Oh yeah. It’s the scarf. Boy Swap. God, this is like walking around with a freaking vacancy sign flashing over my head. You too can have Chris’s arms wrapped around you! Ew. I don’t even want to picture that. But it is what I signed up for, I guess. And I got the cute scarf. And maybe some cool new friends. And the thrill of torturing Delaney with my mere existence. Not to mention Chris looks about as interested in Blondie’s flirting as he would be in getting a flu shot. So, it will be okay. I force a smile and look up at Chris.
“I can’t wait for the party tonight,” I say, breaking the awkward silence. Chris looks instantly relieved. Like, one of those, oh-thank-god-we-don’t-have-to-get-into-an-hour-long-fight-over-why-that-girl-just-talked-to-me looks.
“Me too,” he replies.
Chapter 3: Friday Night Fights
Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp. Panthers! Panthers! Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp. Panthers! Panthers!
The stands are shaking with what looks like the entire student body stomping their feet and screaming. There is so much orange and black clothing in the stands that it looks like Halloween. No one can say the JHS students are not HUGE on school spirit.
“Ladies and Gentleman,” an announcer booms through the intercom system during half-time, “put your hands together for the Jefferson High School Marching Band, together with the Flag Corps and Dance Squad.” The stands go wild with applause and my heart speeds up as we march quickly out to our marks on the field. The realistic portion of my brain is well aware that the crowd is NOT applauding for the band or the flag corps but rather the dance squad in their micro-minis, but I like to pretend. It motivates me to give the performance my all.
We play the school song and march into various lines and circles around the field. The dancers are kicking their little brains out and the flags are twirling like windmills around the edges of our large group. The students in the stands are screaming the Panther’s fight song and making the required cat-like scratches to the beat.
“Go Panthers, Go Panthers
Growl! Growl!
Win Panthers, Win Panthers
Now! Now!
Fight for us, Win for us
We’re behind you all the way.
Go Panthers, Win Panthers
Save the day!
Growl!”
The stand erupts in cheers again as the dance squad leaves the field and we stay on to finish the rest of the half-time show. About 75% of the crowd stands up and moves toward the concession stand or bathrooms for the rest of our performance. Figures.
Once we are back in the stands and have put our instruments down at our seats, I drop my silly hat with the enormous white feather plume and run down the rows to meet up with Chris for our traditional hot chocolate break. We do this after every home game half-time show. I jump down to the final row where he’s standing and he takes my hand. We walk down the aisle toward the concession stand and I swear a couple of the dance squad girls wink at him. But maybe they are just cold from the lack of clothing and their eyes are all fluttery trying to protect their brains from freezing. There’s something good about our band uniforms after all. With a half-inch of polyester, I’m rather toasty right now.
Chris orders our hot chocolates with extra whipped cream and we go for a stroll behind the bleachers, a.k.a, one of our favorite make-out spots. I’m licking off some of the whipped cream from the top of my drink when Cassie Deegan appears in front of me in her dance squad mini-dress.
“Hi, Chris,” she says sweetly.
“Hey,” Chris says and coughs.
“Hi, Cassie,” I say cautiously. What is she doing in our make-out spot?
Delaney sidles up next to Cassie but she tilts her head back, looking up in the air like a plane show is going on or something up there. I glance up. Just the same old sky. Well, if she’s not acknowledging me then I’m sure as heck not acknowledging her.
“You did such a nice job out there, Chris. That contraption with the drums that you wear looks so heavy. And so difficult to play! I don’t know how you keep all the drums straight.”
Huh? Really? She wonders how he keeps all FOUR of the drums straight?
Chris laughs a little, obviously flattered. Um, hey buddy, girlfriend standing right next to you. Don’t encourage her.
“It’s not that hard. I practice a lot,” he says.
“Yeah,” I interrupt. “The flute is hard too. I have way more keys to remember than he has drums.” Like she cares.
Cassie eyes me as if I am totally interrupting. “You were good too, Brooke.”
“So, Chris,” Cassie starts, back in her Splenda voice and briefly touching Chris’s arm, “are you in a band outside of school?”
