He was hot…from his sneakers with some famous athlete’s name on them to his long muscular legs encased in perfectly-faded blue jeans…okay, I got hung up on his thighs, but, trust me, the rest was good too. Just go look up “hot jock” in the dictionary; it’s sure to have his picture.
“But, baby…”
Dax shook his head, his eyes still holding mine.
Something about his cockiness ruffled my feathers.
“Baby?” I asked, tilting my head, giving it right back to him. There was an awkward silence with Paige waiting for Dax to look at her but Dax’s gaze was fixed on me. What was his problem?
I met him stare for stare, hoping he’d get bored and I could go back to blending into the background but nope, still he stood with all his attention focused on me like I was Tom Brady scoring a Hail Mary touchdown with three seconds to go in the game. Was he trying to make Paige jealous? The two of them were an item last year. Were they in some fight? Ha! Like I wanted to be dragged into their drama. No thanks. I frowned at him and his lips tilted up into a crooked grin.
“Baby, we always go to Rudy’s. Pizza in our corner booth. Everyone will be there.”
“Not me. I’ve got to get Boyd to fix my schedule.” He settled into the chair next to me, looking like he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Nobody puts Baby in the corner booth,” I said and got two pairs of clueless eyes on me. Only Mrs. G, the secretary, snickered from behind her desk. “Thank you, Mrs. G. My generation has no respect for the classics.”
Paige gave me her “please go catch some Pokémon in traffic” look. Only the look didn’t come close to saying “please.”
Whatever. I focused on the printed schedule in my hands, smoothing the corner that had crinkled from being crammed into my backpack. I did not have to make a schedule change. No, I had to have my quarterly “make sure Ali is fine” talk with Dr. Boyd. Which I hated, but it gave my dad some peace of mind so I put up with it.
“Dax—”
“Just go to lunch. I’ll catch everyone later,” he said, his deep voice firm.
“Sure, okay. I’ll see you later.” I wasn’t looking at Paige, but her voice came out tentative and soft, like if a kitten with big, blinking eyes could talk it would sound just like her.
The small reception area went quiet except for Mrs. G’s nails clicking away on her computer keyboard. Figuring the coast was clear, I lifted my head only to find Dax leaning casually into my space, his gaze moving over my schedule. Ha! Bet he was trying to find out my name.
I jerked my schedule from his line of sight, slipping it inside my backpack on the floor before sitting back, keeping my gaze far away from Dax and firmly on Mrs. G’s fast-moving hands. She had her nails professionally manicured every week with fun colors and themes throughout the school year. Looked like she’d gone with the school colors this week: blue and silver.
“Nice school spirit, Mrs. G.”
“Thank you, Ali.” She paused her typing, stretching a hand out and wiggling her fingers for me to see. “I even got rabbit decals.”
“You really ramped it up a notch.” Rabbit. Mythical Jackalope. Close enough, especially because our school mascots, Mr. and Ms. Jackalope, were long-eared rabbits. What were the odds Mrs. G was a former cheerleader?
“So…” Dax’s voice interrupted my ignoring him. I kept my gaze on Mrs. G’s hands. “Your name’s Ali.”
I gave him the side-eye. Why was he still talking to me now that Paige was gone?
“Why does everyone call you Frosty?” He leaned forward, invading my space and shoving himself into my line of sight, making it impossible to pretend he wasn’t sitting next to me talking.
“Newsflash: everyone doesn’t.” Like Paige and her crowd was everyone. And her crowd was his crowd. I guess to him he meant everyone who mattered. I honestly didn’t know Dax DeLeon at all, but he was sounding like a douche canoe. Which would make it a lot easier to resist his beautiful dark brown eyes and hot smile. In theory anyway. “Just the ones who feel the need to belittle others to make themselves feel better.”
Mrs. G coughed but kept on typing and I kept on ignoring Dax while he kept on looking at me. (Just a guess since I refused to look at him, but that would explain why the left side of my face felt like I’d sunbathed in Del Rio in August. At noon. Without sunscreen.) Thankfully, Dr. Boyd’s door finally opened.
