Tomboys Don't Wear Pink: How To Date A Tomboy

by Benjamin, Christina

  Tryouts.

  For softball!

  This was really happening!

  I’d dreamt of playing ball for the Trojans since I was a kid. And it was going to happen! Maybe this year could turn around yet.

  “I’m on it, Dad,” I replied, letting excitement take hold. I picked up a notepad and scribbled down two names before holding it up proudly. “I’ve got your first two Lady Trojans right here.”

  He frowned. “Alex Prince is on my roster.”

  “Yeah, but that was only because there wasn’t a softball team.”

  “I don’t think playing softball on a team like this is a good idea for someone like Alex.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Casey, come on. You’re smart enough to know Alex is one of the best players on my team. Not to mention she has a full ride to Arizona State next year. As her coach, the last thing I’d advise her to do is join a team where she could get hurt playing softball with a bunch of girls who’ve never picked up a bat before.”

  Anger sliced my excitement like a knife. I crossed my arms. “But you think I should do it?”

  I watched my dad pinch the bridge of his nose and exhale slowly. “Casey, you know the rules. When we’re in my office, I’m your coach, not your dad. If you want to talk to about this at home—”

  I stood abruptly. “No thanks, Coach! You’ve made your point loud and clear.”

  “Casey!”

  He called after me, but I kept walking.

  I didn’t need him or Alex on my team.

  It was because of me that my school had gotten a softball team.

  It would be because of me that it would be successful.

  * * *

  To avoid my first day getting any worse, I decided to blow off my next class and hide out in the library. I figured it couldn’t hurt to get a jump start on researching how to start a softball team. Plus, in the library I’d be safe from ridicule and reality.

  Being that it was only the first day of school, I was banking on the library being deserted and offering me the much-needed escape I craved.

  Turns out I was half right.

  It was easy to get lost in the non-fiction sports stacks. But apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had the brilliant idea to hide out in the library.

  “Tyler?”

  The Trojans star pitcher jumped at the sound of my voice. “Oh hey, Red. You scared me.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He gave me his token flirty grin. “I could ask you the same question.”

  “Well, I asked first.”

  He sauntered closer, putting his arm on the shelf next to my head. He leaned in. “Oh come on, everyone knows the only reason to hang out in the stacks is ‘cause you’re looking for a hookup.” He drew closer still, his overpowering cologne making my eyes water. “I like the new look, Red.” He winked. “I’m game if you are.” Then he puckered his lips!

  “Ew! Not even if you were the last boy on the planet,” I vowed, before ducking under his arm.

  “Call me,” he teased, smacking his gum as he laughed at my hasty retreat.

  I muttered under my breath as I quickly marched away from Tyler and his perverse gestures. I didn’t know how much more I could take today. I mean that had to be it, right? Today couldn’t get worse. I closed my eyes and tried to remind myself to stay positive. You will not beat me, Universe!

  But I should’ve known better than to challenge the universe.

  Just when I thought I’d hit rock bottom, my day got a whole lot worse.

  While I was busy cursing my luck instead of watching where I was going, I walked smack into the most solid chest in Northwood High—Archer Montgomery.

  Not only was he my nemesis’s boyfriend, but also Northwood’s star quarterback and quite possibly one of the hottest guys in the junior class—ya know, if you’re into the whole Thor-like-good-looks kinda thing.

  I’m not saying I am. Football’s not really my thing and even if it was, I like Lucas. But I’m still human and Archer was famous for leaving the most experienced girls tongue-tied without even saying a word. So, the fact that his massive man-paws were wrapped around my waist to steady me left me more than a bit breathless, and certainly rosy cheeked.

  Okay, so atomic cherry was probably a more accurate description of my skin color as I profusely apologized for slamming into Archer, who I was only now noticing had probably been drinking his Gatorade rather than wearing it.

  “Omigod! I’m sooo sorry. I spilled your drink all over you.”

  He waved off my fussing and flashed a grin that melted my brain. I mean that’s the only explanation for what I did next. Which was a humiliating mixture of pawing his pecks and groping him as I attempted to wipe off the spreading stain from my bumble.

  “Beeler, hey, hey, slow down,” he said, taking a step back. “It’s okay. It was an accident.”

  “No, I should’ve been watching where I was going but I was too focused on getting away from stupid Tyler—”

  “Whoa, back up. Tyler Bishop? Did that dill-hole do something to you?”

  “Oh! N-no,” I stammered. “I just didn’t expect to run into him here.” Speaking of . . . I met Archer’s piercing blue eyes. “Is it hot guy day at the library or something?”

  Archer smirked and politely ignored my slip of shameful honesty, choosing instead to pick up the books I’d also knocked out of his arms.

  I bent to help him and our hands met on the cover of a math book.

  “Hmmm, I never pegged you as a math nerd, Montgomery.”

  His cheeks reddened. “And I never pegged you for a defensive back, but you sure have a mean tackle, Beeler.”

  It was my turn to blush. “Touché.”

  I surrendered his math book and was about to stand when he grabbed my hand. “Hey, um if you could maybe not mention this to anyone . . .”

