by Rachel Jonas
Probably.
Maybe.
Anyway, the production finally ends, and we move into a speech about how we’re expected to conduct ourselves should tonight’s big game be a win. The usual—no excessive celebrating on the field or any other displays of poor sportsmanship. Of course, we’re gonna win. With four games under our belts in four weeks, it’s inevitable.
Next, Harrison starts in on the rules for tomorrow night’s dance. He starts with ‘no twerking, no bumping and grinding’—his words, definitely not mine—and ‘no smoking on the premises’. In short, I’m positive everyone’s tuning him out right now. We’ll do all those things and he won’t do shit about it.
I zone out and scan the crowd, and it doesn’t surprise me when my gaze lands on Southside. She’s watching me, too, and damn if I’m not still thinking about her storming into the locker room a couple weeks ago. I’d never been naked in a girl’s presence without things escalating. Definitely had never had one walk out on me, leaving me hanging.
Literally, in this instance.
But Southside isn’t like other girls. For one, I’ve never hated and wanted someone at the same time. She’s the ultimate forbidden fruit. The one I’ve sworn off.
An innocent smirk touches her soft, pink lips and I hate that I know how they feel. Hate that I’ve wanted to have them on mine again more times than I can count.
She stands and my brow tenses. In the middle of Harrison’s speech, she walks down the bleachers, and then as soon as she makes it down to the floor, my eyes are glued to her ass. It’s round and perfect and …
Shaking my head, I get my thoughts straight. She doesn’t get to do that, distract me from hating her. Not when I have such a good reason behind it.
She casts a look over her shoulder and it lands right on me. That sassy up-to-no-good grin is still there and if I weren’t standing at the center of attention right now, I’d see what she was up to.
She disappears and Rodriquez follows right behind her. There still hadn’t been any repercussion for the stunt I pulled with her car a couple weeks ago and I can admit I’ve been on edge ever since. She doesn’t take anything lying down, which, if I’m being honest, I find hot as hell. Even if it’s also her most annoying trait.
Whatever the case, I’m stuck standing here, playing the part of North Cypress royalty. Smirking to myself, I’m positive she’ll soon be evening the score, and I’ll know soon enough.
If I’m right, she already knows I’ll be giving that shit right back to her.
Blue
I haven’t felt this good in a really, really long time. Driving down my street, it even seems prettier than usual. Maybe it’s the changing leaves or the Halloween decorations all the neighbors put out the first day of October, but I’m definitely in a great mood, seeing my surroundings in brighter colors.
Then again, it could have something to do with the two garbage bags in my backseat, knowing I just scored myself a huge win.
Getting to witness the outcome of my well-played move during tonight’s game will be the icing on top. The thing that makes what I risked today all worth it.
I tap the brake and turn into my driveway, only to find someone else parked in my spot. Ricky’s posted against his sleek, black motorcycle, both arms crossed over his chest. His gaze is locked on me through my windshield, but his expression’s hard to read.
Killing the engine, I climb out and approach him with caution. I never did get around to apologizing after our last conversation, when he showed up during the game a few weeks ago. Since then, the tension between us has only grown. So, standing face-to-face with him now, I feel super awkward.
“Hey,” I say a little quieter than usual. And a little less sassy, too.
He nods but doesn’t return the greeting. Instead, his gaze lowers to where I have my thumbs hooked on both pockets of my jeans. When his eyes narrow, I look there, too.
“Art class?” he asks, referring to the pink spray paint staining my fingers.
I tuck them behind my back and feel grateful he was the only one who noticed. Would’ve sucked if someone else had peeped the evidence tying me to what I’d done.
“Uh … no. Not exactly,” is the only answer I give. “What’s up? Why’d you stop by?”
His gaze flashes to mine again and his head cocks. “Why am I always here?”
Rolling my eyes, I move to step past him. “I’m not doing this with you anymore, Ricky. I ca—”
“Blue, he’s out of here in less than a week,” he cut in. “If you don’t go now, you’re gonna be making an eight-hour drive north if you ever want to see him. And you and I both know that ain’t gonna happen. Not if you aren’t even willing to drive thirty minutes.”
A breeze sweeps past then and I hug myself through my hoodie, thinking deeper.
“Trust me,” Ricky continues. “If I could drag out of Hunter whatever it is he needs to say to you, I would’ve done it already. But he isn’t talking. Not to me. Not about that, anyway.”
My gaze shifts toward the house where I know Scar is waiting inside. I’ve made it my business to spend more time with her, which means making time for Hunter is even more of a challenge, but … he’s family, too.
I meet Ricky’s gaze and I don’t miss how differently he’s looking at me. It’s not like usual. If I’m not mistaken, he has his guard up with me, which has never been the case.
“I can’t go this evening,” I share, giving in. “But I’ll make time tomorrow morning.”
He does that thing with his brow again, where it creases in the middle.
“You got something more important to do?” There’s judgement in his tone, and I feel it.
“There’s a school thing I have to attend, but I don’t work in the morning. I can head out to see him then,” I answer.
It’s not until Ricky lowers his gaze, shaking his head, that I think I’ve figured out what his problem might be.
