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

by Benjamin, Christina

  She looked up at me grinning. “You’re thinking pretty far ahead considering this is our first date.”

  “First of many I hope,” I said confidently.

  I couldn’t help it. The girl made me feel as light as the helium balloons tied to my truck.

  Casey’s cheeks turned the prettiest shade of pink. “I think it’s safe to say you’ll get a second date.”

  I squeezed her sides until she was giggling, the sound as perfect as angels singing. Casey rolled on top of me, breathless with laughter. She gazed into my eyes and I drowned in them. “Tonight has been perfect,” she whispered.

  I kissed her softly. “I told you. This is only the beginning.”

  Casey pressed her lips to mine and once again the world disappeared, stopping just for us.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Casey

  The sun finally lost its battle with the sky. All around us I saw starlight and balloons as Lucas plied me with kisses and silly banter. Being with him was as easy as breathing. Was this what falling in love felt like? If so, why didn’t people do it more often? It was addicting. I could lie here forever, sustained by nothing but his lips.

  I wondered if Lucas had any idea how much tonight meant to me. The fact that he’d picked this place, this movie . . . it was like my own personal fairy godmother was guiding him. A shooting star caught my eye and my heart squeezed painfully. Not now, Mom.

  Like lots of little girls, I’d grown up wishing upon stars. And girls without moms . . . well, we spent a lot of our wishes trying to change our fate.

  I used to wish my mom would come back every time I saw a shooting star. When I got older, I used to think spotting one meant my mom was listening or watching so I’d talk to her and tell her all my secrets. Now, I knew better. But I still couldn’t see a shooting star without thinking of her and getting teary-eyed. And that was the last thing I needed to do on this perfect date.

  Luckily, the opening score of Funny Face roared to life through the speakers giving me the opportunity to come up for air. I sat up and wrapped my fingers around the string of a pink balloon.

  “The balloons were a nice touch,” I said once I had control of my emotions again.

  “It’s the most iconic scene from the film,” Lucas commented.

  “My mom loved balloons.”

  He stayed quiet, waiting for me to elaborate. I liked that about him. Most people didn’t know what to say when I brought up my mom. Usually they just said ‘sorry’ or looked uncomfortable, but not Lucas. He slid his hand into mine and squeezed in silent support.

  “She used to buy me a huge bouquet of pink balloons every year on my birthday.”

  “Is this too much?” he asked softly.

  “No, it’s nice actually. My dad stopped buying me balloons after she died. I think the memory was too painful for him.”

  “What about you?” Lucas asked.

  “I don’t know. I was so young when she died. I don’t have as many memories as he does. I think sometimes that’s a blessing.”

  “What do you remember about her?” he asked.

  “She looked like Audrey Hepburn. Someone told me that when I was little. That’s where this obsession comes from,” I said gesturing to the giant movie screen. “I watched every one of her films after I heard that.” I huffed a nervous laugh. “It’s weird, I know.”

  “Why is it weird?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I feel like it doesn’t fit the whole tomboy thing I’ve got going on,” I teased, knocking my beat-up Converse against his shoe.

  Lucas’s warm hands cupped my cheek. “Casey, I don’t care if you wear a dress, or a baseball jersey, or carry a bouquet of pink balloons around every day. I like you and all the things you’ve got going on.”

  That was it. Game over!

  If I thought I’d been falling for Lucas Hargrove before, this was the tipping point. The point of no return. When he pulled me into his arms and pressed his lips to mine again, I was no longer just falling, I was officially all in! In whatever this was—infatuation, obsession, love?

  All I knew was I’d never had such a perfect night and I didn’t want it to end.

  As another shooting star caught my eye, I couldn’t help myself. I closed my eyes and made a wish.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Casey

  Trojan Tattler:

  Look out, ladies. It seems someone thinks her internet status grants her special privileges. A makeover may have gotten you a softball team, Red, but a flirty dress and some promiscuous pecking doesn’t change your status. We know who you really are. Even Tom Ford can’t disguise tomboy.

