Matt Moore walks toward me from behind the dune grass. Where did he come from?
“You scared me,” I say, holding my hand to my chest. “Were you watching us or something?”
“I’m always watching you.” He grins, but I don’t take it seriously because Matt says flirty stuff like this to everyone.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I’m coming back from the gym.” Matt digs his hands in his shorts, which show off his thick, cut legs. He shrugs his shoulders, moving his hoodie toward his ears. He looks extra snuggly, like a warm teddy bear. I resist the urge to hug him. Not like a boyfriend-girlfriend hug (because he’s too short and I might crush him), more like a stuffed animal hug before drifting off to sleep.
“Where’s Vi?”
Matt adjusts his Beachwood Academy lacrosse bag over his shoulder. “How should I know?” He looks around. “Where’s Murph?”
I snap my head around toward Kylie. “Beats me.”
He looks down and kicks some sand around.
It’s strange, but for the first time, I feel kind of weird around Matt. I can’t figure it out. I mean, we hang out in English together every day. Not knowing what to say, I opt for the same question I went for the last time we were together: “Did you write any more poetry?”
“Shhhh . . .” He looks up at me with his big, deep brown eyes and inches closer. So close I have to look down. “Remember that’s our secret.” His hot breath hits my neck, and out of nowhere I feel a tingly sensation bottle up inside.
Wait, what? I’ve only ever thought of Matt as puppy dog cute, but right now, he’s definitely hitting Kellan Lutz status once again (except Matt’s more of a Nick Jonas than a Kellan, since Nick’s also kind of short). Suddenly, it hits me: Why am I even thinking this? I take a step backward. “I better go. My teammates should be coming back from their run soon.”
“Yeah, me too.” Matt lets out a deep breath. “See you around.”
“Yeah, see you around.”
I watch Matt continue in the opposite direction of my teammates. Man, his butt looks good in his jeans. Maybe even better than Jonas’s and Lutz’s.
thirty-five
“Get ’em!” Out of nowhere, the guys’ basketball team sprint across the sand and attacks us one by one. My teammates, just back from their beach run, attempt to ascape by dashing toward the cliffs.
Dwight grabs Eva and swings her over his shoulder, running toward the surf. Zach scoops me up like a newlywed and steps in line behind Dwight. Nick chases Kylie. Jason grabs Jessica. Chris flips Tamika over his shoulder. Andrew grabs Missy. Zoe and Abby take off toward the dune grass.
“Let us go!” Eva yells.
“The water is frigid!” Tamika screams.
One by one the guys toss my teammates into the shimmering waves. Instead of chucking me into the ocean like the others, Zach drags me away from the group and plants a kiss on my lips before I can turn my head. Shivers run up my spine. And it’s not just from the cool water splashing at our feet.
I glimpse at my teammates who are busy wrestling with the guys. In fact, Kylie has Nick in one of her infamous headlocks, compulsively checking behind her for a certain special someone. For a second, I wonder if she’s ever choked that someone—eh, Zach.
“Get ’em!” Out of nowhere, the guys’ basketball team sprints across the sand and attacks us one by one. My teammates, just back from their beach run, attempt to escape by dashing toward the cliffs.
“How about you meet up with me at the beach courts later?” Zach asks, out of breath.
Behind him, Jessica is wiggling away from Jason, whose lips are puckered up.
“I so want to, Zach, but I can’t,” I tell him.
“Blowing me off again, huh? I get it. Just say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”
“No, that’s not it. It’s not that I don’t want to hang out, believe me. It’s just—”
“Good. Because I’m not giving up on you.” He pulls me so close that we’re nose to nose.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot my teammates emerging from the water.
“I gotta go,” I say.
“I’ll text you later,” Zach whispers in my ear, sending tingles down my back. Gently, he releases me.
“Where are you going?” Nick calls.
Kylie flips her head upside down and gathers her blonde hair in a saturated ponytail on top of her head. “We’re busy.”
“Yeah,” Missy shouts over the surf. “We have three things to do.”
“Are you guys still doing that dumb three-B thing?” Nick taunts.
“You should give it a try. Maybe you guys would win a game or two,” Kylie snickers. “Or three.”
