Tomboys Don't Wear Pink
How To Date A Tomboy
Christina Benjamin
Contents
Follow Author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Tomboys Don’t Kiss The Quarterback
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Also by Christina Benjamin
About the Author
Note from the Author
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2020 by Christina Benjamin
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crown Atlantic Publishing
Version 1.1
April 2020
Prologue
Casey
Trojan Tattler:
Dynasty Domination! Fans rejoiced this weekend as our favorite Royal Duo, Grant King and Alex Prince, led the Trojans to victory at the State Championship. Not only did the King and Queen of the diamond seal the win with a kiss, but it seems Catcher, Lucas Hargrove, may have caught tomboy fever, too! He was seen locking lips with a certain coach’s daughter. Look out boys of baseball, Trojans spell trouble with a capital TOMBOY!
My fingers traced my tingling lips as I reread the Tattler post I’d memorized over my lonely summer. Our last win had been unreal, but not quite as unreal as kissing Lucas Hargrove. The first thing he did after catching the game ending out was toss off his catcher’s mask and sweep me off my feet right in front of everyone! Including his coach—aka my dad!
I don’t know how to describe the magic of that kiss to you. I also don’t know if it was so epically awesome only because the lips claiming mine belonged to my long-standing crush, Lucas Hargrove. But I’m not going to dwell on that. I’m too focused on trying to figure out how to make it happen again.
Chapter One
Casey
Right after our glorious kiss, summer started and my best friend and crush were swept away in a flurry of sports camps and college campus tours, leaving me, the lame junior of the bunch, to cut lawns and stew over how cruel timing can be.
I’ve had a crush on Lucas Hargrove since I learned how to tie my cleats. So why did he have to wait to finally notice me until right before my junior year? It didn’t help that he’s a year older than me either.
It’s not just that he’s older, but Lucas Hargrove is completely out of my league.
Normally, he spent his summers at the most elite sports camps money could buy, but because my luck in love was as bad as my luck in life, Lucas’s parents added even more to his plate this summer, ensuring he wouldn’t be around to see me even if he wanted to.
Considering it’s doubtful the Hargroves even know I exist, I know they didn’t exactly sweep Lucas away to keep us apart, but sometimes it felt that way.
Thanks to the magic of social media, I’ve been able to keep up with Lucas’s pressing schedule of sports camps and campus tours. But like the true stan that I am, I only stalk, never comment. It would be weird if I did. It was only one kiss. One earth-shattering, spine-tingling perfect kiss.
But Lucas and I don’t live in the same world. I’ve been cutting lawns all summer while he’s visiting prestigious Ivy League schools all over the country.
Rumor has it he’s a shoo-in at Harvard thanks to the lofty alumni legacies of his doctor mother and attorney father. Nothing’s too good for the Hargrove’s only heir. But I couldn’t help wondering if Lucas even wanted to go there. From what I knew about collegiate baseball—which is a lot—Harvard wasn’t really known for churning out MLB stars. And from what I knew about Lucas Hargrove—which embarrassingly was also a lot—he wants nothing more than to play professional baseball.
That was just one more of Lucas’s qualities that set us a world apart. Here I was pining over a future pro baller with his pick of Ivies while I’d be lucky if I could afford community college. More immediately, I wouldn’t be able to afford dinner if I didn’t get this lawn mowed.
* * *
After stowing my lawnmower in the back of my dad’s old pickup truck, I wiped the sweat from my freckled brow and guzzled the rest of my Gatorade like I’d just finished a marathon. I pulled my phone from my pocket and frowned. Still no messages.
Could I be more lame?
My heart sank a little further, but as usual, I refused to focus on the negative. I’ve always been a glass half full kind of girl. Coach says I get that from my mom. I wish I could remember her more. The older I get, the more I feel her loss, which is strange considering she died when I was barely five.
Being raised by my baseball-coaching dad had never really bothered me though. He’s a great guy—more friend and coach than father, at times—but it works for us. Neither of us cook or clean, but there’s not much better than watching a game on TV while sharing a frozen dinner with your old man six nights a week.
On Sundays we go out to dinner. We’re not animals!
