Falling for Ben & Other Impossible Things (Garcia Brothers Book 1)

by Yesenia Vargas

  And I didn’t want to keep asking him about his grade on that paper, as much as I was dying to know.

  So I shut my locker and went about my day.

  I’d find out sooner or later.

  Just before lunch, my phone buzzed.

  I pulled it out, expecting a text from Mom or maybe Lily with a cheer update or reminder.

  But instead, it was Ben.

  Ben: Hey. Where are you?

  For a second, I wondered if that text was meant for me. I half expected him to send a “sorry wrong person” text after that, but none came.

  I tapped out a response.

  Scarlett: My locker. Near the gym.

  He didn’t reply back after that.

  A couple of minutes later, I stood at my locker, my backpack on my shoulders. I hung onto the straps, waiting for Ben to come around the corner.

  I assumed he was meeting me. After checking the time on my phone and realizing I was supposed to be headed toward my next class, I bit my lip. Perhaps I needed to text him back and let him know that I was going to be headed towards trig.

  But before I could, he came down the hall.

  It was impossible to read him. His expression was neutral, his eyes not giving anything away. Like usual.

  He came up to me, a stapled and folded essay in his hands. Still, he didn’t say anything, and I began to think that maybe he hadn’t gotten the grade he needed. That maybe we’d done something wrong, missed something important.

  I couldn’t take the silence any longer. He needed to look at me and tell me what was going on. “So?” I managed. “Did you get a B?”

  That’s when he gave a slight shake of his head, biting his lip.

  I took the paper from him, immediately unfolding it to see if he had missed getting a B by a few points or what.

  A large red A-minus stared back up at me.

  What? But…

  My head snapped back up.

  A wide smile now covered Ben’s face. “A minus,” he said, beaming.

  I laughed, mostly in relief for him. “Wow, this is amazing,” I cried, looking back down at the paper. Then I punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You really had me for a second!”

  He laughed too. “Sorry. Had to do it.”

  “It’s okay,” I replied. I went back to the paper, noticing how few red marks there were on this one compared to the original one. “I guess she loved it.”

  “Pretty sure those were her exact words, actually,” he said, turning so he stood next to me as I flipped through the essay.

  I noticed the smiley face beside the conclusion and another one on the Works Cited page.

  “I don’t think she’s ever given me a smiley face on anything,” he joked.

  I looked up at him and handed him the paper back. “So you get to play tonight?”

  He stuck the paper in his backpack. “Yeah, and it’s all thanks to you,” he said, not looking away for a second while he said it.

  Fighting the instinct to look away myself, I grinned. “You’re the one who did all the work. I just nudged you in the right direction is all.”

  Ben scoffed. “I couldn’t have done this without you. If it hadn’t been for all your help with…everything in that paper, I wouldn’t be on the team again. So thank you.”

  Now I beamed. “You’re welcome.”

  I didn’t expect what came next. I blinked and then his arms were around me, his backpack still on the floor in front of him.

  Slowly, I put my arms around him too, not believing that Ben was actually giving me a hug.

  Then the moment was over.

  He pulled his backpack on. “See you at tonight’s game?” he asked.

  “Kinda have to be,” I said with a small laugh. “But yeah.”

  “Good,” he replied, the corner of his mouth turning up into a grin, and once again, I almost floated away with hearts for eyes like in cartoons.

  He began to walk away and then I remembered that I had something to give him.

  “Wait,” I called. “I almost forgot.”

  I set down my backpack and pulled out a bag of brownies. “These are for you.” Inside, there was a note of encouragement. A short and funny poem, really, that I hoped gave the world one of his rare full-on smiles.

  “Thanks,” he said. “These won’t kill me, will they?”

  That made us both laugh. I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” I teased. “But you’ve got your epipen, right?”

  There was that full-on smile I loved. “Just as long as you don’t tackle me again.”

  16

  That night at the game, Ben seemed different.

  Good different.

  Carried himself different.

  Held his head high and his eyes just seemed…happier.

  When the announcer called out his name, I landed a perfect round-off on the sidelines. Then I raised my pom-poms and yelled for him, along with everyone else.

  Usually, he didn’t do much when his name was called. Some of the guys did a funny dance or they waved.

  Tonight, Ben turned toward the sidelines where the cheerleaders stood at the ready.

  His gaze stopped on me, and I froze, my wide smile faltering.

  He gave me a grin, then he winked before turning back to his coach.

  Rachel nudged me so hard I about fell right over.

  “Oh my gosh!” she screamed. “Did I just see what I thought I saw?”

  I turned to her, in disbelief myself. “I don’t know,” I said. “Did you?”

  She screamed, and I found myself screaming along with her.

  Lily gave us this look like, “Get it together,” so we stopped and got back in our spots.

  The game was about to start.

  Rachel leaned toward me. “I called it! I swear I did. Ask Audrey and Nora later.”

  She looked like she had just won the lottery.

  “He’s just happy he’s playing tonight,” I fired back. But I couldn’t help but keep smiling a cheddar-level cheesy smile.

