All That and a Bag of Chips

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All That and a Bag of Chips Page 13

by Amber Garza


  I broke out in a sweat. This was bad. Really bad. The picture was from months ago. And we didn’t even follow each other. He would know I was stalking him.

  Blowing out a breath, I lowered myself down on the edge of my bed and texted Ava.

  Me: OMG! I did something really stupid.

  Ava: What now?

  Me: Now? Do I do stupid things a lot?

  Ava: Seriously?

  I laughed.

  Me: I hate you.

  Ava: Ditto.

  I laughed again.

  Me: I was stalking Nick’s account, and I accidentally liked an old pic.

  Ava: What?

  Me: Is it that bad?

  Ava: Worse.

  Me: Thanks a lot.

  Ava: You want me to lie to you?

  Me: Of course not.

  Groaning, I lie back on my bed.

  Me: Should I unlike it?

  Ava: NO!

  Yeah, I guess that was stupid. Then he’d see me like it and unlike it. Ugh. This was a disaster.

  Me: What do I do?

  Ava: Nothing.

  She was right. It was too late to fix this.

  This would never happen in 1993.

  ***

  “Man, he’s so hot.” Ava sat next to me on the bleachers, her elbows resting on her knees.

  I stared straight ahead watching Nick jog across the field, a football tucked under his arm. “Yeah, he is,” I mumbled.

  Around us, everyone cheered, laughed or chatted. The scent of hot dogs, chips and sweat wafted under my nose.

  “I’ve always had a thing for guys in uniform,” Ava said.

  Huh? Is Ava into Nick too?

  I turned to her, following her gaze. It was locked on Sam who sat a few rows in front of us with the rest of the marching band.

  I laughed. “Whoever said that probably didn’t mean a marching band uniform.”

  “Shut up.” She wacked me in the leg. “He’s totally hot.”

  My gaze found Nick again. He was throwing the football toward another player. “Oh, yeah, he is.”

  “Have you told him yet that you got the solo?” Ava asked.

  A wave of adrenaline rushed through me. I was shocked when my choir teacher announced that I’d gotten the solo in class today. And I still felt a little stunned.

  “Haven’t had the chance,” I said, shaking my head. “Maybe I’ll get to after the game.”

  Our team made a touchdown, and everyone screamed and clapped. Ava and I flinched. The cheerleaders jumped up and down with their pom poms, kicking up their legs and squealing. I’d seen the cheer squad in action before at rallies and stuff, but it was weird watching them this time now that I had memories of being out there with them.

  Glancing over to the edge of the bleachers, I remembered seeing Ava with her mom at that game in the nineties.

  “Hey, how’s it going with your mom?” I asked. It wasn’t something Ava talked about. Not unless I asked.

  She shrugged. “Okay.” Frowning, she added, “Same.”

  “Still miserable, huh?”

  Ava offered me a knowing smile. “Yep.”

  “I’m sorry, Aves.”

  She waved away my words. “It’s whatever.”

  That was her way of ending the conversation. I took the hint, returning my attention to the game. Ian and Melissa walked in front of the bleachers, hands linked. I was surprised by the way my stomach soured. It’s not like I wanted to be with him.

  Melissa could have him.

  Whatever.

  But still.

  “Are they together now?” Ava asked, eyes narrowing.

  “I don’t know. Seems like it.”

  “She deserves him.”

  I nodded, but irritation nagged at me. He cheated on me, and now he got the girl? And what about me? I was the one alone.

  Always alone.

  Ignoring Ian, I spotted Nick on the field and smiled. I hadn’t always been alone. I’d been with Nick. I mean, okay, so not in this lifetime. And what we had hadn’t lasted that long. But it had happened.

  I remembered it.

  Every. Single. Detail.

  It did happen.

  And now I needed to make it happen again.

  Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands and watched the game. Well, if I’m being honest, I wasn’t really watching the game. I was mostly watching Nick.

  At halftime, the marching band took the field. Sam waved at Ava as he passed, and she giggled into her hand.

