Ridorkulous (Dorky Duet Book 1)

by Mary Frame

  “Nothing. That’s why I’m asking you, you dolt. Who are you competing against?”

  “Some other college student.” Should I mention she’s also Abby’s former roommate? Maybe not. I don’t want to hear Annabel rant and rave about Abby again.

  Instead, I glance around to see if Reese has come back yet. I finally spot her in the opposite corner of the yard, watching people mill about. She’s still wearing her cutoff shorts but she’s changed into a large yellow T-shirt. She glances around and then takes a big step back, disappearing into some hedges. Literally, she’s hiding in the bushes.

  So weird.

  “There,” I nod in her direction. “Two o’clock.”

  Annabel searches the yard, then lifts her brows at me. “The one in the bushes?” She laughs. “All I can see is hair.”

  “Yep.”

  “Huh. This will be very interesting. You’ll have to introduce me.”

  Before I can give her an emphatic hell to the no, Jude jumps on the deck with a megaphone in one hand.

  “Thank you everyone for being here.” His voice booms out over the assembled crowd. People inside file out into the backyard. “The books are about to open and you will have fifteen minutes to finalize your bets. I know you are all aquiver in antici . . . pation.”

  He grins as the crowd groans.

  “So, let me give you a little taste of what we’re cooking here tonight. We have one room available at Casa de Jude and two people vying for a chance to be my roommate. Can you blame them? I mean, look at me.” He poses suggestively, opening one side of his cat-covered robe to reveal a surprisingly ripped chest.

  Jeering laughter fills the yard and a masculine voice yells, “I’d do you!”

  “I know, babies, I know. Calm yourselves. What we have planned here is a series of events spanning over the next two weeks, starting tonight. It will be Jude Parker’s Bedlam!”

  There are some whistles and half-hearted applause.

  “We have two competitors who will be engaging in a battle of will, brains, strength, and cunning to see who will qualify to live at this humble abode.” He gestures to the house behind him.

  “You, my lovely babies, will be given the opportunity to choose who you think will emerge victorious right before each game begins. I will not be disclosing the details of each challenge until the betting books have filled so choose wisely. I’m glad you all showed up tonight because there will be only one chance, tonight, after our first match, to bet on who will be our ultimate champion at the end of all seven games. The winner will be determined here, in this exact spot, in exactly two weeks.”

  He’s got the crowd interested now, everyone focused and alert.

  “Without further ado, let me present our challengers. Front and center, we have our first competitor.” He points at me, and a blinding spotlight flicks on, pointed straight at my face. I cover my eyes but it’s too late. I sense more than see the eyes of the crowd swing in my direction since I’m still blinking away the brightness. Jude keeps speaking into the megaphone, like he’s suddenly turned into the “let’s get ready to rumble” announcer. “Standing at six foot two, 170 pounds of lean muscle, this fighter is a beast on the track and not too shabby in the classroom. Known for his perseverance and determination even in the face of unbeatable odds and questionable ex-girlfriends, I give you Mr. Fitz Moreland!”

  There are some cheers and catcalls and once the sound peters out, Jude keeps going.

  “In the north corner, standing in a bush over there, may I present the competition.” The light leaves my face and heads over to the hedges. She startles at the bright beam of attention and her face immediately flushes pink, but she stands straighter and crosses her arms over her chest. “Don’t let that meek demeanor fool you, babies. This tiny lady has a mind like a steel trap and a hidden, but emerging sense of self-preservation that may be the cinch in this race. May I present to you Ms. Reese Jackson, daughter of the famed Jackson artists!” Scattered applause and murmurs meet his announcement.

  Reese’s parents are the Jacksons? They don’t show their faces very often, but everyone knows who they are.

  How did Jude know? I doubt Reese offered up the information.

  “The bets start now, so give your money to Beast.” Jude bows with a flourish and exits the patio.

  “I’ll see you after,” Annabel tells me before disappearing into the crowd, where people are forming a haphazard line.