“Dottie, would you adjust the numbers on the hall bulletin board of available electives? We’re down to three open spots in bowling and two in life skills. Auto and wood working slots are the same.”
“Absolutely.”
“Come on in, Ms. Frost.” Dr. Boyd lowered his wire-frame glasses down his nose to look at Dax. “Mr. DeLeon, why are you here?”
“Just need a quick schedule change, if you have the time now.” Dax stood up, sliding in front of me. “Is that okay, Ali? Unless you needed to talk about that invisible thing with him. You should definitely go first if that’s the case.”
“Darn, you can still see me.” I didn’t want the attention of Dax and his crowd. I could handle being laughed at by the popular kids, but that didn’t mean I wanted to. It would be an annoying distraction. To be honest, with the way the last year had gone, there were days when I felt like someone had opened the top of my head, filled it with diet soda, dropped in a handful of Mentos, and slammed it closed. If I had to deal with kids like Dax and Paige, you might as well shake me up and get the explosion over with.
“Ali?” Dr. Boyd asked. “His schedule change will only take a minute.”
“Sure. Whatever.” It wasn’t like I needed to hurry to an off-campus lunch at Randy’s with the cool kids. No, I’d sit out on one of the benches under the live oaks eating my bag lunch near the other happily weird loners in school. But it still annoyed me that Dax assumed his need was more important than mine. Maybe it was, but Dax DeLeon didn’t know that.
I stifled a sigh and slumped back into my chair as Dax enjoyed the red-carpet treatment from Dr. Boyd. I guess when you’re the star quarterback and the hottest guy on campus, you get used to the world revolving around you. Man, I couldn’t wait to get out of this place and into a world where my destiny wasn’t decided by some anointed clique of kids with the most “likes.”
“Chin up, Ali. Life after high school is very different.” Mrs. G gave me a soft smile and went back to her keyboard.
“That’s what I’m clinging to, Mrs. G.” Like a raft in the middle of a stormy sea. I was counting down the days. Literally.
My gaze drifted back to the poster. Mr. and Ms. Jackalope were giving bad advice. Hopping into the future was too painfully slow. I wanted to sprint into the future at full speed to get out of here faster.
Dr. Boyd’s inner-office door opened and Dax came strolling out.
“See you around,” he said, throwing me a wink on his way past.
“Doubt it.” I’d managed to avoid that whole clique of kids so far and planned on keeping it that way. #HeadDown #WorkHard #GoalOriented #HappyLoner
“Hey, Ali…” Dax paused before leaving the office, his hand on the outer office door handle and his dark eyes freezing me in my tracks halfway toward Dr. Boyd’s office.
“What, DeLeon?” I was going for impatient, but, sadly, I sounded a bit breathless and curious even to my own ears. Because the sad reality was I wasn’t immune to bad-boy jocks too hot for a nerd like me.
“Newsflash: you’re not invisible anymore.” He winked at me. “I see you.”
3
Improvise on the Fly
Dax
I left the counseling office grinning, feeling like when I ran a successful scramble play for the go-ahead touchdown in a game.
Life was a lot like football. As a quarterback, I practiced and prepared to run all the planned plays to win the game. But because life—like football—never goes according to plan, sometimes a guy had to improvise on the fly. A new opportunity opened up—and in a split second you had to decide to take it or let it go.
That was what I’d just done. To what purpose? Honestly, no idea, but I saw the opportunity and something in my gut said to grab it with both hands. At the very least, it would make this semester more interesting.
Not to be cocky or anything, but most girls giggled and fluttered their eyelashes when I met them. None of them gave me a quirked eyebrow and sarcasm. Baby? I was intrigued. Not that I was looking to start something. I wasn’t. Being with Paige last year had sucked up too much of my attention. There was too much drama in a relationship. It had been a big distraction—a distraction I couldn’t afford.
My teammates counted on me and I’d let them down last season. I’d earned the starting quarterback role after a stellar sophomore year. Last year, my play was pretty solid, up until post-season. Which was why this year I needed—and planned—to be at the top of my game. For my teammates and for the college scouts.