  So much for wishing on stars . . .

  I snapped my phone shut and rubbed the sleep from my bloodshot eyes.

  Why had I checked the Tattler last night?

  My date with Lucas had been so incredibly perfect. I expected to float to sleep on a cloud. But instead, I’d tossed and turned all night after seeing the photo someone snapped of me and Lucas making out in the back of his truck. It had been expertly placed next to a terribly unflattering photo of me from seventh grade. Thanks to my braces, baseball tee, and poor choice of haircuts, I looked like a prepubescent Ed Sheeran impersonator.

  Talk about embarrassing!

  I’d only opened my phone to text Lucas goodnight, but I’d foolishly been tempted into opening the Tattler app after seeing all the new notifications. And now that I knew I was a Tattler target again, I began to worry that my dad would somehow see the photo of me and Lucas and get the wrong idea.

  All we’d done last night was hold hands and kiss, but the photo of us in the back of his truck made it look a lot less innocent than it was.

  The beep of a horn jolted me from my worries. I grabbed my backpack and ran out to catch my ride to school with Alex. I’d been planning on wearing one of the dresses her mom lent me, but after the fresh dose of wardrobe shaming from the Tattler, I opted for an old baseball jersey and jeans. It was the only thing in my closet that went with puffy bloodshot eyes.

  “Hey, teammate!” Alex greeted cheerfully.

  “Hey,” I muttered.

  “Why do you look like death?” She smirked. “Did you and Hargrove have a late night?”

  “Not in the way you’d think.”

  She pulled the car over. “What’s wrong? Did he do something? I will call my brothers right now if—”

  “Easy, Hoffa. Lucas was a perfect gentleman. It’s the Tattler we need to put a hit on.”

  Alex eased the car back onto the road and chewed her lip as I told her how my perfect first date had been ruined by the Tattler.

  “I bet you it’s Lexy,” Alex said when I’d finished my rant. “She’s the only one I know who’s evil enough to go to these lengths.”

  “She certainly seems to hate me enough, but it can’t be her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, the Tattler has been around since we were in grade school. Besides, Lexy can’t even spell half the words in the Tattler posts.”

  “Okay maybe she’s not the mastermind behind the stupid site but that doesn’t mean she’s not the one sending in all the tips.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said slumping in my seat. “I just want to pretend it didn’t happen.”

  * * *

  Alex was uncharacteristically quiet as she walked me to my locker. I couldn’t tell if she was still plotting a Tattler takedown or was perhaps trying to plan her revenge on Lexy. Either way, I didn’t want to be the cause of any more drama.

  “It’ll be fine, Alex. Let’s just focus on softball. Today’s our last day of recruiting and we need a few more girls to fill our roster. That’s plenty to keep my mind occupied.”

  Alex nodded, but then put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Casey. I was hoping this was behind you.”

  “Me too.”

  Alex forced a hopeful smile. “Well, somehow your viral video got you a softball team. Maybe something positive will come out of this scandal, to
o?”

  “Yeah, like a positive pregnancy test,” Lexy’s irritating voice interjected.

  I turned to see her leaning against her locker, which of course was right next to mine.

  Thank you, alphabet!

  Emily, Jillian and the rest of the lipstick mafia was by Lexy’s side, too.

  Lexy twirled a piece of her bleached blonde hair. “Lucas Hargrove, huh? Nice score, Carrot Top.”

  I bit my tongue and opened my locker blocking her face. But not even that shut her up.

  “I mean Lucas is no Archer, but you couldn’t get a guy like that if you tried.”

  Alex gave Lexy a murderous look. Not wanting my best friend to get detention for tearing Lexy’s extensions out, I slammed my locker and fought my own battle. “Lexy, for the last time, I’m not trying to get Archer.”

  “What’s this about me?”