  “Wow, you’re super into him,” I teased.

  “Totes,” she joked back, and we both laughed.

  While Ava was fixated on Sam, I searched for Nick. He and his teammates were filing off the field. When he passed the cheerleaders, Brooke bounded over to him, her hand resting on his arm. My stomach constricted. She laughed, tossing her hair back. I waited for him to back away from her, but he didn’t. He leaned in close, speaking near her ear. It almost looked like they’d kiss.

  Bile rose in my throat.

  Was he into her?

  Averting my gaze from the two of them, I blew out a ragged breath. My eyes were hot, my throat dry.

  I knew it would be hard to see Nick with someone else, but I never once imagined that someone would be Brooke.

  This was way too hard.

  “You okay?” Ava hand landed on my shoulder.

  “Yeah. Fine.” I cleared my throat. “Um…I need to go the bathroom.”

  Standing on shaky legs, I carefully walked down the bleachers. They creaked and rattled under my feet. I almost tripped over a purse and someone’s nacho tray. But eventually I made it to the bottom without falling, thank god.

  “Remy!” Ian’s voice rang out right before I made it to the bathroom.

  I thought about ignoring him, but Ian was persistent. I liked it when we were together. Now it was annoying. After blowing out an exasperated breath, I slowly turned. Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “Yeah?”

  “Are you gonna stay mad at me forever?” He swaggered in my direction, cocking a half-smile. Once upon a time it worked on me.

  But not today.

  “Yep.” I started to turn, but he stopped me.

  “Wait. Please, stop. I’ve said I was sorry a million times. What more do you want?”

  “Nothing,” I told him “I want you to leave me alone.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yeah, I really do.”

  “But I want you back, Rem.”

  Of course he did. Ian liked a challenge. He never wanted me this bad when he actually had me.

  “You’re with Melissa,” I reminded him.

  “No, I’m not.”

  I laughed bitterly. “I just saw you with her.”

  “I know, but I don’t want her. I want you.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  He pressed his lips together.

  I laughed again. “You didn’t, did you?”

  “If I do, will you take me back?”

  “You just did.” I pointed over his shoulder to where Melissa had walked up a second before. Her lips curled downward, her forehead pulling together in an ugly and severe way. “And no, I’m not taking you back.”

  Shaking my head, I whirled around and headed toward the bathroom, leaving Ian to deal with his epic fail.

  EIGHTEEN

  Toilet paper.

  Everywhere.

  Hanging from the trees, covering the bushes, strewn all over the front lawn.

  Teepeed. Really?

  That’s a first.

  I didn’t even know people still did this.

  Cleaning up toilet paper was seriously not the way I wanted to spend my Sunday morning. But I didn’t have a choice. Mom woke me up bright and early, handed me a trash bag and sent me outside. She sent Preston out, too, but he’d already managed to disappear. Normally I’d go after him, but I was pretty sure I knew who did this.

  And it wasn’t one of Preston’s friends.
>
  “Whoa.” Nick made his way over to our lawn, his eyes wide. He wore a pair of gym shorts and a tank top, tennis shoes on his feet. His tanned arms were toned, his shoulders broad.

  My body went hot. But I forced myself to act normal and not stare. How would I react to Ava if she said this?

  “Yeah, I know, right?” Bending down, I picked up a piece of damp toilet paper and threw it in the trash bag. Eww. Not only was this going to take hours, but it was also pretty disgusting.

  “Who’d you piss off?” Nick’s gaze scoured the yard.

  “Melissa Hawkins,” I muttered under my breath.

  “The girl your ex is with?”

  “Not anymore,” I explained. “He broke it off with her last night to get back with me.”

  “Oh.” His eyebrows drew together. “So, you and Ian are back together, huh?”

  “No way,” I said. “How stupid do I look?”

  He smiled.

  I was legit standing in a pool of toilet paper. “Don’t answer that.”

  “Okay, I won’t.” Nick laughed. “Good call on not getting back together with Ian. You deserve better.”

