“Pretzel Logic. You should stop by. She’ll give you free stuff, if you’re nice.”
“I’m always nice.” I made myself sound offended.
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Is this still about the Bird Brain thing? That was years ago, BB.” I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, hoping she was smiling. She was.
“No, I’m over that,” she said. “But…. you’ve never really been nice to me. You’ve just kind of ignored me.”
She looked embarrassed, like maybe she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“Whatever,” she continued, her words coming out in a rush. “You can’t be friendly to everyone. Who has time? But…” Her voice trailed away.
“But what?”
“The few times you did acknowledge me, you made fun of me.”
I didn’t make fun of people. It was against my code. I teased people, yeah, but never in a mean way. Most people liked being on the other side of the Slade mock. I racked my brain. I couldn’t think of anything other than the Bird Brain nickname.
“Name one time,” I said, feeling defensive and guilty.
“Last year in bio. You totally made fun of my binder.”
If I’d known how much havoc that binder would eventually wreak in my life, I’d probably have teased her even more.
“Huh,” I said. “Must’ve been a slow day for me to make fun of something so innocuous.”
I met her eyes, grinning, and she raised her eyebrows.
“Another SAT word.” She watched me closely. “Impressive.”
I focused back on the road, shifting gears sooner than I needed to. Did she think I was dumb? That shouldn’t surprise me; a lot of people did. I thought of Dad, and snarky comments he’d made about someday letting people know how smart I was.
He didn’t get why I didn’t follow the brainiac track. Mom got it, but I sensed even she was losing patience with me, now that college was looming. She’d pushed me hard to take the nanny gig, and she bugged me about it constantly, asking how it was going, pumping me for details.
“Anyway,” I said, taking the exit toward Funland, “sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to.”
“There was also the time you made fun of me for handing out flyers for boycotting Burger Bandit.”
We pulled into the parking lot and the kids unbuckled themselves faster than Trina and I did. I sort of remembered Trina’s boycott. Something about workers not being paid overtime? I focused on wrangling the kids while Trina opened the trunk.
“I don’t think we need their stuff. We’re just playing mini-golf.”
“You never know.” She retrieved the kids’ backpacks.
She’d be a great Eagle Scout.
The kids jumped up and down, totally spazzing out. I glared at them. “Max. Gilly. Freeze.”
“Geez, relax dude,” Trina said, smirking.
I stared at her. “You’re telling me to relax?”
A tiny smile played at her lips. “Yep. You should try it sometime. There’s this guy I know who’s always chilling. He thinks everything’s a joke. You could learn a thing or two from him.” Her smile deepened, then she grabbed Gilly’s hand and took off for the ticket window.
I stared after her until Max tugged at my hand. “Come on, Slade. They’re getting ahead of us.”
I blinked like someone slapped me. “You’re right, buddy. Let’s show them who’s the real boss.” I grabbed his hand and we took off running, cutting in front of Trina and Gilly at the ticket window.
“Hey!” Gilly yelled. “No fair. No cuts allowed.” She stomped her foot.
Trina cocked an eyebrow. “It’s okay, Gillian,” she said. “We’re going to play girls against boys today. And we’re going to win.”
I took two putters from the ticket guy and turned back to Trina. “In your dreams, BB.”
“Yeah,” Max echoed. “In your dreams, BB.”
Trina’s eyes widened, then she laughed, reaching out to tousle Max’s hair. Damn her for smiling and laughing like that. The thought of kissing those cherry lips popped back into my mind. I turned away, grabbing golf balls for Max and me.
This was going to be a long day if my stupid imagination kept spewing out images I didn’t want to consider—would not, could not consider.
Gilly tried to climb everything in sight, including the small tower with the windmill spinning on its turret. Max decided it was easier to roll his ball like he was bowling, rather than hit it with the club. Trina and I kept score for ourselves. She was surprisingly competitive, which, unfortunately, made her even more attractive to me.
“I play to win, Edmunds,” she told me on the first hole.
