Head to Head (On Pointe Book 2)

by Penelope Freed

  “Hey, I wasn’t sure you’d pick up,” he says, smiling.

  “Well, I didn’t mean to, and now I’m regretting it since I’m still all gross and sweaty from class tonight.” I wave a hand up and down my torso. I’m still wearing my leotard and tights underneath my leggings and t-shirt. My mane of wavy red hair is sticking up in all kinds of crazy ways from being in a bun all afternoon. This is the first time he’s seen my face since our almost date, could I possibly look any worse?

  Trevor looks just like he did in the selfie he sent me at the track meet.

  “You look fine to me T,” Trevor reassures me. “I thought you might want some company while you do your homework?”

  “Oh.” My conversation with the girls flashes through my mind. “Did you talk to Tyler or something?”

  “Huh?” Trevor looks confused. “No? Should I have?” Whenever the topic of Tyler comes up Trevor gets a little defensive, not that I can blame him. He hasn’t been here to see how utterly adorable Tyler and Olivia are together, and even though we talked about it the other day, I can imagine it’s hard for him to believe me without seeing it.

  “Never mind, it’s not important,” I say quickly, hoping to drop the subject. “You never told me how you did at your track meet last weekend. Also, are you any good at Algebra? I have a test soon and I have no idea if I’m doing this review sheet correctly.”

  “I didn’t? I qualified for state in the 400 meter and the 1500m. State’s in a few weeks. And I actually am pretty decent at Algebra. Show me what has you stumped.”

  I show him and Trevor explains it to me. We work through another couple of equations together before I remember that he also had homework to do. “I think I got it now. Why don’t you work on your paper and I’ll holler if I need help?” I smile at his face on the screen and prop my phone up against a stack of books on my desk so I can see him. We work in companionable silence for a while. This is nice.

  “Did I do this one right?” I hold the phone over my work so Trevor can see what I did.

  “Yup. Gold star for you,” Trevor teases. “How many questions do you have left?”

  “That was the last one. On to English.” I tuck my math book away in my backpack and pull out my copy of The Merchant of Venice.

  “Hey T?” Trevor looks thoughtful. I think. It’s hard to tell on the tiny screen.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why did you ask if I’d talked to Tyler?”

  Dang it, I hoped he’d forgotten about that.

  “Ummmm…” I stall. “I was talking to Olivia earlier and she said she and Tyler do their homework together. Like this.” I shrug, not looking at the screen, pretending to read my book. I can’t look at his face, I don’t want to see him laughing at me.

  “I see.” Trevor doesn’t say anything for a while, so I attempt to read the next page in the play. I read the same line over and over again, completely distracted, until I can’t take it anymore and I peek at the screen. Trevor’s just looking at me, silently studying me. “There she is,” he says, when I finally make eye contact with him. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t spoken to Tyler for a few months, probably not since after your competition when he sent me that photo he took of you at dinner.” I’d almost forgotten about that, so much happened that night. Olivia and I got into the biggest fight we’d ever had and said a lot of ugly things. I’m so glad we’ve managed to smooth things over.

  Trevor keeps talking, “I just wanted to have an excuse to hang out with you again and I knew you still had homework to do tonight. I thought doing it together would make it a little less horrible?”

  Oh. Oh. Maybe I’m not as deep in the friendzone with Trevor as I thought? But don’t I want to be? Don’t I need to be? I’ve sworn off dating exactly because I don’t have the time to date. But having a friend to do homework is nice. “I’m glad you called,” I say. “I’m so busy all the time...this was nice. Having a friend to do homework with, I mean.”

  Was that disappointment on Trevor’s face at the word “friend?” He covered it with a smile so quickly I can’t be sure. “I am happy to be your homework buddy whenever you want.”

  “Even if you have all this time to do it before me?” I think about how he said he was finished before I had even started my last rehearsal of the night. How can this possibly work?

  “I can always save something to work on with you if you want.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that for me.”