  Like I was going to brag about this humiliating incident. “Wasn’t planning on it,” I said bitterly.

  “It’s just . . . I don’t really want this getting out.”

  Embarrassment pierced the little bit of self-respect I had left. “I get it, you don’t have to explain. I wouldn’t want to be seen with me either,” I added under my breath.

  I climbed to my feet, but Archer scrambled after me. “Wait, what?”

  “Listen, it’s been a really crappy day, but don’t worry, I’m not going to tell Lexy or anyone that you were talking to the school meme.”

  Archer’s eyebrows knitted together. “Um, I feel like I’m missing something. I was talking about not mentioning I was hiding out in the library trying to get ahead of my math problem.”

  I blinked. Once. Twice. “Oh.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, oh.”

  After the day I’d had there really wasn’t anything to do but laugh. So I did and I found it was kind of hard to stop. “So you’re worried I’m going to tell people you’re into math?”

  “I’m not into math. I’m trying to master it, so it doesn’t land me on the bench this season.”

  I stifled another laugh. “You need to get some real problems, Montgomery.”

  He smirked. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe try being a viral internet sensation that gets autotuned and memed for wearing neon underwear with a dress that turns nude under camera lights.”

  I watched realization dawn across his rugged features. “Oh yeah, the baseball thing. I saw that news clip.”

  “I think everyone has,” I said glumly.

  “What’s the problem? I thought you handled that jerk of a reporter pretty well.”

  “Well you’re the only one because everyone else at this school is enjoying reminding me how embarrassing it was.”

  “Why was it embarrassing? You stood up for a friend and talked about a sport you’re passionate about.”

  Again, I found myself blinking at him, dumbfounded.

  Archer waved off my drama like it was a mere gnat. “You know how it is.
They hate ya cause they ain't ya. You gotta learn to let that stuff roll off your back, Beeler.”

  Well when he put it like that . . . “Thanks. That helps, actually.”

  “So, we’re good?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Sorry I ruined your shirt.”

  He winked. “I never liked this shirt anyway.”

  My respect for him grew as he stuffed his disheveled math book into his backpack. “If math threatens to bench ya, let me know. I know a good tutor.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Seriously? Who?”

  “Me,” I said proudly.

  He gave me another heart-melting smile. “I just might take you up on that, Beeler.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lucas

  Trojan Tattler:

  Everyone knows tomboys don’t play by the rules, but it seems Northwood’s resident redhead likes breaking records. It does run in the family. Coach Beeler’s boys have been breaking records on the baseball field while his daughter is breaking records off the field. It’s only the first day of school and she’s already been caught canoodling with three unsuspecting guys. No one likes to kiss and tell, but it’s only fair that these players know they’re getting played. You’re nothing but clickbait, boys. Better watch out, Red. Locking lips with that many guys will make you viral on more than the internet.

  I stared at my phone willing the images of Casey to change, but nothing happened. The Tattler post stared back at me as the three photos below them chipped away at my confidence. I knew I hadn’t kissed Casey today no matter how real the Tattler photo looked.

  Did that mean the other two guys she was supposedly kissing were faked, too?

  The photos certainly looked real.

  Why hadn’t I just kissed her? Then maybe she wouldn’t have ended up with Tyler and Archer. I zoomed in on the photos of the other boys. My competition.

  Archer I could understand. The dude looked like the Disney version of Thor. But Tyler Bishop? He was Northwood’s biggest player! And not to mention my teammate. How the heck was I supposed to be able to catch for him now?

  “Yo,” Grant snarled, snatching my phone from me. “You’re supposed to be spotting me.”

  “I am,” I mumbled.

  “No, you’re trolling the Tattler like a teenaged girl.” He turned my screen off and put it next to his phone on the weight bench. “First rule of how to date a tomboy; don’t read the Tattler.”

  “Grant . . .” I exhaled my best friend’s name without patience. “Your stupid rules are getting old. And they suck.”

  “Says the guy with no girlfriend.”

  “Are you forgetting that not reading the Tattler is what nearly kept you and Alex apart last year?”

  He conceded. “Okay, fine. It’s good to have a heads-up so you can manage Tattler trauma, but you can’t believe everything you see on there. They made up all kinds of garbage about me and Alex.”

  “Yeah but this picture.” I grabbed my phone back and pointed to the photo of me and Casey. “It’s not completely false. We were standing in the hall today about to kiss.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  I shook my head. “Someone sure wants to make it look like we did though.”

  Grant shrugged. “Seems so.”

  “But why? And does that mean the other pics are misleading, too?”

  “I don’t know, man. Go talk to Casey.”

  If only it were that easy.

  The last time I’d seen Casey, she’d been sprinting to the parking lot with tears in her eyes—no doubt thanks to the Tattler rumors.

  She and Alex peeled out of the student lot like they were on a mission. And it’s not like I could just skip practice with her dad watching to go talk to her. Plus, my parents would kill me if I stepped a toe out of line after just getting things back on track.