  My cheeks flamed, and my heart flipped in my chest. To keep him from noticing, I fixated on the toilet paper.

  “Need some help?” he asked.

  “Oh, no.” I waved away his offer. “You don’t have to.”

  “I know.” He headed over to the bushes lining our front porch and started tugging at the toilet paper stuck in the branches. “But I got time.”

  I turned, studying his outfit choice. “Were you on your way to workout or something?”

  “Nope. Just a run,” he said, his back to me. “To clear my head.”

  I wanted to ask what his head needed to be cleared out from, but he had said the words so softly I wasn’t sure I was supposed to hear them. Nick appeared by my side, a wad of toilet paper in his hand. When he threw it into the bag I was holding, our arms brushed. I shivered. His familiar scent enveloped me. My pulse took off. I swallowed hard.

  “I didn’t realize you knew my sister.” His words caught me off guard.

  My head snapped up. “Huh?”

  “You liked one of my pictures…”

  My head swam. I blinked a few times. “Um…yeah, I sort of know her. You know, from when she lived at home.” With my thumb, I pointed to his house like an idiot. Like he didn’t know where she lived. Oh, geez.

  He nodded, laughing in an embarrassed way, which surprised me. Why was he embarrassed? I was the one stalking his IG account. “Oh. Right.”

  “How’s she liking school?” I said quickly to keep him from asking me anything else.

  “Not sure.” A sad smile flickered over his lips. “I mean, she says she likes it, but we mostly text. We don’t talk or see each other that much.”

  I dropped the trash bag on the ground and stepped toward Nick. “Things still aren’t great between she and your dad?”

  He froze, his gaze piercing mine. Shit. Did I say that out loud? 2018, Remy! 2018. Remember what time period you’re in.

  “How’d you know about that?”

  “Um…well, I…um…I…” traveled back in time, and we dated, and you told me. Yeah, let’s not say that. “Um…I…” But I should probably say something other than “um” and “I.”

  “Oh, I get it.” He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze flitting back to his house. “You overheard Dad and I fighting the other day, huh? Sorry. I know I can get kinda loud.”

  He was fighting with his dad? Just like in 1993? Wild. “No worries.”

  “My family’s kinda going through some shit right now.”

  I nodded. “Who’s isn’t?”

  He threw some more toilet paper into the bag. “Your dad still working out of town?”

  Now it was my turn to be surprised.

  Winking, he said, “I overhear things too.”

  My insides turned to mush.

  “Remy?” Mom stood on the front porch wearing sweats and holding a coffee mug.

  Oh, god. That’s right. I’m still in my sweats too. I glanced down at my t-shirt and sweat pants. Reaching up, I fingered my messy bun. Great.

  “Oh, hi.” She waved to Nick. Then she looked at me and raised her eyebrows in appreciation. I narrowed my eyes and subtly shook my head, praying Nick didn’t pick up on the silent exchange. “Where’s Preston?”

  “Beats me,” I said.

  “That kid.” Shaking her head, she muttered something unintelligible and went back inside.

  Nick laughed. “Looks like your brother’s in trouble.”

  “Always.” Reaching up, I yanked some toilet paper down from a branch. But it ripped in half, so I didn’t get much.

  “Sounds like he and I have something in common.”

  Shocked, I swung around. “Really?”

  “Surprised?” He cocked a brow.

  My knees wobbled. I nodded.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “You kinda seem like the golden boy or something.”

  Nick laughed. “Golden boy, huh?”

  “Well, you know, quarterback of the football team, popular…” Why was I explaining it?

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I guess I am a golden boy.” He stood tall, his hand on his hip and his chin tilting upward like he was a statue.

  I giggled. Losing the pose, he laughed too and threw me a wink. Then we both went back to cleaning.

  “You can leave whenever you need to,” I said after several silent minutes.

  “I’m good.” When he reached up into the tree, I found myself mesmerized by the definition in his muscles. He caught me staring and flashed me an amused smile. Clearing my throat, I quickly averted my eyes.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Ava: What’s going on?