  We all turned to see Archer Montgomery standing in the hall like he’d just fallen out of the pages of an athletic catalog—all tousled hair and tight football jersey.

  “Hey, babe,” Lexy greeted, practically gluing herself to his side. “Ready for the big game tonight?”

  He gave her a peck on the cheek. “Always.”

  “Wanna walk me to class?” she asked, her voice dripping with possession.

  “We get it. He’s yours.” Alex muttered, so only I could hear. “You don’t have to mark your territory.”

  I stifled my laugh, but it still drew Archer’s attention. “Actually,” he said, locking eyes with me, “I was hoping to talk to Casey about something.”

  Lexy’s voice hit a new octave of irritating. “What could you two have to talk about?”

  “It’s sports stuff, babe,” he reassured Lexy. When Archer looked at me, he added, “I was wondering if you could ask your dad a favor for me?”

  I blinked at him in confusion while Lexy shot daggers at me with her eyes.

  “My coach wanted me to talk to him about ordering some new equipment,” Archer explained.

  “Uh, can’t the football coach order his own equipment?” Alex challenged.

  Archer shifted uncomfortably under our stares. “Well, yeah. But it’s a rush order and since Coach Beeler’s the athletic director he needs to sign off on it.” Archer looked at me. “It’s kind of time sensitive.”

  His eyes were so pleading I took pity on him. “Fine but we’ll have to hurry. I can’t be late to first period.”

  “I can go with you right now,” Archer said, already starting down the hall, which forced me to follow.

  “See you in the library,” Alex called as I strode away with Archer.

  I gave her a wave over my shoulder and kept going. I didn’t want to turn around and see the look Lexy was giving me. I could practically feel the knives she was mentally hurling at my back.

  * * *

  Halfway to the Athletic wing, Archer grabbed my hand and pulled me into an alcove.

  “Hey!” I yelled, only to earn his hot, giant hand over my mouth.

  “Shhh!” he hissed, his blue eyes wide and pleading.

  After a breath I nodded, and he removed his hand.

  “What was that for, Montgomery?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t need to see your dad. I just didn’t know how else to get you alone.” He ran a hand through his hair looking more frazzled than if he were down by eight in the fourth quarter. “Your friend Alex is intense.”

  “For good reason,” I muttered still glaring at him. “Why are we hiding in the shadows like a couple of creepers?”

  “Because I need your help.”

  “With what? Ninja training?”

  He smirked. “No, but that does sound fun.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Focus, Archer.”

  “Okay, sorry. Geez! I just need help with math.”

  I blinked. Math? That was the big, urgent secret?

  “I bombed my test yesterday and if Coach finds out he’ll bench me for the next game.”

  “Okay, well, the semester just started. I’m sure you can get a tutor to help you out.”

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m talking to you. My math teacher agreed to give me a make-up test on Monday, so I need to start cramming ASAP.”

  I was suddenly regretting boasting about my math skills. “Archer, I’m not an official tutor.”

  “Exactly! That’s why this is perfect.”

  “Um, how is this perfect?”

  “I’m already being tutored in three subjects. Adding a fourth would be totally humiliating. Not to mention that Jason Wu is the math tutor and I’m pretty sure we don’t speak the same language.”

  I huffed. “Jason Wu speaks English perfectly well.”

  Archer paled. “Oh no, not like that! I know he speaks English. I just meant, like, he’s a brainiac and I’m, well, obviously not. I need someone more like you.”

  I crossed my arms, quickly losing patience. “Calling me stupid isn’t really the best way to get me to help you.”

  Archer grabbed the back of his neck in frustration as the warning bell rang. “Let me start over. I need help with studying for my make-up exam. If I fail it, I’m benched for one of the biggest games of the year. So, I’m humbly begging you to help me cram in some math that actually makes sense because you’re the only smart person I know who’s easy to talk to.” He smiled, his cheeks reddening. “Except for right now.”