  “Look, it’s complicated, Grant. I can’t just show up at our Coach’s house to ask his daughter who she’s been kissing,” I whispered. “I know Casey’s with Alex. Can you just text your girlfriend and find out what’s going on for me?”

  Grant snorted as he added another set of weights to the bar. “No way, man. I’m staying out of this turdnado.”

  “Thanks a lot, bro!”

  “Listen, there’s nothing I can do to help. I already gave you my advice. Either talk to her or wait for the Tattler to pick a new target. Anything else is just gonna create more drama.”

  I gritted my teeth and focused on spotting Grant as he lifted the impressive amount of weight. I knew he was probably right, but that didn’t mean I liked it.

  “Is it just dating a tomboy that makes things so complicated?”

  He laughed. “I’m pretty sure it’s all girls.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Casey

  Wouldn’t you know it, my day somehow managed to get a whole lot worse after I left the library. I was convinced that Lexy was behind the Tattler post. She probably had her minions spying on me. How else could someone happen to be in all the right places to catch me ‘kanoodling’ with three different boys? None of whom I actually kissed, by the way!

  I flopped back on Alex’s bed. “You know the worst part?” I whined. “I didn’t even get to kiss Lucas!”

  Alex hit me with some serious side-eye. “That’s the worst part?”

  “Okay, fine. Being labeled the herpes queen of our high school sucks, but you told me to ignore the comments.”

  Alex squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, Case. I wouldn’t wish the wrath of the Tattler on my worst enemy. It sucks being a target.”

  She was right. This type of cyber warfare was soul crushing. Alex warned me not to read the comments people were adding to the Tattler’s most recent post labeling me a kissing bandit and now I knew why. Sometimes words cut so deep we were doomed to carry the scars forever.

  I could already feel the cruel remarks of my classmates adding scar tissue to my heart.

  I squeezed my eyes shut trying to put the hateful comments out of my head.

  I sat up and met Alex’s sympathetic gaze. “How did you survive the Tattler?”

  “Honestly, I learned to stop looking at it.”

  “But—” I was about to tell her that was impossible, but she beat me to it.

  “I know it’s easier said than done, but it’s the only thing that worked. Eventually, other things overshadowed me and Grant, or me playing ball on the boys’ team.”

  My pulse quickened. “Omigod! I almost forgot you don’t know yet!”

  “Know what?” Alex asked.

  “I got the best news today!”

  Alex looked at me skeptically.

  I rolled my eyes. “I know I’m shifting gears faster than Danica Patrick, but today has been insane.”

  “Okay, so what’s the news?”

  “Northwood’s getting a softball team! That’s why Principal Turner wanted to see me. He had this lady from the National Women’s Softball League on the phone and she told me they decided to offer Northwood an athletic grant to start a softball program!”

  Alex’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes! They said my interview with that stupid reporter was compelling.”

  Alex laughed. “See, being an internet celebrity has its perks.”

  I shoved her shoulder and we both laughed.

  “Seriously though, Casey, this is incredible! Tell me everything!”

  I spent the next hour filling my best friend in on all the details of my surreal conversation with the Women’s Softball rep, my dad’s comments on coaching and what I’d learned in my brief library research into starting a softball team.

  I skipped over the parts where my dad decided to be more Coach than father, but of course, Alex got the truth out of me anyway.

  “So, where do I sign up?” she asked.

  I frowned. “You want to join the softball team?”

  “Duh!”

  “But you’re already on the baseball roster.”

  “Yeah, but that’s because Northwood didn�
�t have a softball team.”

  My excitement took hold. “That’s what I told my dad!”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  I swallowed hard. “Basically . . . when I brought up the idea of you joining the softball team, my dad said he wouldn’t advise it because you could risk an injury by playing with a bunch of inexperienced girls.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “Casey, you know better than anyone that I never wanted to be some kind of sports martyr. I just wanted to play the game I love. It just so happened that last year it had to be on a boys’ team. But I meant what I said. If Northwood had a softball team, I’d be happy there. And now we do, so show me where to sign up.”

  “Really?”

  She took my hand again and squeezed. “Really!”

  “What about my dad?”

  “He’ll get over it. Besides, he makes everyone try out again each year. Who’s to say I’d even make the team?”

  I laughed. “Modesty isn’t your color any more than pink is.”

  She tossed a pillow at me. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do, Captain.”

  I grinned at my best friend. “Let’s go start a softball team!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Casey

  So far, my second day of junior year was going great!

  Take that, Universe!

  I was so excited about starting to recruit for the softball team that I didn’t have time to worry about the stupid Tattler. Alex and I both had a study period before lunch and our teachers let us go to the library to do more research on all things softball.

  It had actually been easier than I suspected to convince my teacher to let me trade study hall for softball prep. It seems I wasn’t the only one who’d been secretly rooting for Northwood to show a little more equality when it came to women’s sports.

  “It’s about time Northwood got a softball team,” Mrs. Wright said. “I’m so proud of you, Casey. You’re doing something great for the students here. If there’s anything you need at all don’t hesitate to ask.”