  “You’re not asking, I’m offering.”

  “But…”

  “T, don’t worry about me, I got this. Please?”

  I can’t argue with him. I try a different tactic, I have to remind us both what my goals are. “Well, don’t forget I’ll be in New York starting on Monday, so obviously don’t wait for me then.”

  Trevor is silent for a bit, studying my face. This time I don’t look away and I study his face right back. Finally, he asks, “When do you leave?”

  Homework forgotten, I grab the phone and hold it up while I speak. “We’re taking the red eye on Sunday night. The competition doesn’t start until Tuesday, so on Monday Ms. Parker said she would show us around the city and do a last-minute class and rehearsal with me. One of her old roommates hooked her up with a studio for a few hours on Monday.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  I bite my lip before I answer. “Yeah, it’s a huge competition. Everyone else who’s going to be there is going to be really good. Probably better than me.”

  “Hey, no putting yourself down. I don’t know anything about ballet, obviously, but you wouldn’t have won the regional Grand Prix if you weren’t good.” Trevor smiles at me and I can’t stop the answering smile on my own face.

  Staying just friends is going to be harder than I thought.

  I shake the Tupperware in my hands, mixing up the salad I’d brought for lunch. It’s a warm May afternoon, perfect for sitting outside in the grass during our break after class today. Ms. Parker is leaving tonight so she and her husband, Mike, can visit with some of her friends. I’m equal parts nervous, scared and excited for the finals, but I’m trying to keep myself calm and absorb some sense of normalcy from my best friends before I leave tomorrow night.

  For once it was just me and Lisa. Olivia declared she wanted boba for lunch and, after a hilarious internal debate, Katy decided she wanted boba more than she didn’t want to hang out with Olivia, so she went with her. After what Katy told me at Hunter’s meet, I was surprised, but happy, she was going to try and put it aside so we could all be friends again.

  I glanced down at my phone but for once it wasn’t overflowing with texts from Trevor.

  “No messages from Trevor?” Lisa asks, watching me check my phone.

  “No, I knew there wouldn’t be. He told me last night that he was off on a long training run today for the half marathon he’s running next month.” I think running twelve miles sounds boring as all heck, but what do I know? I probably shouldn’t pass judgement.

  “Do you still think you don’t have time for dating? You seem to be doing okay with making time for Trevor,” Lisa asks as I stuff a bite of salad in my mouth.

  I think about my answer while I chew. “We don’t have time to date, Lisa. Trevor knows that if I don’t respond it’s because I’m busy. And he’s just a friend. Besides, he lives all the way in Seattle, how on Earth would that even work?” I interrupt myself with another bite of my lunch.

  “Yeah, but don’t you think what you’re doing counts for something? Haven’t you done your homework with him the last two nights in a row?”

  “It’s homework, Lisa. He’s helping me with my Algebra. It’s not like we talk about anything serious.” Not that I wouldn’t, but it hasn’t come up and I don’t know what I’m doing so I keep to the topic of homework and school. It seems safest.

  “But you like him, don’t you?”


  “Yeah.” Is that the sun or a blush warming up my cheeks? “But like I said. We’re just friends and I’m happy to keep it that way.”

  Lisa eyes me thoughtfully. “I think you’re wasting an opportunity.” At my surprised look, she keeps going. “Trevor is perfect. He likes you—he understands your busy schedule and doesn’t get mad about it. He lives in another state, so he can’t get mad if you can’t spend tons of time with him. It’s all very convenient, if you ask me.”

  I don’t answer. Lisa isn’t saying anything I haven’t already thought myself. If I were to try and date, Trevor is the most convenient boy that could have fallen in my lap. And that right there makes me question my feelings for him. Have I switched my long-standing crush on the conveniently unattainable Tyler to the also conveniently-unattainable Trevor? But Tyler never knew who I was, so my pining never ran the risk of hurting him. Trevor is very real, very much aware of me, and I stand a very good chance of hurting him. What happens if I get offered a spot in a year-round school?