  I thought of all the time I’d spent with Nick in 1993 and how badly I’d wanted to share that with Ava. Finally, now I had something I could share.

  Me: I was teepeed.

  Ava: What? By who?

  Me: Guess.

  Ava: Ian?

  I hadn’t thought of him, but maybe.

  Me: I was thinking Melissa, but it could also be Ian.

  Ava: Agreed that it’s probably one of them. Need help?

  Me: I have help.

  Ava: Your mom?

  Man, my social life really is lame, huh?

  Me: No.

  Ava: Pres?

  Me: No.

  Ava: Your aunt?

  It was getting worse.

  Me: Nick.

  Ava: No way.

  Smiling, I glanced up. Nick’s back was to me. With slick fingers, I clicked on the camera app. My arm trembled when I lifted the phone to take a picture. It came out all blurry. Sweat formed under my armpits. Working hard to steady it, I took another picture. Blurry again. Dammit. Finally, on the third try it came out a little better. Too bad that’s when Nick decided to turn. One side of his mouth curled upward.

  “You’re not gonna use that to blackmail me, are ya?”

  My chest was so tight I couldn’t breathe. I shook my head. “No. I…um…I was taking a picture of the yard to send to Ava. She didn’t believe me that I got teepeed.” Nice save.

  “Ahh, ok.” I wasn’t sure if he was convinced or not, but he appeared to be.

  I sent the picture and immediately got a text back. It was a thumbs-up emoji followed by a bunch of heart emojis. Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I went back to work.

  “Saw you at the game on Friday,” Nick said. “Do you go a lot?”

  I shook my head. “We went because Ava’s got a thing for a guy in marching band. But football’s not really my jam.”

  “Not your jam, huh?” He smiled, one eyebrow slightly raised. “What is your jam? Besides singing?”

  “I like writing and reading,” Oh, god. Did I think this was a job interview?

  Nick laughed, but not in a condescending way. More in an amused one. “What about a guilty pleasure?”r />
  Wait. What? My mouth was like the freakin’ desert. I needed some water. Stat.

  “Guilty pleasure?” I squeaked.

  “Yeah, you know…like French fries.”

  “French fries?”

  “What? You don’t like ‘em?”

  “No, of course I like French fries.” Who didn’t? “I guess I never thought of them as a guilty pleasure.”

  “Really? What do you consider a guilty pleasure then?”

  Licking my lips, I swallowed hard. But my mouth was still painfully dry. “I don’t know, like reality TV probably.”

  “You like reality TV?”

  It wasn’t something I usually copped to, but I found myself nodding.

  “We should combine the two. Eat French fries and watch reality TV.”

  “You were serious about the French fries?” I asked. “That’s your guilty pleasure?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh. I thought that was just an example.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I love French fries. When I was younger I even went through a phase where I ate nothing but French fries.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “What do you eat them with?” I waited for him to say some specialty sauce or that he dips them in milkshakes the way my brother sometimes did.

  “Ketchup.”

  “For real? Ketchup. That’s it?”

  He nodded. “That’s it.”

  After we both laughed lightly, there was a lull in the conversation. We both went back to cleaning up.

  As I rounded up a handful of toilet paper, I realized I still hadn’t told him my big news.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” I said abruptly, dumping the contents from my hands into the trash bag. “I got the choir solo.”

  “That’s awesome.” He walked toward me, putting up his fist and bringing it toward mine.

  A fist bump? Really? Oh, well. At least it was something.

  I made a fist and connected it with his. It wasn’t a hug or kiss or anything even remotely romantic. Still, it made me feel close to him. A fist bump was something you did with your friends. Your buddies. Your peeps.

  And being his friend was definitely a step up from his neighbor he barely spoke to. It was a start, at least.

  Preston came running toward me from the side yard with a smile on his face and his phone in his hand.

  Annoyance flared. It’s not like I wanted him here bugging me, but I hated how he always got out of everything. “Where’ve you been?”

 

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