  I find my eyes drawn once again to Reese. Over by the bushes. Alone.

  Once again, a flicker of shame and guilt wiggles through me.

  I’ve been rude to her since last night. My momma would skin my hide if she knew how I was behaving toward a lady. Or toward anyone.

  And with that thought, my feet carry me to the corner of the yard, where she’s watching the revelry with a blank face.

  The moment she sees me coming, her whole body goes rigid and she looks down at the ground, like she can will herself invisible if she only concentrates hard enough.

  “Hey.” I stop next to her.

  She doesn’t respond and we stand in silence while uneasy tension builds a stony wall between us.

  I clear my throat. “What do you think we’re gonna have to do?” I ask, for lack of anything else to say.

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.” The words are rude, but her tone is just matter-of-fact.

  “Fair enough.”

  I should walk away. We barely know each other and what we do know we don’t apparently like, but maybe I should try to get to know something about her. Maybe that will help me defeat her. Find her weak spots. Or something.

  The thoughts make me frown. I’ve never been good at scheming.

  I watch the crowd with her, wanting to speak but also not wanting to be the first to break the silence.

  The yard is full of people milling around the keg, laughing, flirting. The line for the betting dwindles until there are only a couple left.

  “Hey!” One of the last people in line, a brunette in a sorority shirt, jumps and pushes at the guy behind her. “Keep your hands to yourself, asshole!”

  “I’m just messing around,” the guy says, loud enough to get the attention of half the people in the yard.

  Beast reaches out, picks up the guy by the collar of his polo shirt with one meaty paw, and dangles him in the air. “Put me down!” the guy yells, legs kicking. “I didn’t do nothing!”

  Jude’s voice booms out over his megaphone, echoing over the crowd. “Now listen here, sir. We live by a code of gentlemanly behavior around these parts. There will be no getting handsy unless it’s agreed upon with enthusiastic, affirmative consent.”

  He gives a short nod to Beast, who’s still holding the guy by the scruff. He turns and walks around the corner of the house. The handsy guy keeps yelling even after they disappear, but it’s mostly drowned out by the rest of the crowd’s clapping.

  I huff a surprised laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a party quite like this. Reese is pressing her lips together, holding back a smile.

  Our eyes meet and a small crack forms in the wall of tension between us.

  Beast returns—alone—and finishes getting the final bets in. Then Jude gets the crowd’s attention once again with his megaphone.

  “It’s time to reveal the details of tonight’s shenanigans. As you can see, we have here a pool full of whipped cream. Hiding somewhere inside are two pieces of bubble gum. The challenge for our competitors will be to locate the gum in the pool. The first person to find a piece and blow a bubble will be our day-one winner. The catch . . .” His eyes find ours. “You cannot use your hands.”

  Reese’s lips are pressed into a white line, her face even paler than before.

  I put a hand on her arm. “It will be okay,” I murmur.

  She looks at my hand and then pulls away, not meeting my eyes. “It would be better if we weren’t friends.”

  Maybe Jude’s right. Not as weak as she seems.

  “Fine.�
�� I stalk toward the pool, ignoring the brush of disappointment at her words. She’s right. We are in a competition.

  Jude stages us on either side of the pool, then hands us each a set of goggles. I pull mine on and watch through the wavy lenses as Reese struggles to yank hers over her braids.

  “Are we ready?” he yells into the megaphone, riling up the crowd.

  Cheers and whoops and hollers fill the air.

  “It begins with one blow.” He holds up the whistle.

  “Title of your sex tape!” someone in the crowd calls out, instigating a chorus of groans and laughter.

  “All right, all right, you animals.” Jude waves a hand to shush them. He turns and meets my eyes, then his gaze switches to Reese. “Ready?” he asks in a low volume.

  We nod.

  “Set,” he says louder.

  I keep my gaze on Jude as he lifts the metal whistle to his mouth.

  The shrill sound pierces the air.