  “Oh, he’s happy, alright,” Rachel replied. “Happy a certain someone moved to Jefferson. I have never seen Benjamin Garcia give any girl that kind of attention.”

  I glanced at Ben, the butterflies in my stomach feeling more like helicopters.

  Was she right?

  I wasn’t gonna lie. A big part of me wanted her to be right, wanted Ben to like me like me.

  But I also didn’t want to get my hopes up.

  Because until he said or did otherwise, we were just becoming friends and nothing more.

  The first thing I’d found out about him was that he didn’t date.

  Never had.

  What would make him change his mind now?

  I was just your average girl, the new girl.

  And I needed to keep this crush under control.

  I turned my attention to the game that was now starting.

  Before long, Ben had scored an incredible touchdown, catching an impossible pass and diving into the end zone.

  The crowd went wild, and so did we.

  The girls threw me into the air.

  It wasn’t long before Ben helped score another touchdown.

  And in the second half, another one.

  When the boys finally came off the field, the coach patted Ben on the shoulder and gave him the winning ball.

  Then several players came up behind the coach with a giant cooler of Gatorade, dumping the entire thing on his head.

  Ben leaped out of the way just in time.

  Meanwhile, I followed Rachel onto the field.

  I felt more exhausted than ever. It had been a long game, but a good game, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there, grab something to eat and crash into bed.

  Someone’s hand touched my shoulder.

  It was Ben.

  “You killed it out there tonight,” I told him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “But I would’ve been sitting on the bench the entire time if it hadn’t been for you. So here.”
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  He handed me the game ball.

  Our fingers touched for a second. His strong hands dwarfed mine.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “I mean, this is special. You should keep it.”

  He shook his head. “I want you to have it.”

  I didn’t know what to say after that, but I was careful not to let me eyes turn into hearts in front of him. Tried to keep my smile to more of a swiss-level type cheese instead of full-on cheddar.

  He smiled. “Anyway, it can serve as a reminder,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he went on. “A reminder of the time I almost died because of you.”

  I almost died laughing.

  “And then how you saved my butt in history after that to make up for it,” he said. “I mean, if you think about it, if it hadn’t been for those death cookies, I might not have gotten this ball anyway.”

  “Well,” I replied. “When you put it that way…”

  He smiled. Took another step closer.

  His eyes locked on mine, and all of a sudden, I forgot how to breathe properly.

  Was it me or did he want to…

  A loud and high-pitched voice jarred us back to Earth. “Excuse me, Benjamin Garcia?”

  We both turned to find a very skinny girl with a large camera standing about two feet away.

  How long had she been there?

  She held up her camera? “Can I get a picture for the school paper, please?” she asked, sounding like she might hyperventilate.

  I could relate…

  Ben nodded. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  Just like that, he put his arm around me, without standing too close.

  Girl with Camera glanced between me and Ben for a second, and I realized she meant just a photo of Ben. But she gave a slight shrug and snapped a photo, the flash making my head spin.

  “Thanks!” she chirped before running off.

  I turned back to Ben, but the moment was long over.

  “See you at Ryan’s party later?” he asked.

  Not sure what party he was talking about but making a mental note to ask Rachel, I held onto the football. “Definitely.”

  Ben opened his mouth like he might say something, but all that came out was, “Sounds good.”

  Then he was off, a couple of the guys from the team practically engulfing him and clapping him on the back.

  I stood there, wondering what Ben had been about to say but mostly ecstatic about said party.

  17

  As I walked into school a week later, I double-checked my gym bag, making sure I had my entire cheer uniform.

  We had a big pep rally later, and I could not afford to forget a single thing.

  Bow, top, skirt. Shoes.

  Socks… socks?

  Oh, I had them on.

  I bumped into someone at the doors. “Sorry,” I called quickly before rushing in.

  For a second, I thought back to Mom. She’d been acting a little weird all morning.

  I made a mental note to send her a quick text when I got to first period. Maybe she was having a tough day. It had been a while before I’d had one of those, but sometimes they just hit. I knew them well.

  My phone buzzed.

  It was Lily, reminding us to get to the pep rally no less than 30 minutes early so we could practice our routine. She and Coach Collins expected nothing short of perfection, and I did not want to be the one person who flubbed a stunt or forgot a move.

  Not after the endless hours of cheer practice, not stopping until we had absolutely nailed every single move.

  I yawned as I arrived at my locker.

  Plus I had a huge math test later. I’d been up late working on the study guide, trying to figure out trig problems that made me want to tear the whole thing in half.

  I wondered briefly if Ben was good at math…

  It would be fun to be tutored by him.

  I shook my head, remembering that I was supposed to be grabbing books and dashing off to first period.

  As if on cue, the warning bell went off.

  I really needed to get to class.

  After running most of the way there, I made it just in time.

  Ms. Collins shut the door behind me. “Good morning, Scarlett. I’m glad you could join us today.”

  A few kids snickered, and I fought back an eyeroll. My head kind of hurt. I was not in the mood.