  I couldn’t help but find amusement in how flustered he seemed. “Archer, I’d love to help you, honestly, but I’m sorta swamped with my own life crisis at the moment.”

  “But you said you’d help if I needed it.”

  He was making those puppy dog eyes that made most of the girls at Northwood weak in the knees. But my weak knees belonged to Lucas.

  I sighed. “I know, but you need help now, right?”

  He nodded. “I need to start studying like yesterday.”

  “Well unfortunately I’ve got to finish recruiting a softball team today and then put together a training program. So unless you have a time machine, I don’t think that’s going to give me enough time to tutor you.” Not to mention that your girlfriend would probably skin me alive if she knew we were even talking about spending time together.

  Archer grinned. “If I can solve your recruiting problems, you’ll help me?”

  “I mean I guess, but . . .”

  He was already backing away, his smile growing larger by the minute. “Say no more, Beeler. I’ve got this.”

  Knowing the late bell was about to ring, I didn’t have time to argue. Instead I sprinted to my first period class, skidding to my seat in the nick of time.

  Maybe I should add sprinting to class to my softball training program. It had certainly reminded me that I could be in better shape. Cutting lawns left me with a wiry strength, but I guess it wasn’t a good source of cardio.

  My mind was spinning through ideas for endurance training when the speakers crackled to life overhead signaling the start of morning announcements. I normally tuned out our school secretary’s nasally voice, but today, I was listening intently to make sure Mrs. Mayble announced that I was holding the final softball sign-ups in the cafeteria at lunch.

  But when she got to the sports programing for the week, a smooth male voice took over.

  “Ladies of Northwood. This is your Quarterback, Archer Montgomery. I have a special announcement for you. Our very own Casey Beeler is hosting softball sign ups in the cafeteria today. It’s your last chance to join and be a part of history as the very first Lady Trojans host tryouts for our brand-new softball team. I’ll be there showing my support on behalf of the football team today so make sure you stop by and say hello. Go Trojans!”

  There was a fumbling of the microphone and Mrs. Mayble came back on, but I was too stunned to absorb anything she was saying.

  Had Archer seriously just hijacked my softball recruiting?

  Thanks to him every girl in Northwood would be clamoring to join the team. I guess it would get me my players, but I didn’t wa
nt girls who were only signing up because they were interested in talking to the school’s most popular athlete.

  My phone lit up with a message from Alex. It seemed I wasn’t the only one with this concern.

  Alex: What is Archer talking about?

  I was about to text back when I noticed my teacher standing over me with her hand out. In my haste to get to class I’d forgotten to silence my phone and now it looked like I’d be spending the day without it.

  Sighing, I handed my phone over and opened my textbook.

  It was going to be a long day.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lucas

  “Stop staring at your phone,” Grant ordered. “You’ve texted Casey like twenty times already.”

  “Only six,” I replied defensively.

  Why wouldn’t she text me back? I thought last night had been the start of something beautiful. But then I saw the Tattler post this morning and worried it might have spooked Casey. It certainly gave me pause.

  Whoever snapped that photo of us had made our very PG date look NC-17.

  If my parents saw it, it would be the last date I went on. Which of course made me worry what would happen if Coach Beeler saw it. I was hoping to talk to Casey. I wanted reassurance that she wasn’t letting the Tattler scare her away, as well as get a heads-up if her dad was going to try to kill me at practice today.

  I glanced at my phone again and refreshed the screen anxiously.

  It also didn’t help that I had Archer Montgomery in my head again. When I’d heard him say Casey’s name during morning announcements I’d choked on my water bottle.

  Casey had assured me that there was nothing going on between them, but it definitely deflated my ego a bit to know the girl I liked was hanging out with the most popular guy in school. I wasn’t opposed to a little competition for her affection, but Archer-freaking-Montgomery? Come on! That would be like me going up against a Major Leaguer.