Does she not see me standing right here, holding hands with him? I have half a mind to go hunt down her boyfriend, Carter Jones, and rub up on him, right in front of her face. See how she likes it. Delaney rolls her eyes as she tugs her dance squad skirt a millimeter lower. Chris looks a bit uncomfortable at Cassie’s touch. At least he remembers that I’m standing here.
“Um…” he says, stammering. “I’m thinking about starting one. I mean, a couple of my friends and I mess around.”
Why hasn’t he told me about this before? I didn’t know he wanted to have his own band.
“I’d love to hear you play sometime,” Cassie says, batting her eyelashes at him. Okay, this is too much. I know my jaw must be absolutely dropped open. Cassie raises her eyebrows. She looks up at my headband and back at me again. I reach up and finger the pink scarf in my hair. Oh. That’s right. Boy Swap. Well, this kinda sucks.
I want to look confident and cool in front of Cassie and Delaney. But I’m not any of those things and this is dreadful. I turn my head quickly and look at Delaney. She’d been staring at me but she instantly turns to Cassie and tosses her hair.
“Um…” Chris says again and looks at me. Wow, he isn’t too witty when being flirted with by a pretty girl right in front of his girlfriend. “I…uh…guess you could hear us play. Brooke will come too,” he says all excited like he just thought up the best idea ever. Oh, good—I do still exist.
“What are you doing tonight?” Cassie asks.
Man, she’s like a freaking steamroller! “We’re going to the band party,” I say firmly.
“Maybe I’ll stop by.” Cassie never takes her eyes away from Chris’s.
WHAT? What would she be doing at a band party? I mean, it is for the BAND. Hence the word BAND in BAND PARTY. Chris looks at me for some kind of answer but I’m still too stunned to talk. I can see that he is totally uncomfortable and I kinda feel bad. After all, I signed him up for this, didn’t I? Oooh, I’d like to punch Cassie right in the face. But I’m sure there is some clause about violence in the agreement I signed.
“Sure,” I hear myself saying. “It’s at Katie Hodges’s house.” I can feel Chris’s stunned look but I ignore him. How would I explain?
* * *
“Chris…” I giggle as he softly kisses me on my neck, below my right ear. He knows this is a total ticklish spot on me. He moves his way across my neck, making me breath catch, and over my chin until he reaches my lips. There—even better. We kiss a few more times, his lips increasingly hard on mine, and then Chris pulls back.
“Do you need another soda?” he asks softly, shaking my empty can.
I look from the can to him. Is he really checking my drink right now? I’d better get his head more into the present activity. I slip onto his lap, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him harder on the lips. I can feel his shoulders relax and his lips open. That’s better. I don’t need his mind wandering during precious make-out time.
Chris is normally all over the PDA, but I know he gets a little uncomfortable when we are in the loft at Katie’s house. But everyone knows this is the reserved spot for couples at band parties. The single band members hang out in the living room and family room. Yeah, there are four other couples in here too, but it isn’t like anyone is paying attention to what ot
her couples are doing. Except for that one time when saxophonist Chase Daniels and Bethany Ryan, our drum major, were getting so carried away in the corner that everyone else got up and left. Ew—that was way gross. The image is still burned into my brain.
Chris is beginning his patented back rub move (rub up, rub down, repeat three times and then slip his hand under my shirt) when the music suddenly stops. The other couples in the loft momentarily pause but then resume kissing. I hear people whispering loudly to each other from below. Something is going on. I crawl to the edge of the loft and peer down. Wow. Cassie actually showed up, and with her crew in tow no less. Standing behind her are Caitlyn Ray and Amanda Montgomery. We’re talking the very tippity top of the popularity pyramid here. At least Delaney is absent. I’m sure Delaney thinks she’s too good for a band party cameo appearance.
Band members are flocking to the sides of the room like an oncoming bus is about to hit them. Which is sort of true. I know what everyone is thinking. Why are these girls at our party? They don’t belong here. This isn’t school. This is our safe place, our sanctuary, and now they’ve invaded.