  After making it through Human A&P, I dragged myself through another several classes. After lunch, I had math. But today it was going to be cut short due to the big pep rally at the end of the day.

  It was in the middle of the test that it hit me.

  Why Mom had seemed off this morning.

  What today was.

  I realized in the middle of my math test that I’d forgotten to name and date my paper.

  Mrs. Arnold always wrote it on the whiteboard so I glanced up because I could hardly remember what day of the week it was.

  October twenty-third.

  I blinked, making sure I’d read that right.

  I had.

  My pencil fell from my hand, and the room spun around me.

  It felt difficult to breathe.

  Had I really forgotten the anniversary of Dad’s passing?

  I stared down at my desk in complete disbelief.

  After that, I found my legs moving, carrying me toward the door.

  “Scarlett? Where are you going?” I heard the teacher say. “We’re in the middle of a test.”

  I hardly stopped, pulling open the door with such force that it flew back and hit the wall behind it.

  But I was already gone.

  That’s when my brain caught up.

  Where was I going?

  I had no idea.

  I just knew I had to get out of there, get away, think.

  Be alone for a few minutes. Close my eyes, and…

  The tears spilled down my cheeks as I ran into the girls’ bathroom down the hall. I walked into the farthest stall, locked it, and pulled down the toilet cover so I could sit.

  My head went to my lap, my hands over my face as I tried to contain the semi truck full of emotions that had hit me.

  It wasn’t long before Steph, one of the girls from cheer, came in, asking if I was okay and saying that Mrs. Arnold was worried about me.

  Something about going back to finish my test.

  “Um,” I tried, using every ounce of energy to make my voice sound normal. “Tell her I don’t feel well. I’m gonna go to the nurse’s office.”

  I called out to her before I heard her steps fade away. “Steph? Can you bring me my stuff, please?”

  “Sure thing,” she said, and she was off, the sound of the door closing echoing throughout the stalls.

  I went back to crying, trying to get as much of the hurt and pain out as possible before she was back.

  There was guilt for forgetting about Dad on today of all days. Guilt for not remembering and giving mom a reassuring hug before work.

  I’d hardly said goodbye that morning before jumping out of the car.

  The tears came harder at the thought of her crying at work, thinking that I didn’t care. That I cared more about stupid cheer, about this pep rally today.

  Then the memories began playing in my head.

  The day I came home from school, and as soon as I’d walked in the door, I knew something had gone terribly wrong.

  My mom’s face crumpling the second she saw me. My grandmother, wrapping her arms around her and then beckoning to me.

  The sound of the door shutting closed again had me holding my breath so Steph wouldn’t hear me crying. I pulled a giant wad of toilet paper from the roll and wiped my nose.

  A familiar but unexpected voice reached me. “Scarlett, what’s wrong?” It was Rachel.

  Her white sneakers were just on the other side of the stall.

  I shook my head. “Nothing,” I managed.

  “It’s not nothing,” she said. Her voice came out soft, l
ike she was afraid I might break.

  Trouble was, I already had.

  After a moment, she added, “Will you open the door, please?”

  I stared up at the ceiling. That was actually the last thing I wanted to do. Have her look at me like this. Have to tell her why I looked like this.

  “Please, Scarlett? The teacher said I had to come get her if you didn’t,” Rachel said.

  The way she said it, I could tell she wasn’t lying and it killed her to have to make me open the door.

  Slowly, I stood up and looked at the lock.

  My fingers went to it and paused before finally sliding it open.

  I stepped out, my gaze on the floor.

  Rachel immediately hugged me. “Oh, Scarlett. What happened?”

  That only made me start crying again. The fact that I could tell she cared plus the thought of explaining.

  I cried for several minutes, letting Rachel hold me while my shoulders racked and the sound of my sobs filled the bathroom.

  She rubbed my back and said nothing.

  Finally, because I knew class would be ending soon and I didn’t want a bunch of animated girls walking into find me crying my eyes out, I took a step back.

  Still refusing to meet her eyes, I looked down at my hands instead. “Today,” I sniffed, “is the anniversary of my dad’s death, and…I forgot.” My mouth turned down, and fresh tears filled my eyes.

  Rachel took my hands. “Come here.” She hugged me again. “Don’t let this mean what you’re making it mean, okay? You don’t love him any less,” she said. Then she added, “Or your mom.”

  All I did was cry some more.

  “Promise me,” she said, holding my face in her hands. “We’ve only been friends for a couple of months, but I know you, Scarlett Moore. Promise me you won’t beat yourself up over this. No more, okay?”

  I shut my eyes, fighting back the painful frog in my throat. I managed to nod a couple of times.

  She handed me several paper towels. I wiped away the tears as best as I could and my nose again. Then Rachel grabbed more paper towels and dabbed at my eyes. She grimaced a little.

  “Do I look like a rabid raccoon?” I asked.

  She gave me a brief smile. “Maybe not rabid, but we will need to re-do your make up.” She paused. “Unless you’d rather go home? Coach, everybody, would understand.”