We were tied as we reached the last hole. I convinced Max and Gilly to have a silent contest. Kids yelling didn’t usually faze me, but I wanted to win. I sank my shot in two.
Trina crouched at the tee box, pointing her club like she was lining up for the tournament-winning shot at Augusta. She wore a red tank top, shorts, and flip-flops. When she stood up to make her shot, I noticed the awesome legs again.
Damn it. I was going to kill Alex. It was his fault that Trina was pinging my hookup radar. If he hadn’t suggested she was “visually interesting,” and made that stupid party girl bet with me, I never would’ve noticed.
Trina’s golf club thwacked her red ball, which shot straight under the bridge, rolled off the ledge, then headed right for the hole. The ball wobbled on the lip of the cup, then dropped in.
“Hole in one!” Trina yelled, jumping up and down. When she turned around, it was like she’d transformed into a totally new person, beaming and laughing. I stood frozen as she ran over to high five Gilly and Max, who’d broken their vows of silence to cheer her.
I couldn’t stop staring. I couldn’t move, either, because what I really wanted to do was wrap her in my arms and kiss her. Hard.
Shit. And double shit.
She bounced over to me, still laughing. “Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser, Edmunds.”
I glanced at her, afraid to do anything that would betray me. My forced smile was an epic fail. Her face, which had been glowing just seconds earlier, paled as she turned away. I felt awful, but no way could I let her guess what I was feeling.
Trina and the kids traipsed off to the clubhouse while I stayed where I was, wondering what to do. I couldn’t be an asshole to her, but I didn’t want to joke around with her either, because if I did, she’d smile and laugh with those cherry lips, and then I’d start thinking about kissing her again.
“Slade, come on!” Max waved from the clubhouse.
This was just some weird hormonal glitch. I needed to take care of Max. I’d focus on him and Gilly, not Trina. Get a grip, I told myself. Do your job. I ran toward the clubhouse.
Anyway, nothing would ever happen between Trina and me because, like Alex said, she couldn’t stand me.
Chapter Sixteen
Slade
Tuesday, June 11
The clock on the rec center wall said 10:03 when I ran through the door. I nodded to Mark, the manager. “Sorry I’m late.”
He shook his head, grinning. He’d known me a long time.
“What age group?” I asked. “Three-and four-year-olds? The guppies?” The little ones were my specialty. Plus their parents were great tippers.
Mark raised his eyebrows. “Not today. Adult beginners. “
I gaped at him. I’d never taught an adult swim class before. Plus they were beginners, so they were probably terrified. As I hurried to the locker room, I considered strategies. Turn on the charm. Make them laugh. Settle their nerves. It couldn’t be that much different than teaching toddlers.
A group of older women about my mom’s age stood clustered together in the shallow end, laughing nervously. A pale, skinny guy stood off to the side, glaring at everyone. The older women would be easy. Skinny Guy might be tough.
I jumped into the pool next to the ladies, splashing them a little. They gasped in sur
prise, but I flashed them my biggest grin. “Greetings, ladies”—I turned to the skinny guy—“and gentleman. Sorry I’m late. I’m subbing for Lindsay. She sprained her ankle.” When she’d called me in a panic last night, because all the other subs were busy, I’d agreed to help out.
My dad had made some sarcastic remark about me juggling “so many jobs,” but he’d looked almost happy when I raced out the door this morning. Not that I knew what happy looked like on him.
“So are we ready?”
The ladies nodded. Skinny guy shrugged.
“We’re missing someone,” one of the ladies said.
“That cute girl,” another lady said. “She’s never late.”
Cute girl? By their standards, it was probably someone in her thirties.
“That’s okay, she can join us when she gets here. Who wants to show me what they can do? Is anyone able to swim a few strokes yet?”
Skinny piped up. “Yeah.” He dog-paddled across the shallow end of the spool, splashing like a three hundred pound whale, but he made it to the other side.
“Cool.” I gave him a thumbs-up. He narrowed his eyes at me while the ladies applauded. I couldn’t blame him. It must suck to have someone my age teach him.