Chris pats the spot next to him, indicating that I should come back. And I totally want to. But I feel like we have to get downstairs and intercept the popular girls before they get any further. It’s kinda like I’m throwing myself on the bomb to save my squad or something. Kinda.
“Um, Chris?” I say. “I think we’d better head downstairs. We’ve got company.” He looks confused. “Remember? We told Cassie Deegan she could meet us here.” Chris gives me a stunned look. Yeah, join the rest of the band. I stand up and hold out my hands to pull him up next to me.
His mouth hangs open for a moment, like he wants to protest but then says, “Uh…okay.” The other couples sitting in the loft with us are all un-lip locked now, making faces at me like my hair is on fire. All probably thinking I’ve completely lost it. Maybe I have.
We head down the stairs and Chris gives me a half grin. Ha—he probably thinks I’m the world’s coolest girlfriend. Not. I’m just contractually bound to share his love.
“Hi, Cassie,” I say, and Chris gives a little wave.
“Hi, Chris,” she says, looking right past me. Okay, no need to be rude now is there, Sister? “The party looks…” she glances around the room, “cute.”
I follow her gaze. Um, looks like a typical party to me. Music, dancing, eating, drinking, talking, flirting. I wouldn’t call it “cute.” It isn’t like everyone is wearing footie jams and toting their favorite stuffies.
Chris lets out a small nervous laugh. “Okay...” he says, obviously not getting her at all.
Cassie finally takes a moment to stare me down. But she doesn’t say anything. She eyeballs me and then glances off to the side. And then looks at me again. And looks off to the side significantly. Oh, now she is seriously being rude! She’s trying to tell me that she wants me to beat it. Grrr. This girl has such nerve. But she did just give me this nice scarf yesterday. I run my hand over the scarf still tied in my hair. It’s so silky soft. And the first rule of Boy Swap is something about not hogging your boyfriend. Fine. But I’m only leaving for a minute.
“Will you guys excuse me? I have to hit the ladies’ room,” I say, and Cassie nods eagerly. Tramp.
You know, this really isn’t that big of a deal. I’ll just go and find Lizzie and chat with her for a few and then go back to Chris. I mean, how much can Chris and Cassie have to talk about? And it is not like I don’t completely trust Chris. He would never ever cheat on me. Yeah, so Cassie is pretty. And she’s a senior. And she’s totally built. But who wants that? Well, maybe any single guy with half a brain might respond to her blatant flirting, but not my Chris. He’s all mine.
That’s the thing. I just don’t get with this whole Boy Swap idea. I don’t see how it actually works. I understand how it benefits me (scarf, popularity boost, possible new friends), but how do they actually convince the guys to swap? What if they don’t want to swap? What if they are in a totally committed relationship like Chris and I?
“Brooke, sit,” Lizzie says, interrupting my thoughts and scooting over on the couch in the living room to make room for me. I squeeze into the few inches of space and beam at the gang.
“Where’s Chris?” Lizzie asks.
“Talking to Cassie Deegan for a minute.”
Lizzie’s eyes widen as big as two 25-cent gumballs. “What? And you are talking to us…why?”
I laugh. “What do you mean? I’m talking to you because you’re my friends.”
“I mean, why are you leaving your boyfriend alone with her?”
Because I signed an agreement to share my boyfriend with any member of Boy Swap but I got this really awesome scarf.
“Why not?” I shrug. “He’s a big boy. He can talk to other girls.”
Lizzie puts the back of her hand on my forehead. “You feeling all right?”
“Stop,” I say with a giggle. “I’m fine.”
“Why are those girls at our party anyway?” Anita, a clarinet player, interrupts.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe all the really cool parties are too packed tonight?”
“I wish they’d leave,” she says. “They’re making everybody uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I agree. I wait another few minutes and then excuse myself to rejoin Chris. That is totally enough time to have been “going to the bathroom.”
As I make my way back toward the front door, I see Chris and Cassie with their heads really close together, almost touching. Caitlyn and Amanda are nowhere in sight. Interesting.