The cleaning was pretty easy to solve, too. Since neither of us can manage even the simplest of domestic things, we hired a cleaning lady. I’m more than happy to chip in my mowing money to avoid the red-sock-washing-machine incident of fifth grade—pink is not a good look on a redhead.
Besides, no self-respecting tomboy wears pink.
But I’m getting off topic.
I’m trying to remind myself that I’m not bummed out that my friends and lifelong crush have been gone all summer, and it’s perfectly okay that I don’t have a mom to talk to about the tornado of ques
tions that keep me up all night.
Like what if Lucas doesn’t even remember the kiss?
Or what if it wasn’t life-changing for him?
Normally, I’d just talk to my best friend Alex about this kind of stuff. But alas, she’s at a summer sports camp, too. I guess that’s the trouble with tomboys, or maybe just athletes in general. Sometimes sports get in the way.
Alex plays baseball, too. No, I didn’t mean softball, thank you very much. She plays baseball with the boys because that’s the kind of rebel she is.
When Alex Prince moved to town, a lot of things changed. Not only did I gain a best friend, but my school gained its first female baseball player—and winning season to boot!
It’s not like Alex came with some feminist agenda. She hadn’t wanted to play on the boys’ team, but since Northwood High didn’t have a softball team, she didn’t have any other choice but to tryout for the boys’ team.
It’s actually how she met her boyfriend, Grant King, but that’s a whole different story.
The important thing is that she’s inspired me to try out for the team this year, too! And in just two weeks, when school starts up again, I’m going to formally do just that.
I’ve wanted to play baseball my whole life. Actually, I pretty much have played one form of the sport my whole life. I started with tee ball, then peewee ball, then I played in the junior girls leagues all the way until I started high school at Northwood. But from ninth grade on, thanks to my school being stuck in the dark ages, I’ve had to let go of the sport I love.
Currently, I only get my fix by helping my dad, who coaches the boys’ team.
But no more.
Thanks to Alex, I’m proud to be a tomboy and no longer willing to hide my love of sports.
My junior year is going to be awesome. I have plans. I’m finally going to get to play the sport I love and, with a little luck, I’m going to get the guy!
It’s going to be quite a journey . . . but if things go my way, I just know it’s going to be the beginning of something beautiful.
I looked at my phone once again.
Still no messages, but the date that glared back at me made me smile.
Three days until Lucas returned.
Only one more day until my best friend returned.
See . . . there’s always a reason to smile.
Chapter Two
Casey
“Oh, come on, Alex! I never get to do this kind of stuff,” I whined.
“Yes, sweetie,” Mrs. Prince crooned. “Do it for Casey.”
Alex glared at me, but I knew she was about to cave by the way her lips pursed halfway between a grimace and grin. That was a perk of having a best friend—you got to know each other’s tells.
Although it hadn’t even been a year since she moved here, it felt like Alex and I knew everything about each other. A tomboy right down to her toes, Alex hated all things girly. But she was also the kind of person who would do anything for a friend. Which was how I knew she’d never deny my desperate desire for mothering and makeovers—another reason why she was my best friend.
“Fine,” Alex snapped. “But you owe me. Both of you,” she added glaring at her mom.
Mrs. Prince didn’t miss a beat. She clapped her hands and hopped to her feet before Alex could change her mind. “Let’s get started! I’ve been saving some dresses for this very occasion. Oh, and Casey, I have the perfect eye shadow to set off those gorgeous brown eyes of yours.”
“Thanks Mrs. P.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Alex, do you remember that dress I bought you last spring? Can you bring it to my room? I think it would be perfect for tonight.”
Alex groaned as she followed us up the stairs like she was marching to her execution. “Whatever, as long—”
“—as it’s not pink!” Mrs. Prince and I said in unison before dissolving into giggles.
“I mean it,” Alex huffed. “If you even try to put one ounce of pink on me, I’m going to tell Grant to call this whole thing off!”
“Scout’s honor,” Mrs. Prince said saluting her only daughter.
