A Whole New League (Briarwood High Book 2)

by Maggie Dallen

  Back then, Brian had been friends with everyone and I had been friends with Brian. He’d been my shield. My buffer. I’d been content to bask in his shadow, so to speak. Hide behind his brightness.

  But if this was going to work, I couldn’t do that anymore. I’d have to step into the light beside him, on stage and in his world.

  But I was still me, and there had to be boundaries. I wasn’t going to suddenly become an extrovert for Brian, just like I didn’t expect him to blow off all his friends to stay home and binge-watch surreal British comedy shows with me.

  Clearing my throat, I shifted in the front seat so I could face him. “Right, so we should probably set some ground rules,” I said.

  “Ground rules,” Brian repeated as though I was speaking a foreign language.

  “Yes, ground rules. For example, I will happily come and support you at your games, but I will never wear school colors.”

  He smirked. “I would never dream of asking you to.”

  He was laughing at me, but I didn’t care. There were some things that had to be said, if for no other reason than to alleviate this nervous churning in the pit of my stomach. I nodded toward the house where his teammates were already filing in as music poured out through the open front door. “If I hate these people—”

  “You will never have to see them again,” he interrupted as he reached out to grasp my hand. His eyes narrowed with feigned anger. “If anyone in there does anything to offend your delicate sensibilities, I’ll never see them again either.” He slashed a hand across his throat. “They’ll be dead to me.”

  “You’re mocking me.”

  He arched his brows. “Of course I am. You’re being ridiculous.”

  “But what if they mock me or set me up as the butt of a joke or—”

  “I think you’ve seen too many teen movies.” He shook his head with a laugh. “These parties are typically pretty chill. Well, except for Alex and Tina and their drama, but as long as you don’t get caught up in the middle of their drama, your biggest issue will likely be boredom.”

  Now I was the one arching my brows in disbelief. “They could decide that that they hate me, Bry, and then—”

  “And then…what?” He leaned in and kissed me gently. “Look, I know you’re nervous, but most of the people in there are my friends. They’ll like you if they like me.”

  That did make me feel a little better. Still, I opened my mouth to protest and he cut me off with another kiss that temporarily made me forget my point.

  When he leaned back he cupped my face in his palms and met my gaze. “Look, it’s just a party with a bunch of people you’ve known forever. This is not Lord of the Flies.”

  My lips hitched up in a reluctant smile. “Funny you should mention that. I’m pretty sure Lord of the Flies was written as a metaphor for high school. I wrote a paper on it and everything.”

  “Are you done?”

  I sighed. “Not quite. I haven’t finished with my rules.”

  He was already getting out of the truck and heading to my side to open my door and help me out. It’s not like I was some helpless female who couldn’t get in and out on her own, by the way. This truck just happened to have been designed for giants.

  “You can tell me the rest of your rules on the way in,” he said.

  He took my hand once my feet were on the ground and I let him lead me slowly toward the front door. A popular kid’s party was pretty much everything I had tried to avoid in my high school career. And here I was willingly being led to the slaughter. I must really like this guy.

  You really love this guy.

  Okay, fine. I loved him. One thing I loved was how well he knew me. For example, he seemed to know by my sudden silence that I was crazy nervous and he squeezed my hand. “So, ground rules. Hit me.”

  Rules. Right. “Um…I will under no circumstances where your jacket, I don’t care how many letters it has on it.”

  He nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”

  We’d reached the front door and he ushered me inside. He kept a broad smile on his face as his teammates and cheerleaders shouted out his name and congratulations. But he never let go of my hand and as he led me through the crowd toward the kitchen, he leaned down. “Any more rules?”

  It was hard to think between the loud music and the cacophony of voices, not to mention the crush of people who were threatening to trample me at any moment. Brian pulled me close to his side. That helped.

  Rules, rules. I leaned in toward him. “If you’re being honored at some sort of assembly or pep rally or whatever—you will under no circumstances kiss me in front of the entire student body.”

  He laughed so hard we had to stop for a second and I stumbled into him. He wrapped his arms around me and the crowd of people suddenly didn’t seem so overwhelming. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

  Not really, but I wasn’t a big fan of PDAs in general so I shrugged. “Just want to make sure we’re on the same page. No kissing in public.”

  He nodded. “Got it.”

  I saw the mischievous laughter in his eyes and knew what he was going to do a half second before he did it.

  He kissed me. Hard and long and sweet, right there in the middle of a crowded party. But the funny thing was, just like always, the rest of the world disappeared and for the first time since we arrived, I forgot to be nervous or uncomfortable. Even at a dreaded high school party, we were in our own little world.

  When he pulled back I dimly noted that some people around us were cat-calling and whistling in response to that kiss.

  I didn’t care. I hardly noticed. I was too busy enjoying Brian’s smile and the pure joy in his eyes as he held me tight.

  “You broke a rule,” I pointed out.

  He nodded, pretending for a moment to be serious. “I know.” He leaned in so his lips were against my ear. “I’m not sorry.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes at his teasing grin. But the truth was?

  I wasn’t either.