“Let me guess,” he grumbles. “Can’t afford to miss your boyfriend’s game. Am I right?”
I can’t even begin to explain all the things wrong with that statement, but I’m going to start with it being none of his business where I’m going or why I’ll be there.
“You and I aren’t together, Ricky. Have you forgotten that?”
There’s a humorless smirk on his lips when he answers. “Nah, I’m pretty sure I got that message.”
For so many reasons, I don’t have time for this. When I finally push past him, he’s on my heels.
“This isn’t like you, Blue. Never known you to be some dude’s doormat. And if I’m being honest,” he adds, “it’s not a good look.”
Feeling heat sweep up my spine, I turn to face him.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He rubs a hand down his goatee and looks everywhere but at me. “I saw the update about him leaving your car on bricks,” he shares. “Now, you’re putting Hunter on hold to show up at this asshole’s game? Shit just doesn’t add up.”
I’m so sick of people assuming they have me pegged. Only, Ricky being one of those people is completely new to me.
“For your information, dickhead, the thing I have to do at school is for Journalism Club,” I admit through gritted teeth. “Yes, I have to be at the game, but only because I’m required to submit pics from every home event, and it just so happens that tonight’s Homecoming game is on Cypress Prep’s field. Is that okay with you? Or do you need me to make a presentation on what my entire schedule is looking like this week?”
I sense it the moment he backs down, realizing he messed up. Now that I’ve gotten my point across, I steer my angry glare from him and take a breath.
“I didn’t mean to piss you off,” he concedes. “It’s just that, when I saw what he did, and knowing you’re supposed to be together or whatever, I just—”
I don’t have anything else to say and it seems he doesn’t either. I’m simply counting down the days until I can put high school behind me and move on with m
y life. The drama is exhausting. Drama I desperately tried to avoid, might I add.
“I um … I showed up at the school that day,” Ricky eventually admits. “As soon as I saw the post about what happened. But the lot was clear when I got there, so I figured I just missed you.”
My eyes dart to him and, for obvious reasons, I’m not glaring quite as coldly as before.
“Not sure which I planned to do first—put the tires on for you or beat that guy’s rich ass, but … I just knew I should be there.”
It’s things like this that make me forget why I ever put distance between us, but one glance at the tattoos on his knuckles—a reminder of the crew he hangs with—and I remember.
When it came down to choosing me or embracing the lifestyle here in South Cypress, I never stood a chance of winning that battle.
“You shouldn’t worry so much about me,” I say calmly, which brings his eyes to mine. “We’ve got bigger problems than that.”
His brow quirks. “Like?”
I take a deep breath and glance toward the house to make sure the windows are closed so Scar doesn’t overhear.
“Has Shane … said anything to you lately? About anything major?”
Ricky’s thoughtful for a moment, and then shakes his head. “Nothing that stands out. Why?”
I swallow hard before speaking. “A couple weeks ago, the day of the whole … tire thing,” I explain, “I came home and found Scar and Shane in her bed together. And they weren’t taking a nap.”
Ricky’s expression is blank, and then he stares off, gazing down the alley instead of at me.
“Damn…”
I breathe deeply. “Precisely my thoughts.”
I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I’m sure he’s at least as shocked as I was.
Well, maybe not as shocked. Seeing as how I was the one with a ringside seat of the whole thing.
“I’ll talk to him,” he promises. “And I’ll tell him not to come around anymore.”
“It’s probably best that he wait until I’m home, but I don’t think keeping them apart indefinitely is the answer. With our luck, that’ll only push them together,” I say with a quiet laugh that has him smiling. “They’re friends before they’re anything else, so … I think it’s just on us to steer them in the right direction, explain why moving too fast too soon isn’t healthy.”
He nods. “I can agree with that.”
“And in case you’re wondering, they were careful all three times.”
“Three?” He flashes a surprised look my way.
I nod. “Three. After we talked things out, she showed me the box of condoms she had hidden under her bed to ease my mind. I counted and only three were missing, so she didn’t lie about anything.”
When I peer up, I’m shocked to see Ricky smiling even bigger than before.
“What could you possibly be smiling about right now?”
He shrugs and his dimples deepen. “It’s just crazy how you Riley girls seem to be me and my brother’s weakness.”
I roll my eyes playfully and start up the steps of the back porch. “On that note, I’m going inside. Gotta grab Scar and Jules before the game starts. And I guess washing my hands wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”
Glancing down, I observe the pink paint I’m still sporting.
Ricky’s gaze lingers on me, and he nods. “Yeah, you do that. And if you need someone to vent to after seeing Hunter tomorrow, you know how to get a hold of me.”
“Ok,” I answer, but as he’s walking away, I stop him to say more. “I haven’t said it lately, and I know I’ve been kind of a bitch to you these past few months, but … thank you for being such a good friend.”
The smile reappears and so do the dimples. “Anytime. You know that.”