I gave Alex a wink, knowing she wouldn’t cancel on Grant even if her mother dressed her in a frilly pink tutu. They’d been apart all summer too with their respective sports camps and travel leagues. Plus, tonight’s ballgame was too big an opportunity to miss. It wasn’t every day that one got invited to throw out the opening pitch at a college baseball game!
Ever since winning the High School State Championship, the Trojans baseball team had been getting a lot of attention. Okay, so it was mostly Alex who was getting the attention. But as the only girl on a boys’ championship team, the attention was warranted.
At least in my opinion.
Alex, however, hated the limelight. The only reason she’d agreed to tonight was because it was about Grant, too. They were quite the power couple at Northwood High and everyone in town, including the media, was eating them up. The buzz they stirred as the allstar duo who clinched the championship had done great things for Grant’s college opportunities.
He went from fat-chance to full-ride overnight. He was being scouted like mad, but he had his heart set on playing in Arizona where Alex would be heading after graduation.
That’s why tonight was so important. The home opener for our state college was against Arizona State! That meant throwing out the first pitch would put Grant in front of the very team he wanted to play for!
Grant leapt at the opportunity. The only problem? The college wanted Alex to be there too so they could get photos and sound bites to boost interest in the upcoming season. And since her dad coached our state college team and helped arrange the whole event, she couldn’t really say no.
I knew being paraded around like a pageant queen in front of cameras and a large crowd was the last thing Alex wanted to do. But that’s what I admired about my best friend. She always swallowed her pride and put others first whenever she could.
Case in point? Alex was sitting next to me in curlers while her mother pulled dress after dress out of her closet as potential options for tonight.
“Thanks for this,” I whispered, squeezing Alex’s hand, thankful she knew what tonight meant to me.
Alex’s scowl softened. “Of course. And for what it’s worth, Lucas is going to fall head over heels when he sees you.”
I studied my reflection nervously. Mrs. Prince had expertly applied my makeup and tamed my auburn locks into a sleek, glossy style that fell like silk over my shoulders. I barely recognized myself and worried it would look like I was trying too hard. But tonight was my first chance to see Lucas since our kiss. I didn’t want to send the wrong message by not trying hard enough.
I tugged on the ends of my shoulder-length hair, anxiously. “You really think I look okay?”
Alex grinned. “I don’t think, I know. And what are you worried about? The boy kissed you in front of Coach! If that’s not a declaration, I don’t know what is.”
I felt myself blush. The last few months, my life had felt like a dream. I had a best friend who got me, and I had kissed the boy I’d been crushing on since I was in braces. If Lucas and I by some miracle picked up where we left off, I knew the rest of the pieces of my life would fall perfectly into place.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t spent the summer imagining how perfect everything could be. Lucas would kiss me again and tell me he liked me, I’d make the baseball team, and then the four of us would be inseparable. Lucas and me, and Alex and Grant. We’d even have a fun nickname like the fab four or something catchy—like the brat pack.
We would kill it on the baseball field, ride bikes to each others houses as summer turned to fall, then when it got cold, we could take Lucas’s truck to watch movies at the drive-in while we got our fill of hot cocoa and kissing.
It would be perfection.
With Alex as my best friend, I went from a lonely tomboy with no friends to finally being okay with my place in the world. And having Lucas as my boyfriend would
be the icing on the cake. I could finally stop viewing myself as the lowly bat girl, or the coach’s daughter. I could be the girl I was always meant to be. Myself.
The only problem?
It felt too good to be true.
I didn’t know exactly why, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something this good couldn’t last. I voiced my concerns to Mrs. Prince a few weeks ago. She’d caught me sulking over my pizza when she ran into me and my dad at Champs, our ritual Sunday dinner spot.
Mrs. Prince asked my dad if she could steal me for girl-talk and shopping, to which he quickly agreed. I’d had a few of these impromptu shopping excursions with Mrs. Prince over the summer. I had a sneaking suspicion she was checking up on me with Alex away. I also suspected Mrs. Prince was as desperate for girl time as I was. As a mother of four boys and a rebellious tomboy, she didn’t get many opportunities to mother someone interested in nothing but sports.
After a latte and some window shopping, I shared my concerns about Lucas with her. She listened intently and told me what I was feeling was normal. ‘Junior class blues’ she called it.
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