  “If I was going to make the time to date someone Lisa, I wouldn’t want to do it just because it was convenient. Fitting a boyfriend into my life would be a big deal. I know Olivia and Katy don’t really get it, but I thought you did. I only have so much time in a day, I have to stay focused on dance if I’m going to have a chance at doing this. It doesn’t matter how nice Trevor is. We’re just friends.”

  Lisa doesn’t say anything for a long minute, plucking at the grass beside her. She sighs and turns her face up to the sun. “Sometimes having goals sucks, huh?”

  I laugh, she’s so right. “Yes, it does.”

  Chapter Ten

  Lisa

  I didn’t hear from Hunter all weekend. Which is fine. One hundred percent what I wanted. There was no reason to hear from him. If he had any ideas on our project, he could have texted me, but I guess he didn’t think about it at all. Which is fine.

  I may have spent Sunday afternoon researching how we could measure lactic acid accumulation. And I may have written down a few pages of notes on my thoughts, but it’s fine. I’m sure he had better things to do than work on it with, or without, me. Maybe they had everyone over at their house, the weather was gorgeous all weekend.

  Walking to Chem, I debate sitting in my normal seat.

  Pros—hiding didn’t work and anyway, Mr. Fitzgerald told us we were going to have class time to work on our project so sitting there will save time later. If I don’t make a fuss then I won’t draw attention, right?

  Cons—Hunter’s smile. The way he smells like soap and mint. I know I’ll be completely distracted by him. My notes are getting sloppier and sloppier because every time he moves, I stop paying attention to Mr. Fitzgerald.

  I sit in my normal seat.

  “Morning, Sport,” Hunter says, dropping onto the stool next to me. I nod, reminding myself to stay cool. I keep a firm grip on my heart, it is not supposed to do that peculiar thump every time he smiles at me. I don’t look at him directly. If I don’t look at the smile it doesn’t have as much effect on me.

  “Morning,” I say quietly, keeping my eyes on my notebook. “How was your weekend?” There, that was a perfectly reasonable question, right? I’m acutely aware of not only Hunter’s eyes on my face, but ever since Friday, I can’t stop being aware of the way the other girls in class are eyeing me as we talk. The last thing I want is for rumors to start spreading about us. I’m surprised Katy hasn’t heard anything yet, but I guess she stays away from the gossip in school the same way Hannah and I do.

  Hunter leans an arm on the table, resting his head on his hand, blocking the eyes of half the classroom. “It was pretty boring. I mostly did homework and kicked Jack and Tyler’s asses at FIFA.” Hunter shrugs. Thankfully Mr. Fitzgerald starts class, saving me from having to come up with a response.

  We fall into our usual companionable silence, taking notes and listening to his lecture for the first half of class. I don’t even notice that we’ve been unconsciously sharing his colored pens until we both reach for a green one at the same time, his fingers brushing mine and sending a tingle through me. I freeze and glance up at his face. If I hadn’t looked, I would have missed the quick grin and dimple that flashes across his face, even though he never takes his eyes off what Mr. Fitzgerald is writing on the board.

  “Alright class, we have thirty minutes left before the bell. I’m going to give you the rest of the class period to meet with your partner and decide on your research subject. I need a written proposal of your idea, with a proposed method of measurement, by tomorrow morning.”

  Hunter turns to me with a knowing smile. “So, how much research did you do over the weekend?”

  I pull the pages of notes I’ve written out of my notebook and hand them over. I’ve come up with a few different methods of measuring lactic acid breakdown, depending on how much lab time and access we have. Hunter pulls an equal number of note-covered pages from his binder and hands them over to me. He spent his weekend working on the project? Okay universe, you can stop now. He’s adorable, thoughtful, driven, and pulling his own weight in this group project? This is getting ridiculous.