  Epilogue

  Brian

  I broke that rule again on opening night of The Importance of Being Earnest. As soon as the bows and curtsies ended and right before the curtain dropped, I tugged Alice into my arms and kissed her for all the world to see.

  She swatted my arm afterward, but she was laughing. In fact, she’d probably been expecting it. Breaking Alice’s rules had become my new favorite pastime once football season was over. Well, breaking her rules and making out with my new, bona fide girlfriend. These were two of my favorite things. And we were bona fide. There was no “trying it out” anymore for me and Alice. She and I were together and everyone knew it.

  She’d been so worried about our worlds colliding, but honestly, it wasn’t all that difficult. I liked Julian, once I stopped being jealous of him, and she liked a few of my friends. She wasn’t exactly trying out to become a cheerleader, but she did cheer for me at pep rallies. For my part, I had much more fun being in the play than I ever would have imagined. It helped that I was on stage with Alice, and when we weren’t acting together I was watching her shine.

  And she did shine.

  Cheesy as it might sound, once Alice stepped into the spotlight, she was a natural. She took to it immediately. She’d likely never enjoy being the center of attention in real life, but on stage she was a born star. It was honestly humbling to watch her in action, and even more humbling to be coached by her. If she wanted to write plays or direct them, or even if she changed her mind and starred in them, she would be a success, hands down.

  Not to brag, but I wasn’t so bad myself in the acting department. I wasn’t going to win awards any time soon, but I hadn’t thoroughly humiliated myself or ruined the show so I called it a win.

  Alice kept joking that once we got to college she was going to turn me into a true convert and cast me in every show she directed or wrote. I wasn’t quite ready to give up athletics for drama entirely, but I was cool with finding a balance.

  That was the th
ing about this new arrangement between Alice and me. When we weren’t fully entering one another’s worlds, we met each other in the middle. We’d gotten really good at finding the middle.

  That’s how I knew we’d still work as a couple when we got to college. And yes, we were going to the same school. It wasn’t even like we’d planned it. We’d both filled out applications to Penn State before we became friends again, and definitely before we became a couple. But it made sense, really. Even as kids, that was the school we’d always said we wanted to go to. So when we both got in, it felt like it was meant to be.

  Call me a hopeless romantic—Alice definitely does—but everything about our relationship felt like kismet. Our friendship and even the break we took—it all made us the people who we were today. It helped form this oddly perfect yin and yang thing we had going on, where our strengths helped offset our weaknesses.

  She made me stronger, braver…better. And vice versa, I hoped.

  After the spring musical, I was the first to greet her when she exited the girls’ dressing room after the show. While I didn’t audition for the musical—I wasn’t kidding about not being able to sing—I had joined the crew and helped with the lights and set. But Alice? She’d been the star. I had a huge bouquet of flowers in hand and had to beat out the crowd to get to her first and tell her how amazing she’d been and how proud I was.

  She gave me a kiss right there in front of everyone. Yes, she’d long since abandoned her ground rules, but this was the first time she’d been the one to initiate PDA and it was oddly satisfying. I didn’t have a weird fetish or anything, it wasn’t about that. It was about the fact that she didn’t even seem to notice that there was a crowd of people watching us.

  When she pulled back, going back down on the balls of her feet, she laughed at my shock. “What’s that look for?”

  I leaned down. “I don’t know how to tell you this but…we’re not alone.”

  She laughed and linked her arm through mine. “Yeah, about that… I don’t think I care anymore if people see us.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m proud of us.”

  Her words warmed me, not because I’d ever thought she was ashamed of me but because it meant she’d stopped caring what people thought. I dropped a kiss on her nose. “And I’m proud of you.”

  She nudged my shoulder. “That’s only mildly patronizing.”

  I laughed as I threw an arm around her shoulders and led her through the crowd to the parking lot, where we could make out in style. “Admit it. You’re proud of me too.”

  She wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed, tucking her head against my chest in that way I loved so much. “I am proud of you. Not only did you prove that you can be amazing on stage, but you’re amazing off stage too.” She tilted her head back to look at me. “You, my friend, have become the kind of genuine, well-rounded guy I knew you were deep down.”

  It was still something I was working on but this whole acting thing had taught me something about this difference between being confident and putting on an act. Sometimes it was a fine line and I needed someone like Alice in my life to point it out.

  I tilted my chin up and thrust my chest out with pride. “See? And I’m not even going to comment on how patronizing you sounded.”

  Her laugh was infectious.

  “So where to?” I asked. “Cast party? Are we meeting Julian and Leila first?”

  She looked up at me. “Maybe we could head home for a bit before we start celebrating?”

  I kissed the top of her head. “Sounds good to me.” I liked her friends and she liked mine. Our worlds had nicely collided.

  But our favorite place? That was still in our own little world.

  Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, reviews are always welcome. If you missed the first standalone romance in the Briarwood High series, you can find it here: Out of His League

  For more YA romance by Maggie Dallen, check out her Summer Love series. Turn the page to read a sneak peek from her latest, full-length standalone novel in the series, Senior Week Crush.