“Hey, guys,” I say in as chipper and normal a sounding voice as I can muster. “What did I miss?”
Chris turns to face me and flushes a deep shade of red. Huh. What exactly did they talk about?
“Hey, Babe,” he says, making no move to take my hand or put an arm around my shoulder
“I’d better be off. My friends are waiting for me outside,” Cassie says, winking at Chris. “Later.” She heads for the door.
“Later,” Chris says with a cough.
“Much,” I mumble under my breath.
What exactly just happened? And, if Chris would never cheat on me, why am I shaking?
Chapter 4: Relax sister!
After Cassie left the party, things went back to normal and Chris was his usual affectionate self. I never asked him what he and Cassie talked about and he never offered. I didn’t want him to interrogate me on why I let her come in the first place. I can’t imagine too much happened between them. They were only alone for a few minutes.
The next night we went to a movie and then hung out at my house. A typical Brooke and Chris Saturday night. But after I stayed up all night worrying about Chris’s behavior, I decided that I needed more information on this club I joined. Like, do we have regular meetings? And how do our boyfriends not find out that we are lending them out like library books?
It’s 5th period, Monday afternoon, and I’m in art class. Today we’re supposed to work on sketching people so our art teacher, Mr. O’Dell, told us to partner up with someone else in class. This is just the opportunity I’ve been looking for. Amanda Montgomery, fellow Boy Swap Club member, is in my class and she doesn’t have a partner yet. I sprint across the room to where she’s sitting. Normally, when asked to partner up, Amanda would work with one of the football players. She can’t be seen mixing with the semi-popular, the slightly popular, or any other unimportant people so she’d never normally work with me. But hey, I have a scarf now, so it should get me into places I didn’t get in before, right?
I stand before Amanda’s desk and she raises one eyebrow at me. I yank my scarf out of my purse and wave it in the air, like a white surrender flag. Amanda shakes her head and smirks. “Sit.”
I grab a nearby chair and sit down next to her. “Hi Amanda.”
She flashes a glance at me.
“I’m in— ”
“I know who you are,” she cuts me off. “Yo
u don’t have to announce it.”
“Oh. Well, do you want to sketch me first or shall I sketch you?”
“You can sketch me first,” she says. I open up my sketchpad and pull a pencil from my purse. I study Amanda’s face for a moment to see what I can find out about her. She’s pretty expressionless right now and her blue-gray eyes are staring back at me, unblinking. She has long, straight, honey-blond hair carefully tucked behind her ears and her skin is absolutely perfect, which is completely unfair. She’s like an after picture for Proactiv. I start drawing her eyes first.
“So,” I say, trying to think of some way to break the ice between us, “how long have you and Cassie been friends?”
“Long time. Since grade school,” she says.
Kinda like Delaney and me. Except they stayed friends and Delaney acts like she barely recollects me.
“She seems nice,” I say, working on Amanda’s right pupil.
“Uh huh.”
Hmm, Amanda isn’t so talkative.
“She likes my boyfriend huh?” I venture.
Amanda chuckles a little in response.
“How long have you been in B—”
“Shh,” she interrupts sternly, then looks around to see if anyone overheard.
“What?” I blink hard, taken aback a bit.
“Listen,” she says, leaning in, “we don’t talk about it. It just is.”
“That’s just it. I don’t get how it works. Are we going to have more meetings or something?”
“Oh my God!” Amanda draws out her words, clearly irritated. “Did you not just hear me tell you not to talk about it?”
“But—”
“No! I’m going to go work with Tony. Later.” She scoops up her things and walks away from me and toward the school’s quarterback.
I’m trying hard not to cry. Amanda was way harsh. And now I don’t have a partner to sketch. Which means I’ll probably have to work with Mr. O’Dell again and I hate working with Mr. O’Dell. I already have an abstract watercolor and a clay bust of him at home.
Just Your Average Box Set (Just Your Average Princess, Just Your Average Geek, & Just Your Average Celebrity) Page 16