  I stuff down the silly crush that’s trying to remind me of its presence, and focus on respecting that fact that he’s putting as much effort into this as I am. Over the years, I’ve accepted the fact that my group project partners will sit back and let me do the bulk of the work. Generally, I prefer it that way so I can make sure the project is up to my standards, I’m not about to let someone else’s lack of effort lower my grade and risk my parents making me stay home from dance to study. This is a first.

  “Can I look through this while you look through mine?” Hunter asks, rustling the papers. “Looks like we got a head start on everyone else,” he adds with a wink. I nod my head dumbly and start looking through his notes. Skimming the pages, it’s obvious he and I have a lot of the same ideas, in fact it looks like we used a bunch of the same sources for our initial research.

  We read silently for a few more minutes, before Hunter clears his throat. I look up to see he’s already got a fresh sheet of paper out, pen poised ready to take notes. “Ready?” he asks with a cock of his head. Still at a loss for words, I nod. We work through our ideas for the next few minutes, Hunter taking notes.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention for a moment?’ Mr. Fitzgerald clearing his throat pulls us from deep in discussion. “The bell is going to ring in a few minutes. Don’t forget I need your proposals tomorrow at the beginning of class.”

  I hold my hand out for the notes Hunter’s been taking. Hunter just gives me a look, one that sends my heart into overdrive. “I got it Lisa. You have class tonight, right? I’ll take care of it.” He takes his notes plus my notes and tucks them all carefully into his binder before I can object.

  “Um. Are you sure? I don’t mind.” I finally manage to get my voice to work.

  “Lisa.” He pauses until I look up and meet his eyes. “Let me take care of it. You have more on your plate right now. I got this.” Then he smirks and that confounded dimple catches me off guard. “Unless of course, you don’t trust me to do it?”

  “No!” I shake my head, why does he make me sound like such an idiot? “I mean, I trust you. I’m just used to doing all the work,” I finish with a shrug, looking away again, fiddling with the straps on my backpack. Surprisingly, I’m telling the truth, I do trust him to do it properly. That might be a first. Hunter’s fingers under my chin, turning me to look at his face, take me by surprise.

  “Let me take care of this, okay? I’m trying to make this easier for you.” All I can do is nod my head slowly. His words float around in my brain, even as I’m completely distracted by the gentle way his fingers hold my chin, his thumb lightly brushing the bottom of my lip. Heat flashes through me and I have to bite my lip to stop the sigh that wants to escape. What is wrong with me? How does he do this to me?
>
  The bell rings, saving me from making even more of an idiot of myself and I pull free, wrapping my hands around the straps of my backpack. “I’ll text you when I get home from dance, okay?”

  “Can’t wait, Sport.” Before he can say anything else, I speed walk out of the classroom, my lip still tingling from his thumb brushing against it, my heart pounding. Shaking my head, I push my way out of the science building and make my way to my next class. Detailed note-taking in my AP US History class should be plenty to distract me from Hunter, right?

  By the time I walk to my next class, I’ve gone from tingly and distracted to utterly annoyed at myself. When did I turn into one of those girls? The girl who abandons her goals and changes her personality when a cute boy starts paying attention to her? I’m better than this. I’ve never sat around thinking about a boy, wanting a boyfriend, pinning my sense of self on someone else’s perception of me. Gross.

  I plop into my seat, a little more violently than usual, and start pulling things out of my backpack. The sight of my rainbow of pens irritates me so much I put all but one back in my bag. I don’t need to change anything about myself because of Hunter. Straight A’s and two good friends—I was doing absolutely fine before he started paying attention to me. I do not need him distracting me, changing things about me.

  “Are you okay?” Startled, I look up to see the girl who always sits next to me in this class, Claire, looking at me curiously.

  “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

  “You seem upset.” Claire shrugs. “Is it Hunter?”

  I jerk back in my seat, almost knocking myself out of my chair. “I’m sorry, what?” I sputter. “What...um...why would you ask that?” We’re not friends, she’s just a girl who sits next to me in class. How would she know anything about Hunter? Does she know him somehow? Has he said something?