  Senior Week Crush

  I’m the first to admit that I temporarily lost my mind. But really, when the guy you’ve been crushing on since forever turns your way in calculus class with that perfect smile and says, “What about you, Layla, are you going to Senior Week?”—you’re going to say yes.

  Or at least, I did.

  But try explaining that to Amy. My best friend was not having it. Backlit by the fluorescent glow of our high school cafeteria, she vaguely resembled a frizzy, red-headed interrogator as she peered at me across the aluminum table. I didn’t hold out on her. I described every minute detail as she ate her lunch of tuna on rye. I breathlessly told her everything, from the way his eyes met mine to the way he’d smiled in response to my answer.

  At the end, her response was not what I’d hoped.

  “You said yes? Why?” Her freckled nose was scrunched up in disgust like I’d just told her I’d said yes to weekly accordion lessons rather than a week of fun on the beach. I knew what she was getting at—up until that life-changing moment, I had not, in fact, planned on attending Senior Week with my peers. But he had asked. I couldn’t say no.

  Before I could explain that, her face fell and she let out a little sigh of disappointment. “Oh no….”

  Oh yes. She knew me too well. Sometimes it was annoying. It wasn’t like I expected her to jump for joy over this plan, but a little support would be nice. But Amy had never approved of my crush on Dylan Yates, my next door neighbor since kindergarten. And, in her defense, up until a week ago, it may have been a bit pathetic. But now the tides had turned. With just days remaining before graduation, the moment I’d been waiting for had finally arrived.

  What was this cataclysmic event that shifted my fate forevermore?

  Dylan and Stephanie had finally broken up.

  When they first got together, way back in the fifth grade, I hadn’t been too alarmed. Even at eleven I knew that middle school relationships weren’t destined to last long. My older sister assured me that they had the lifespan of a gnat. Everyone knew that it wouldn’t last.

  Well, apparently no one told Dylan and Steph because they stayed together—sickeningly, disgustingly, happily together—for the next seven years. Seven! Who did that? It was like they were out to set some kind of world record or something.

  But then, last week, word had spread that the epic union of Stylan had come to an end. No one knew why exactly—and quite frankly, I didn’t care. I had almost given up hope. Almost. But now was my chance. I just needed him to see me as something more than the nice girl next door. And what better opportunity than Senior Week when there would be parties and concerts and bonfires on the beach?

  If that didn’t scream romance, I don’t know what did.

  The only problem was, I hadn’t exactly planned on going. Truth be told, I’d made a bit of a stink about how lame it would be and how it was just one more way for the popular crowd to reign supreme over the rest of us losers.

  I imagine that was one of the reasons that Amy was scowling at me over her muffin.

  She was on some weird all all-natural diet that seemed to consist of a daily consumption of bizarre grains that I’d never heard of before. The other day she’d eaten a protein bar made out of cricket flour.

  I tried a bite and yes, it was just as disgusting as it sounds.

  Hopefully some of her current anger was due to the diet and not my announcement.

  “You are acting like an idiot.” Little crumbs flew out of her mouth when she spoke.

  I leaned over the table, casting a quick glance around to make sure no one could hear us. “Please, Amy. I really, really want to go.”

  It’s not like I needed her permission or anything, but I did need her car. And more importantly, her driver’s license. I was probably the only senior who didn’t drive but as far as I knew I was also the only one heading to New York City for college in the fall, and who needed to drive in the city? That
’s what subways were for.

  She set down the muffin with a little too much force and it promptly crumbled into a million pieces. “Look, even if I didn’t think this was a useless, ridiculous plan—”

  Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.

  “I still wouldn’t be able to drive you to the Jersey shore. I’m going to visit my cousins in Maryland that week, remember?”

  I fell back into my seat. Crap. I’d completely forgotten about that.

  Some of Amy’s irritation over my plan seemed to thaw in the face of my pathetic sigh.

  After a moment of silence, she offered, “Maybe one of the others is going?”

  ‘The others’ were our friends in the theater crowd. But her expression looked doubtful as she spoke and I just rolled my eyes. Out of everyone in the theater department, Amy and I were probably the least… how shall I put it? Clicky? They weren’t mean bullies or anything, they just had a tendency to stick to themselves. They were definitely not joiners.

  Not that Amy and I were social butterflies but we were slightly more well-rounded in our social lives. We were known to go to the occasional non-drama party and took part in some other clubs. Like Amy and her art class and me on the school paper. So if we hadn’t even considered going to the uber-joiner, popular-kid-getaway that was Senior Week, odds were the others hadn’t either. As a rule, our school’s arts and drama crowd tended to look down on anything that had the slightest tinge of school spirit.

  Normally, I turned my nose up at that kind of thing too, but this was different. This was my chance.

  This was fate.

  I made the mistake of using the F-word with Amy and I could see her biting her lip to keep from laughing. Taking my hands in hers, her bright red curls fell over her shoulder as she leaned in toward me. “No offense, Layla. I mean, you know I love you more than anyone in the world and I think you are the best but… if Dylan hasn’t noticed you by now, after you’ve been right in front of his face his entire life, what makes you think he’ll notice you now?”