So, no relationships for me this football season. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t have fun, even if was just to get a rise out of Ali Frost once a day.
“Dax! Hold up!”
I turned at my friend TJ’s voice. TJ Devlin and I had given each other busted lips in some playground fight in third grade and been best friends ever since.
“You heading to Randy’s?” He slammed his locker closed and swung his backpack over one shoulder before joining me.
“Not feeling Randy’s today, you know?” He knew. He knew I’d ended things with Paige at the beginning of summer. He also knew Paige had convinced herself we were just “on a break” and had been trying to get back together ever since.
“I hear you. Come on. Let’s hit up the cafeteria.”
“On second thought…” I paused, weighing which would be worse: crappy cafeteria food or having Paige hanging on me and acting like we were still together. “We could sneak into the teacher’s lounge and grab something from their fridge.”
“And risk detention?” TJ gave my shoulder a push down the hall. “At least if we get sick, we’ll be sick together.”
“Quit pushing me, Devlin, or I’m going to tell coach I’m too hurt to practice. Then you’ll be in big trouble.”
“Oooh, I’m scared.” He wasn’t. Mostly because he knew I was BSing. It would have to be a huge deal to rat on a friend. But also, because Coach was TJ’s uncle. Coach Devlin had been a star quarterback for the Cowboys. In college he missed the Heisman by a few votes but I was fairly certain the huge, shiny Super Bowl ring he wore took the sting out of that.
Folks around town said Coach Devlin would have been a Hall of Fame player, if that one tackle hadn’t blown his knee and ended his career a decade too early. I’d watched all the films from his college and professional games and I had to agree. Jackson High School was darn lucky he decided to come back home and coach.
Heck, I was darn lucky he did and I had TJ to thank for that. Why else would some famous jock who dated models and Hollywood starlets turn down a broadcasting job rumored to have paid more than his QB salary for small town Texas? I figured to coach TJ.
“Whoa, what is that glorious smell?” TJ asked, twisting his head around toward the cafeteria with its sea of white tables and high school kids hungry enough to eat the close imitation they passed off as actual food. “Is it just me, or do you smell—?”
“Tamales.” My mouth watered just thinking about scarfing down four of them. I sniffed the air again. “Really good tamales. I swear those smell like my abuelita’s.”
“Dax! Dax! I did it! Come see!”
I recognized Kev’s voice right away. I zipped my gaze around until I spotted him. He stood—more like hopped from foot to foot—with a mega-watt smile on his face, waving his hand frantically in the air while the lunch ladies beamed at him from behind the stainless-steel counter.
Now, the fact that Kev was smiling and excited was nothing new. Kev was the student manager for the football and lacrosse teams and just about the most school-spirited student in school. Well, maybe it was a tie between him and Lacey Trueheart, president of the pep club, but I was pretty sure he even had Lacey beat.
TJ and I walked over to the food line, the spicy aroma getting stronger and more mouthwatering with each step.
“Look, Dax! Look what Kev did.” Kev stepped to the side, revealing a sweet looking lunch buffet. Tamales, rice, corn and black beans salad, chips, and all the fixings. “Your grandma’s tamales.”
I pulled my gaze from the tray of corn husk wrapped tamales and the smiling lunch ladies lined up ready to serve and over to Kev. “Your senior project? You finished it already?”
“Almost. Twenty-four recipes from students approved by Mrs. Avila. Principal Barstow said the cafeteria will use one every Wednesday. Three to go.” Kev frowned over the missing three. “There are twenty-seven Wednesdays left this year. Twenty-seven minus twenty-four equals three. Kev needs three more recipes. Three more. Three more to finish.”
“You’ll get them. Probably today once kids try the tamales and see how cool this is,” I said. “Kev, this is fantastic.”
“High five fantastic?” he asked, his eyes going even bigger as he held his palm up for me.
“Heck yes,” I said, and we high fived then did a fist bump for good measure.
“This is awesome, Kev.” TJ and Kev did the same high five, fist bump routine much to Kev’s excitement. “No one will want to go off campus for lunch on Wednesdays, that’s for sure.”
“Yay me!” Kev pumped both fists in the air over his head before turning to the buffet. “Let’s eat, guys.”
