yet though,” I admitted. “He was supposed to meet me.” I tried not to make it too obvious that I was afraid he wasn’t going to show.

  “He’ll be here,” Jess repeated, which told me I hadn’t succeeded.

  “That is so awesome, though. A real date. I wish Ty had asked me to be his date.” Kelly wrinkled her nose. “He just said maybe he’d see me there. Like I’m supposed to wait around for him or whatever.”

  “Boys,” I grumbled, and Kelly and I shared a nod of solidarity.

  Jenny sighed. “No one asked me.”

  “Me neither,” Jess said, sounding way more cheerful than I would have about her datelessness.

  But as we stood there talking, I realized I was the only one here who had a date. Me. Not Jess, the pretty, popular Summers girl. Not Kelly, the sweet girl that everyone loved. Not even Jenny, with her perfect skin and quick comebacks.

  No, I, Krista Summers, professional DUFF, had a date.

  Crazy.

  “The guys in our school are all kinda dumb, though, so I don’t mind flying solo.” Jess shrugged.

  “Hey! Seth’s not du
mb,” I argued.

  Jess give me a weird look. “And neither is Ward,” she replied, raising her eyebrows. “Right?”

  My cheeks were on fire as I nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

  Ward. Ward is supposed to be my date, I reminded myself.

  “Sage is definitely dumb,” Jenny said, staring at my cousin, who was standing up against the wall a few feet away, glaring at her like he was trying to scare her away.

  Seth and Ty were standing next to him, and Seth nodded in greeting when I caught his eye. He also looked kind of angry as he stared at me, and I wondered what that was about. Was he still suspicious of my date? Was he mad about something else? Or maybe he was in pain. I knew his knee was bothering him more than he let on.

  This seemed specific, though, like he wasn’t just mad – he was mad at me. I know he’d tried to convince me not to go with Ward to the dance, and he was upset when I refused to back out of the date.

  But when I’d asked him why I shouldn’t go, it was like he couldn’t answer. He wanted to say something, that much was clear. His mouth had opened and closed a bunch of times, like the words were on the tip of his tongue. But for some reason, he couldn’t say them. Or wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure which, but in the end it didn’t matter.

  Because he was just my friend.

  So I reminded myself I needed to focus on my date. I scanned the crowd again, but I still couldn’t find Ward. I tried to breathe slowly, in through my nose, out through my mouth. But the panic was rising with every second.

  “Well, yeah. We could have told you that.” Jess laughed, and I had to shake my head a little bit as I tried to remember what they were talking about. Right. Sage. “He is our cousin.”

  Jenny grinned. “Everyone in this school’s your cousin, though.”

  “True that,” Jess replied, and they shared a laugh.

  “Oh!” Kelly grabbed my arm. “There’s Ward!”

  I turned to look where Kelly was pointing, and like someone had timed it, the crowd parted, and I saw him. Ward was standing at the edge of the dance floor, his blond hair shining under the lights. He looked really nice in his khakis and button-down shirt. Plus, his shoes were polished, and he’d even put on a tie. He’d obviously put a lot of effort into his appearance, and relief flooded through me. He’d shown up after all. And he had made sure he looked nice. For me.