“Maybe we already are,” Nick says.
That’s when Jason jabs his arm. “Dude!”
thirty-six
We gather up our things from the beach. I linger for a bit, secretly admiring Zach as he strides into the water to join the guys in all his muscley glory. Yum.
“Come on, Skank,” Kylie says jokingly and pulls me by my arm a little harder than necessary. At least, I think she’s joking.
I follow my teammates, wistfully casting one glance back at Zach. It’s as if I’m in a room full of fluffy white birthday cake and I’m not allowed to eat any.
“Losers,” Kylie adds. She stops to double knot her sneakers. “When we’re done with three-B, I’m going to start hanging out with college men. No more B-Dub boys for me.”
“They’re totally trying to mess with us,” Eva says. “Jason was trying to kiss me. And it seems like it was just because he saw our three-B posts. What a tool.”
“The whole thing is kind of weird, you know. All of a sudden, all these guys are asking me out. And before three-B, it was like crickets,” Tamika says.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Missy pipes up. “Chris Phillips and Andrew asked me to hang out today after practice. Though I guess it’s kind of different for them to be asking me,” she pauses, looking around at the rest of us, “as opposed to, uh—”
“Us too,” Abby adds, nodding in Zoe’s direction. Guess she chose to ignore Missy’s dig.
I think back to Zach, and how Chris and a couple other guys messaged me out of the blue. Was it only because of three-B? Like some sort of twisted joke to see if I’d give in?
Kylie rolls her eyes.
Tamika shakes her head. “And I thought Dwight and Darren were just being nice.”
“Losers,” Kylie says.
“Resist, girls. We must resist.” Tamika laughs. “They’re just trying to throw us off our game.”
“Resistance.” Eva begins to dance to a silent beat.
Ughh. Eva has had five boyfriends already. Tamika has had three. Me, zero. One knee kiss and some tongue action. Speaking of resistance, I resist the urge to tell them: Speak for yourself. I’m liking the attention.
“Well, let’s get this positive affirmation thingy over with. Who’s up for Sprinkles?” Tamika picks up her bag.
“Sounds good to me,” Missy answers. “The only way I’m going to swallow all of your compliments is if I have some cupcakes to sweeten my mood.”
“What the?!?” Kylie trips over a leftover sneaker from the guys’ pile of duds and falls arms outstretched into the sand.
Gotta love karma.
“Someone’s excited about Sprinkles.” Missy walks over to Kylie and helps her to her feet. Then Missy freezes. “Wait, what is this?”
She takes a few steps backwards, bends down, picks up a crumpled piece of paper next to the sneaker, and smoothes it with her hand. Her eyes widen. “Ohmigod.” She holds the paper out to us.
“What?” Tamika grabs it, and we crowd around her.
3B—BABES, BASES, AND BASKETBALL
5 points—first base
10 points—second base
15 points—third base
20 points—homerun
5 point bonus for never been kissed
Points:
Nick—15 (Brooke, Stacy)
Zach—35 (Taylor*, Kylie, Annie*)
Jose—20 (Natasha, Eva, Violet)
Dwight—5 (Tamika)
Matt—30 (Violet, Natasha, Beatrice)
Chris—25 (Corrine, Brooke, Jessica*)
Jason—10 (Nicole*)
Andrew—20 (Brooke, Missy)
*—Bonus Babes
“Uh-huh-uh-huh-uh . . .” I can’t catch my breath. “Zach . . . and Matt???”
“Taylor, are you okay?” Jessica asks, her eyes full of concern. Everyone turns to look at me. I force myself to get my breathing under control and nod that I’m all right.
“I’m going to kill them,” Tamika growls.
“They must suffer,” Eva screeches.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Missy adds. “Brooke?”
My heart pounds so loudly in my chest that, for a second, I can’t make out their conversation. All I can think is: It was all a lie. It was all a lie. It was all a lie. I actually believed those guys liked me, if only for a millisecond. There were just so many messages and texts, guys coming out of nowhere, begging to hang out with me. And now it turns out that all that matters to them is that I’m worth more points in this stupid, perverted game they’re playing.