“You first, Kev.” I handed him a plastic tray from the stack next to the long stainless-steel counter before grabbing one for myself. Together we slid our divided trays down the line, watching with greedy eyes as the lunch ladies scooped food onto them.
I sat at the nearest available table, totally messing up the normal hierarchy of who sits where, because I didn’t want to walk another foot before getting the tamales into my stomach. TJ and Kev sat and the table quickly filled up with kids, mostly from the team, attacking the food like bears on a picnic basket. My abuelita’s tamales were the best.
“Mmmm,” TJ said before shoving his face back into his plate of food. “Mmhm hmmm mmmm.”
“Right? Kev, I vote you get an A+ for your project. It was genius.” I grabbed my milk, pulled the spout open, and drank it down. “What’s on the menu next week?”
“Lacey Trueheart’s dad’s veggie tofu stir fry.”
“Oh.” My excitement level for Kev’s Wednesday menu plummeted over a cliff. I’d eaten tofu once when my mom had tried to sneak it into a recipe. I grimaced at the memory.
“No, Dax. It’s good. I swear on the Jackson Jackalope playbook.” Kev held his palm up next to his head. “I taste-tested every recipe.”
“Then I’m looking forward to it,” I said, but my attention snagged on a girl walking by. Ali Frost walked behind Kev, dropped a Twinkie next to his tray, high fived the hand Kev lifted over his head without a pause, like relay runners passing a baton, and she kept right on walking—not sparing me or any of the other guys a glance. Huh.
I watched her walk away, her copper-colored hair hung in two long braids. Not a style many girls wore around school. Then again neither were her clothes, but that only made her stand out more. Funny that I hadn’t been aware of Ali Frost before but now that I’d seen her, I couldn’t help noticing her. Especially when she looked at me in Boyd’s office, hitting me with a pair of the lightest green eyes I’d ever seen.
“You’ll like it,” Kev said, tearing open the Twinkie and taking a big bite. “You too, TJ.”
“Kev, you know Ali?” I asked, causing TJ’s head to swivel sharply around to me. Just because I’d sworn all summer long that my plan was to stay single and make football my singular focus, didn’t mean I couldn’t get a little more information. It wasn’t very often that a girl could care less when I talked to her, and I was curious.
“Sure. Ali gives Kev Twinkies,” Kev said.
“Why does she
give you Twinkies?”
“Because she likes the Kev. And Kev likes Twinkies.” He was happily licking the last of the cream filling off his fingers.
“Why are you asking about Frosty?” TJ asked.
“Her name’s Ali. She doesn’t like being called Frosty.”
TJ cocked an eyebrow.
“It’s no big deal. I’ve never seen her before today and she’s…different.”
“Different how? I mean, she’s way different from Paige if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I don’t know. Just different.” Night and day from Paige and the other girls in our circle of friends. Most of my close friends were teammates since we spent hours and hours on the field together. Football players and cheerleaders always went together like Texas and cowboy boots. But something about Ali and her couldn’t-care-less attitude grabbed my attention and wouldn’t let go.
“Dude, no girls, all game.” TJ frowned and shook his head. “Does that ring a bell? We made a pact. You’ve got scouts to razzle-dazzle. Not to mention the rest of us are kind of counting on you to carry us to the state championship.”
“I know. That’s still the plan.” College scouts and the state championship. Right. I was throwing everything I had into football this season.
Ali Frost was simply a puzzle that needed solving. That was all.
4
Predators, Scavengers & Herbivores. Oh My.
Ali
Student Parking Lot, Oct 8, 7:47 a.m.
“Forty-seven days down. One hundred thirty-nine to go.” I sat in my car talking into the video of my phone for my diary. “Anxiety level: two. Today’s goal: Avoid DeLeon and his crowd. Also, I’ve got to do something about Dad. There’s no way I can go away to college and leave him alone the way he is now. I’ll have to figure something out. Positive affirmation: This day will bring me nothing but joy.”
Ali & the Too Hot, Up-to-No Good, Very Beastly Boy: A Standalone Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 1) Page 2