“There she is.” One of the ladies pointed.
I turned around. And my heart stopped.
Trina walked to the edge of the pool in a blue one-piece swimsuit, goggles dangling from her hand. She smiled shyly at the lady who’d recognized her, and for a brief moment I was able to drink her in with my eyes. She wasn’t tall and leggy like Beth or Lindsay. But she was undeniably, unbelievably hot.
How had I been so blind all this time?
When her gaze landed on me, the horrified look in her eyes cut me worse than any knife could.
“Where’s Lindsay?” she asked crossing her arms protectively over her chest.
“She sprained her ankle. I’m the sub.” I gave her my best smile. At least I hoped it was. “Hop in,” I said casually, like it was no big deal that we were half naked. In front of a bunch of desperate housewives. And an angry skinny guy.
Like anything could ever happen here.
She bit her lip, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve already missed part of the lesson.” She took a step backward. “I should probably just go home.”
Was I so awful that she wanted to run away from me? After the Putt-Putt disaster, we’d hardly spoken during the movie, each of us focusing intently on the kids and not each other. I’d wanted to apologize, because I knew I’d hurt her feelings at the golf course. But I hadn’t.
“Come on in, honey,” one of the housewives called out. “We’re all in this together.”
Suddenly I remembered our argument last week about taking the kids swimming. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to go. But why hadn’t she just told me she couldn’t swim? Then I swallowed, remembering how she’d accused me of making fun of her at school. Of course she hadn’t told me.
I turned my attention back to the ladies. If Trina wanted to leave, I’d let her fade away without calling attention to it.
“You’re next, beautiful,” I said, pointing to a lady wearing a flowered swim cap. “Show me what ya got.”
Swim Cap giggled then splashed across the pool. She didn’t kick up nearly as much water as Skinny Guy. “Not bad,” I told her. “I don’t know why I’m even here. You guys are swimmers already!” The ladies laughed. Skinny Guy rolled his eyes.
“Oh please,” Trina said, suddenly appearing next to me. “Don’t be so condescending, Slade.”
I whipped my head around. How had she snuck up on me like that? I tried not to notice as the water undulated up and down over her breasts. I turned back to the ladies, pointing to one in a yellow suit. “Your turn,” I said, keeping my eyes on the woman as she paddled in circles, her head completely out of the water.
“I mean it, Slade,” Trina said, her voice sounding shaky. “You don’t know how hard it is…to do this. So please don’t…don’t…” Her voice faltered.
I turned to look at her. Her eyes glistened. She wasn’t going to cry, was she? I couldn’t look away from those enormous eyes. Every nerve in me tuned into her body, just inches from mine. I wondered if she’d have to stand on her tiptoes if I kissed her.
“Don’t what?” My voice sounded like someone was choking me.
“Don’t make fun of us,” she whispered.
“But I’m not! I would never—”
She floated away from me, drifting over to the housewives, who welcomed her with friendly chatter. Trina wiped her eyes as the lady in the orange swimsuit patted her shoulder.
Son of a bitch.
I wasn’t condescending; I was just trying to keep it light. I’d been swimming practically since I could walk. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to learn as an adult. I felt bad for them, even Skinny Guy.
Trina wouldn’t look at me when it was her turn to paddle across the shallow end. She tugged on her goggles then paddled slowly. She wasn’t bad. She didn’t splash as much as some of the others. But she stopped halfway across, standing up and gasping for air.
Skinny Guy, who’d somehow maneuvered himself close to her, leaned over to say something. She tugged her goggles off, and I noticed him checking her out. My fists clenched underwater.
Trina turned to me, defiant and mortified. I wanted to tell her she’d done great, but I remembered her warning. “Don’t be so condescending, Slade.”
I nodded, determined to be honest but kind. “Pretty good,” I said, “but you need to work on your breathing.” I looked at the group. “That’s the toughest part of swimming. Once you figure that out, the rest comes easy.”