@QweenPandora: Well, lovelies, members of this year’s Homecoming Court have been decided, and I don’t think the nominees were a surprise to anyone. It looks like PrincessParker has been given a chance to make another move on KingMidas, especially since there seems to be a bit of trouble in the paradise he’s carved out with NewGirl. Speaking of, NewGirl, what gives? This pic surfaced of you chatting it up with SeXyBeAsT in your driveway. Keeping secrets, are we? Guess we’ll have to stay tuned to see what happens next.
Later, Peeps!
—P
Chapter 24
BLUE
We make the ride back to school with the windows up. The temp has dropped quite a bit since school let out. Scar and Jules are just as bubbly about being here as before, but neither has said a word to me about West. They had plenty of questions when they first heard he’d vandalized my car—via Pandora, of course—but I sidestepped each one until neither Scar nor Jules knew what to make of it. For now, no one has any idea how volatile things between us really are.
Even then, people aren’t sure what to believe.
Had West really done it? Or was it someone else?
Those are the whispers on the wind. Some assume it’s the result of a nasty fight that has since blown over. Which, ironically enough, has led them to believe West and I are more serious than anyone originally thought. However the heck that happens. Others question whether it has all been some sort of bitter retaliation on Parker’s part, for me stealing her guy or some shit like that. Guess this is what happens when there aren’t any pics, but only eye-witness accounts.
I’m sure the reason there are no pics is because whoever saw West tampering with my car was too afraid of him to take any.
Either way, whatever conclusions people have drawn, they’re wrong. That’s all I know.
I catch myself smiling when I turn into the lot, thinking of what I pulled off earlier, and also praying I covered all my tracks.
Scar looked at me like I was crazy when I went back to my car after scrubbing spray paint off my hands, then came into the house dragging two garbage bags filled with the football team’s extra pants. I’d return them eventually, but for now they’re mine.
I snagged them from the storage room in the field house during the pep rally. Actually, Lexi did that part, when she decided I had too much to lose if I got caught. Whereas she, on the other hand, could use the few days off if she got suspended over this. So, while she did her part, I did mine.
Which everyone attending this game will see soon enough.
I spot her just after I park, and the lot is already full. This year, the athletic department decided to hold the game earlier in the day, so students could just stick around after school to make sure the stands are at max capacity.
Good for optics. Good for funding.
Lexi waves me down and I usher Scar and Jules that way, introducing the three for the first time. Lexi admits she usually avoids these kinds of gatherings like the plague, but tonight’s extra special.
“Jules, Scar, this is Lexi. The one good thing about this godawful place,” I add.
Jules rolls her eyes, likely thinking I’m exaggerating, but she has no idea.
“Hey,” she says with a bright smile.
To which Lexi responds with a nod. “Hey.”
Scar waves and the next second, we’re on our way to the bleachers. My heart’s racing a mile a minute, but I play it cool. The crowd is already fired up, and there’s standing room only. However, our seats are reserved with a laminated sign for members of the paper.
Guess there’s one perk.
The crowd goes wild when the announcers talk over the loudspeaker, getting everyone hyped up about tonight’s big game.
The dance squad do their part to get fans riled up as well, and I’m holding my breath at the sight of the first black and gold helmet that takes the field. My eyes are glued to them all, waiting for West to make his appearance, and as expected, he’s last in line.
Then, a hush comes over the crowd when they lay eyes on him. Quiet murmuring follows as confusion spreads. My guess is they’re staring at the bright pink letters painted vertically down West’s pants that read: BITCH.
Seeing him out there
, wearing my handiwork, I can’t possibly be more satisfied. It was the perfect storm. First, with the earlier than usual game time preventing anyone from coming to West’s rescue with a spare pair, and Lexi’s willingness to steal the extra uniform pants from the storage room, West was left with two options.
Sit this one out … or let the world know what he really is.
My bitch.
It takes everything in me not to glance over toward Lexi and smile. Especially when Scar starts asking questions about who would do such a thing. Jules passes me a knowing look, though, then lifts a hand to cover her laugh.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it appears we have a wardrobe malfunction of some sort on our hands,” one announcer explains.
I snort then. Can’t help it. While I would’ve liked for this to have stolen just an ounce of West’s confidence, it clearly has not. His head is still just as high as always, and he doesn’t look any less focused. But it wasn’t about that. This move was simply about me getting the win. And thanks to being on the newspaper, it will be memorialized.
Raising my phone, I snapped a pic. Whether I’m allowed to publish this baby or not, this is definitely my best scoop yet.
Cypress Prep sweeps the opposing team, like everyone knew they would. All with their beloved QB-1 sporting my pink paint job the entire game.
At one point, a woman I guessed to be his mother arrived with spare pants, but shaking his head, West refused them. Being the cocky bastard I’ve come to know him to be, it was probably a power play. His attempt at proving to me that I hadn’t gotten to him. A chance to show me that what I’d done couldn’t stop him being a beast on the football field.
Whatever the case, seeing how unshaken he was out there, still making plays with confidence, I liked it a little more than I should have.
Because I’m an idiot.
Scar’s already making her way back to the car, clutching her phone close to her face while she texts. Probably Shane, which is something I’ve been keeping a close eye on. Jules spots a couple girls she knows from volleyball, so it’s just me and Lexi, silently stewing in satisfaction for having pulled this whole thing off without a single hitch.