  Reese shocks me by flinging herself full force into the pool, sending foam flying, faster than a bee-stung stallion.

  The surprise puts me at a disadvantage and I dive in a split second after her.

  Just before white fluff covers my goggles, I get a flash of her determined face, eyes closed, mouth chomping, body twisting like a champ.

  I was not expecting her to be so aggressive. I want to laugh but if I don’t focus, I’m gonna end up on the couch tonight.

  I can’t see anything. The goggles might be protecting my irises from sugar overload but the plastic is quickly coated in goop. I know I can’t use my hands, but he said nothing about feet. I feel around, wiggling the rest of my body into the pool, concentrating on the sensations and attempting to locate the piece of gum.

  The space is small—no more than five or six feet across. My long limbs are already squished and I get the occasional jab from Reese. Mostly unintentional . . . I think. Except for one hard, purposeful knee to the ribs.

  It doesn’t hurt, it makes me smile.

  I didn’t think she had it in her.

  And then it’s there, a small rock-like object near my knee. I twist in the pool to bring my face toward it.

  There. Near Reese’s waist.

  My head hits her ribs but I can’t help it. I latch on to the gum, getting a knee in the head for my efforts.

  I sit up out of the pool with the prize in my mouth, chewing fast.

  It’s hard as granite. What the hell?

  My goggles are nearly impossible to see through, but I can make out the dark outline of Reese as she sits up too, chomping on her own tough piece of gum like it’s her last meal and she’s half starved.

  But she’s too late.

  I blow and a small bubble emerges.

  Jude immediately lifts one of my arms into the air, like we’re in a boxing ring instead of a kiddie pool covered in cartoon dinosaurs.

  “And the winner by a bubble yummy is Fitz Moreland!” he yells into the megaphone.

  The crowd is cheering and I still can’t see anything. I use my free hand to wipe my face and yank off the goggles.

  Jude hands me the key to the room, a small piece of metal hanging from a thick gold chain.

  I pull it over my head and glance down at Reese, who’s still sitting in the pool, covered in sticky white cream, looking like ten miles of a bad road.

  “Hey.”

  She looks up at me, a drowned kitten.

  She’s kinda cute, actually, even with her hair sticking up in a crazy mess of dark ripples and spikes.

  “Fitz, introduce me to your competition.” Then Annabel is there, standing on the other side of the pool and smiling at Reese like she’s her new best friend.

  I sigh. “Reese, this is my sister. I apologize in advance for anything she says or does or doesn’t do. Or anything at all, really.”

  “Shut it, pool boy. Here, I brought you a towel.”

  Of course, it’s not for me. She hands it to Reese, who accepts the gesture gratefully and steps out of the kiddie pool, wrapping the towel around her narrow shoulders.

  Before I can make any comments, Annabel drags Reese off toward the house, talking a mile a minute.

  What is she up to?

  5

  You’ll never do a whole lot unless you’re brave enough to try.

  —Dolly Parton

  Reese

  Annabel isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met. For one, she’s helpful. She clears a direct path through the line to the bathroom, allowing me to get rinsed off without having to wait around in sticky misery.

  And then when I get out, wrapped only in a robe, she’s waiting with the room key in hand so I can get in and change into clean clothes.

  It’s a relief when I’m safely ensconced in the small space. Alone. I’ve had more than I can take of socializing for one day.

  I can’t even believe what just happened. I jumped into a pool full of whipped cream in front of a crowd of people. With Fitz Moreland.

  And that’s not all. I lost.

  Lost.

  And I was so close.

  I should have tried harder. I can beat any task with a little effort and perseverance, even something as asinine as searching for gum in a tub full of whipped cream.

  I pull one of my old shirts from the bag Granny made me take, a bright red T-shirt with a crow on the front, the word nevermore sketched above it.

  I wore it my first day at Blue Falls High and then never again.

  There’s a knock at the door. “Reese? Are you dressed?”

  Annabel is out there. And she still has the key. She could come in if she wanted.