I tipped over a basket of kick boards and tossed them in the pool. “Everyone take one. We’re going to work on breathing.”
I waited in the rec center lobby for over half an hour, playing stupid games on my cell. Everyone from the lesson had left already, except Trina. I knew she was avoiding me, but I had to talk to her. I pulled out my phone and texted her. Again.
R u alive? Or did one of the locker room cockroaches get u?
Her reply came a few minutes later. Don’t wait for me. I’ll c u tomorrow.
I sighed. She wasn’t making this easy. And it wasn’t like I could just barge into the women’s locker room.
Maybe I could ask Alex for advice. Then I thought of how he’d gloat about me being so rattled by his favorite pixie. Maybe I’d call some other girl instead, to take my mind off of Trina.
But as I scrolled through the contacts in my cell, I realized I didn’t want to spend time with anyone else.
Chapter Seventeen
Trina
Tuesday, June 11
I inched down the rec center hallway like a spy, craning my neck around the corner to check out the lobby.
He was gone. Relief surged through me.
I’d never been so mortified in my life. I felt exposed and vulnerable, not only because he’d seen me in a swimsuit, but because now he knew the real reason I didn’t want to take the kids swimming. Well, one of the reasons.
I decided to head to the mall and see Desi, then maybe go to a movie. Anything to stop replaying the horrific swim lesson over and over in my mind.
Desi wasn’t at Pretzel Logic yet, since her shift started later, so I took the escalator to the theater and scanned the show times. My choices were a zombie flick or a romantic comedy. Gore or kissing? No contest. A girl had to get her romance where she could.
After the movie I headed to the pretzel shop. A group of guys congregated, their loud shouts of laughter making me hesitate. Guys always flocked to Desi. As I got closer, I recognized Trey and a couple of his friends.
Desi glanced up, a smile lighting her face. The guys turned to see who she was waving at and my eyes locked with the one person I hadn’t noticed before.
Slade.
Oh my God. Was he stalking me or what? A guy who I never used to see anywhere was now showing up everywhere I went. Eve
rywhere he shouldn’t be.
Slade sucked on his lemonade and pretended to read the menu on the wall.
So was he as embarrassed to see me as I was to see him? Or was he thinking what a pathetic Bird Brain I was? The loser who couldn’t swim. Who couldn’t control a five-year-old girl. Who acted like she’d won a gold medal at a Putt-Putt course.
The guys draped themselves over the tables lining the wall. Their laughter was loud, then their voices dropped low. God, I hoped Slade wasn’t telling them about my swim lesson.
He wouldn’t do that. Would he?
I stepped up to the counter, my face burning. “Next time text me a warning,” I said through gritted teeth.
She tilted her head. “Warn you about what?”
I darted my eyes at Slade.
She followed my gaze. “He doesn’t bite.” She gave me a devilish grin. “Or maybe he does. And maybe you’d like to be his next victim.”
My mouth dropped open. “What?” I glanced nervously over my shoulder, but the guys ignored us, shooting spit wads at each other through their straws.
She shrugged. “I’m just saying…”
I glared at her. “Well, stop saying it.”
She laughed. “You want a pretzel? Lemonade?”
I’d been starving when I left the theater but now my appetite had fled. I shook my head.
She examined me from head to toe. “You look different today.”
I panicked. Was my shirt on inside out? Was my hair sticking up?
“Maybe it’s new makeup?”
I shook my head.
“You just look…more alive, I guess.” She frowned at me. “You sure about the makeup?”
I rolled my eyes. The guys roared with laughter over something, and I was grateful they couldn’t hear our ridiculous conversation.
“You should wear red more often. It makes your hair and eyes really pop.”
I glanced down at my red shirt and denim miniskirt. I was totally regretting the skirt, but all my shorts were in the wash, and it was too hot for jeans.
Why did I care, anyway? Slade had already seen me in swimsuit. I glanced at him, just in time to see him look away from me.
Playing the Player Page 10