Think positive thoughts. I rub my temples and attempt to concentrate on what my teammates are saying.
Kylie grabs the paper and shreds it into a zillion pieces.
“What are you doing?” Tamika screams as she holds out her hands in an attempt to catch the falling pieces of paper.
“This is sick. The whole thing is sick,” Kylie yells. “And I’m just so sick of everything. Sick of you and Zachary.” She looks at me. “And sick of all these games.”
“But what about the rest of Beachwood?” Tamika says. “We need the proof. We need to show everyone this list.”
“We can tell them.” Kylie flings her bag over her shoulder. “Now, let’s go drown our sorrows in mounds of sugar and frosting.”
“How can you eat at a time like this?” Abby asks in disbelief. Her hand shoots up to cover her mouth, as if she can’t believe she just stood up to crazy Kylie Collins.
Kylie flips around to face Abby. “While the rest of you are surprised, I’m not. These guys are jerks. The paper I just tore doesn’t tell us anything new. It only confirms what I’ve known all along.”
Tamika interrupts, “But, Kylie—”
“No buts. You all know I’m right. And anyway, I’m not going to let a bunch of dumb guys get in our way again.” She pushes Zoe and Abby out of her path and begins to saunter off. When no one follows, she turns back around. “Come on! I’m dying for some Red Velvet.”
Zoe shrugs and glances at the rest of us. “Sounds good to me. My brother can act like a total tool.”
We all sheepishly trot behind. Of all people, Kylie likes sweet Sprinkles? Sweet is not a word I would ever use in the same sentence as Kylie. And I thought guys texting me was weird.
thirty-seven
“So, how are we going to get the word out about the list?” Tamika asks, while in line outside of Sprinkles.
I hang back a bit, still fuming. How could I be so stupid?
“We got the word out about the original three-B through the Internet, so it seems like that’s a good way to go. They are calling theirs three-B too, after all,” Missy suggests.
Eva twiddles her ear bud. “We should have a little song.” She starts warbling, “Click here to see how the guys are playas. Playas. Playas. Oh yeah. Oh-oh-oh yeah.”
Zoe and Abby break out in a fit of giggles.
“Seriously, girls. How can we make sure everyone finds out about this?” Tamika asks, tightening up her face.
“Uh, isn’t it obvious? Texts, ladies. Texts are the best way to spread something fast,” Kylie pipes up.
You should know, I think to myself. It takes all of my strength not to burst out: Remember someone named Chloe? You ruined her life with one text. But I’ve never gotten anywhere in life by being mean. Time to distract myself with the sweet bakery smell.
“Kylie, not that that’s not a good idea—it totally is. And you know I love you like a sister . . .” Missy speaks up, steadying herself for the Kylie onslaught, “but do you think texts will really get our message out faster than the Internet?”
“Are you kidding me?” Kylie answers, in total shock that her BFF would dare contradict her. “It’s instantaneous, total annihilation. People check their accounts at different times, but everyone will see these texts at the exact same second. And bam, we put the boys to bed.”
“Kylie’s right,” Tamika agrees. “If we all text our contacts, we should hit the entire school. Okay, everyone out with their phones!”
Everyone reaches into their bags. I contemplate doing the same, but as much as I want to help other girls avoid feeling the pain I’m currently experiencing, it’s not like my contact list is so extensive. In fact, I’m pretty sure that with my teammates texting so furiously, all the numbers I have stored will be covered.
Bzzzzz. Bzzzz. On cue, my phone begins buzzing, as if it’s sending me a not-so-gentle reminder. Great, even my phone is in on the conspiracy. I take a deep breath and picture my cupcake. Caramel cake. Brown sugar frosting. Crunchy nut praline.
“This place is crazy busy,” Jessica says, breaking me from my reverie.
“Yeah, I know. Seriously,” Eva agrees, shoving her phone into her baggy pants pocket.
We all take a step closer to the open door. At this point, the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and other delectable goodies is tickling my nose.
I hear someone lick their lips. Tamika. Catching herself mid-lick, a realization washes over her face. “Wait, guys! We never did the last team-building activity!”
Kylie pushes me forward. “Freshmen first.”