  “Uh . . . almost.” With no time to search for something else, I tug the shirt over my head and then grab a clean pair of pants from the dresser, throwing them on with haste.

  I unlock the door and open it.

  Annabel smiles and steps into the room, closing the door and dampening the noise from the rest of the house.

  “So, this is it, huh?” She glances around. “All this work for a space smaller than a cell block.”

  “It’s better than the street.”

  “True.”

  The resemblance between Fitz and Annabel is strong. They both have oval-shaped faces, gold-tinted hair, and chocolate-brown eyes. Annabel isn’t as wiry as Fitz though. Fitz is all lean muscle and rugged masculinity.

  Annabel is . . . something else. Voluptuous. Wide, smiling mouth, red lipstick. She’s one of those girls who can pull off wearing wrap dresses, like she is tonight. A simple black dress with ballet flats. I’d look like a beanpole in curtains.

  “I love your shirt.”

  I glance down in surprise. “You do?”

  “I love Poe. Did you know he wrote more comedy than horror?”

  “Yes. Only fifteen out of about seventy stories were of the darker variety.” And before I can stop it, my mouth runs away with me. “Poe is largely remembered because a nemesis spread false accounts of him after his death, painting Poe as someone with a dark and hedonistic history. He wasn’t, and it backfired and made Poe even more of a legend.”

  My favorite factoid. I stop and brace myself for an odd glance and a quick departure.

  But Annabel surprises me. “Ah, yes. Rufus Wilmot Griswold.”

  I blink. “Yes.”

  She didn’t look at me funny and run away; she actually knows about Poe too and doesn’t think it’s odd to spout random facts during a conversation.

  She sits on the edge of the bed. “I was named after one of his poems, Annabel Lee.”

  My mouth pops open in surprise. “That’s so cool.”

  “You think so?” Her nose wrinkles.

  “I would love to be named after a literary figure,” I say with feeling, sitting next to her on the bed. “I was named after my mother’s favorite candy.”

  She laughs. “So, tell me about yourself. You from Blue Falls?” Her eyes are curious, not spiteful or mean, and her tone is interested and friendly, like she actually wants to talk to me. I’m st
ill wary. But there’s no passive-aggressive politeness to her words, unlike everyone else I’ve met, including her brother, who seems to hate every second in my company. Except for earlier when he was trying to be nice. Probably so he could suss out my weak spots for eventual attack and pillage.

  “Yes. I was born here.”

  Her head tilts. “Huh. I’ve never seen you around.”

  “That’s intentional.”

  She grins. “Were you homeschooled or what?”

  “For a time. I started at Blue Falls High sophomore year.”

  She watches me, lips pursed. “I really hope you win this whole competition thing.”

  My brows lift to my hairline. “But Fitz is your brother.”

  She shrugs. “Little brother. By three years.”

  “He’s still family,” I point out.

  “He’s a pain in the ass. Besides, this whole situation is good for him.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because his heretofore blissful existence has basically been shattered. I mean, come on, Reese. If you’re from here and you went to Blue Falls High, you know how Fitz and Abby are. Or were, I guess. He thought she was the most important thing in his life, and now he’s seeing her for what she truly is. Now maybe he can move on and be happy. I don’t think he even realizes how unhappy he’s been.”

  I’m not sure how to respond. She’s talking so openly and I’m not used to having candid conversations like this with someone I barely know.

  “Maybe I can help you, even. If the opportunity arises.”

  “You want to help me beat him?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want him to lose.”

  “Sometimes losing is better than winning. You can’t grow without a little pain.”

  A faint glimmer of guilt moves through me. Conspiring with Fitz’s sister to make him lose? I would feel terrible if Scarlett pitted herself against me. On the other hand, it’s not my fault Annabel is offering her assistance, just like it’s not my fault Fitz is having a hard go of it.

  I’m a victim of circumstance. As a matter of fact, he triggered all of this to begin with.