“Okay, Taylor, you’re up.” Tamika nods her head in agreement.
Let’s just add to my misery. Joy. What good could Kylie possibly have to say about me?
“Taylor is athletic,” Tamika volunteers.
“Thanks,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat up.
“I’ll add sweet like a cupcake,” Jessica says, smiling at me.
Kylie makes a weird nasal giggle slash snort.
“Thanks, Jess,” I answer. “That’s very nice of you to say.”
“Tall,” Eva says.
I’ll take tall. “Thank you, Eva.”
“Brunette,” Missy says.
“Nice,” Zoe pipes up.
“Beachwood Basketball Queen,” Abby adds.
“Thanks, guys.”
“Ugly-duckling-like.” Kylie giggles.
My stomach drops.
“What?” Jessica retorts. “Come on, Kylie, that’s messed up.”
“No, it’s not. Taylor’s the total ugly-duckling package. She’s coming out of her ugly stage. And one day soon, she’ll be a glowing swan.”
“Coach said one word, Ky,” Tamika reminds Kylie.
“Yeah, but that’s one of the best compliments ever,” Missy responds.
“Thanks, Miss. Guess you’re not a total traitor after all,” Kylie continues, having sufficiently embarrassed Missy. “Think about it. She used to be really awkward in middle school and now she’s becoming totally gorgeous.”
I stare at my sneaks. “Thanks,” I squeak. Kylie’s right. Coming from her, that’s probably the biggest compliment ever. Who knew team building could be sweeter than Sprinkles?
thirty-eight
The next day at fashion show practice, Mrs. Sealer showers Violet with compliment after compliment. I know it’s not nice to say this, especially after all my teammates just told me what a good person I am, but if Mrs. Sealer gives Violet another “I hope you remember little ole me when you’re famous,” I might just throw up in my mouth.
I try to slap a smile on my face, but my patience is seriously depleted—today was just ridiculously insane. After the guys’ 3B list got out, more face slaps, foot stomps, and punches to the gut than I’ve
ever seen in my life ensued. And Hannah, of course, proceeded to remind me not once, but four times, why she hangs out at the skate park, and not the beach courts.
Violet turns at the end of the catwalk and strikes a Paris Hilton pose.
Mrs. Sealer claps her hands like a seal. “Bravo! Bravo!”
Ugghhh. I glance at my phone.
DAD: WHERE ARE YOU?????
ME: REHEARSAL?
DAD: FOR WHAT?
ME: A FASHION SHOW
DAD: WHAT????
ME: 4 HANNAH
DAD: YOU MISSED YOUR TRAINER APPOINTMENT
My stomach sinks. Between fashion show practice, basketball, and the drama over the guys’ 3B list, I completely forgot about my Tuesday training appointment. How could I do that? What is wrong with me? Basketball comes first, and I’ve got to make our game against Richland mean something this time.
ME: I’LL BE HOME LATER TO WORK OUT IN MY ROOM. THEN, I’LL PRACTICE. SORRY ☹
After Violet’s performance, Mrs. Sealer glances down at her clipboard. Her expression changes. “You. Teri.” She points at me. “You’re next,” she says, in an I’m-losing-interest raspy voice.
“Taylor,” I say, under my breath. I strap on my red, patent leather heels and begin my strut (the strut I’ve been practicing whenever my life is not consumed by drama). I stop at the end of the catwalk and pivot. As I’m turning, my heel slips out from under me and I lose my balance. At the last second, I manage to catch myself. Whoaaa. Thank god for my basketball balancing skills.
“No. No. No. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.” Mrs. Sealer violently shakes her head.
“Like this.” Mrs. Sealer purses her collagen-filled lips and juts her hips as she walks.
I take a few steps backward and try again. As I struggle to strut, I hear some of the other girls break into giggles, and my breathing starts to race. Again.
“No. No. No. More drama. Like Vi.”
Impossible. I don’t think anyone can be as dramatic as Vi.
I calm my breathing and adjust my heels. Then I take a few steps back, inhale deeply, and sashay down the catwalk. I jut my hips out like I’m trying to knock people over with my hip bones.
Head Games Page 12
