I stare at my faux stucco ceiling and pick out the designs in the bumps and swirls. There’s an eagle’s wing and a raccoon, and—when I squint a bit—a lopsided star. I stare at it, searching for answers.
I have been enamored with Ty since the first day of ninth grade, when he walked into advanced algebra and flashed that perfect smile at me on the way to his desk. Even then, he seemed so sure of himself and his place in the world, despite the fact that we were two of the only freshmen in a class made up of mostly sophomores. That kind of swagger was something I’d never had a day in my life, and I envied it. I wanted it. Not just in a boyfriend, but for myself.
And with Ty, I got it. I became a braver, stronger version of me. I’d give anything to get that back, but what if I never do? Maybe it’s time to admit that it’s over between us and, despite what he said six months ago, this is a perma-break. And, maybe, as much as it pains me to think about it, Ty and I were never meant to be. After all, Libby is close to perfect, and she says he’s not my match.
Which brings me to … Darius. I pull my pillow over my face. I’m afraid to admit it even to a lopsided star, but for some crazy, inconceivable reason, I can’t help but smile when I think of Darius Groves. My heart did an undeniable flip tonight when he appeared in front of me and called me “Bright Angel.” And when he asked me to go to the diner. And when he told me I had a sweet laugh, and when he put on “Earth Angel” and, and, and … I squeeze my pillow and slam it against the wall. “Aaaaarrrgh!”
I grab my phone. I want to text him. Or more accurately, I want to text him so he’ll text me back so I can see his name on my screen and imagine his voice in my head. I type in the first thought that comes to mind.
Alicea: Johnny Cash? That’s pretty old school.
I stare at my phone. Nothing. No text, no typing bubble, nothing. This was a bad idea. What was I thinking? He’s probably staring at his cell right now wondering why I’m stalking him. I’m losing my mind, all because of a silly rap song and some flirting. And no doubt the flirting is merely his way of getting under my skin. He’s messing with me because of our match.
I toss my phone onto my desk and head across the hall to the bathroom. A minute later, my mouth full of toothpaste, I hear my phone ding. I practically mow Andrew down in the hallway as I fly back to my room.
“What the—”
I slam my door on him, then realize I seriously need to spit out my toothpaste, so I rush back to the bathroom past a dubious Andrew, rinse, and run back to my phone.
Darius: It’s the rebel in me.
Darius: What kind of stuff do you like?
I smile and press my phone to my cheek.
Alicea: Normal stuff.
Alicea: Taylor. Rihanna. Adele.
Alicea: Guess I’m not much of a rebel.
Darius: What’s the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done?
Besides text with a boy who got expelled from his last school? I close my eyes. What the heck am I doing?
Alicea: I went vegetarian for four days a few years ago.
Darius: What happened?
Alicea. I didn’t eat meat.
Darius: Yeah, I figured that part. But why did you quit?
Alicea: Oh, hahaha. Sorry.
Alicea: Andrew brought home a meat-lovers from Italiano’s.
Darius: Ouch. That’ll stamp out the rebel in anybody.
Alicea: It was delicious. I have no regrets.
Alicea: What about you?
Darius: Nope. I’ve never gone vegetarian.
Alicea: Haha. I meant, what’s the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done?
I watch as he types and types and types, but he must go back and delete it all, because his answer is three short words.
Darius: Who, me? Nothing.
Alicea: Right.
Darius: C U 2morrow, Bright Angel.
Alicea: :P
Alicea: Good night.
I lie down, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep. Partly because I can’t wait to see Darius tomorrow. And partly because I have no idea how I should act when I do.
“If I tell you, you have to swear not to tell anyone. Not even Brie. Not yet.”
Maggs shuts her locker door and leans back on it. “Of course.”
I glance around to make sure no one is within earshot. My entire being cringes as I squeeze my eyes shut and blurt it out. “I think I like Darius Groves.”
There. I’ve said it out loud and to another person and it didn’t kill me.
I revel in a brief sense of relief, until I open my eyes and see Maggs’s incredulous expression.
“For real?” she asks.
“Crap. I know. It’s crazy, right? I mean, to go from Ty to him. What am I thinking? This is stupid on so many levels. Forget I even said anything. It’s some sort of temporary insan—”
Maggs grabs my arms. “Alicea, stop. I was surprised, that’s all. It’s not stupid or insane. You’re allowed to like whoever you want.”
I blink, and for a moment, the world stops.
I’m allowed to like whoever I want.
Maggs makes it sound so simple. And for her, I’m sure it is. For me? Not so much. Darius is outside my lines. He’s flawed and messy and makes me uncomfortable.
But maybe I’m allowed to like him anyway.
“Why can’t we tell Brie?” Maggs asks. “She’ll be psyched.”
“I know, but that’s exactly why I don’t want to say anything. I can’t handle her enthusiasm yet. I need to take this slow. We’ll tell her soon, I promise.”
Maggs smiles. “Okay. I get that.”
As we turn to walk toward our homerooms, I assume what I hope is an innocent tone. “Speaking of liking whoever we want, who are you into these days? Anyone in particular?”
She shrugs. “Not really. You know. Everyone. No one.”
“So nobody specific? Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
I sigh. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Not care about who you like and who likes you. I wish I could not care.”
“It’s not that I don’t care. I guess I just don’t … worry.”
“Of course you don’t. You’re Maggs.”
She stops walking and her eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. You’re Sugar Magnolia, that’s all. Like the song says, you’re ‘going where the wind goes.’ Sometimes I wish I could be like that.”
“It’s not always easy being me, you know.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I know what people say about me, but it’s not like I want to be that girl. Trust me, if I could be like you, I would. I’d give anything to be so sure of myself.”
Me? Sure of myself? She has to be kidding. “Maggs, I’m the least sure-of-myself person I know.”
“Well, you’re sure of who you like. Or at least, you were until now.” As the bell rings, she gives me a teasing grin and walks backward away from me. “I know who Alicea likes,” she sings.
I stick out my tongue. “Not a word. To anyone.”
During my first period class, I screw up a simple computer code, causing my team’s program to conclude that the odds of rolling five ones in a single Yahtzee roll is one-in-three, and during second period I spill water all over my physics lab table while trying to test Archimedes’s principle. By the time I get to third-period lunch, I’m such a mess I can’t eat. Next period is study hall with Darius, and I’m equal parts nervous and excited.
When fourth period finally arrives, I find him sitting alone in the same carrel where we first met to start our lit project. He glances up as I approach him, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Hey, Bright Angel. Or do you still not want me to call you that?”
I sit down next to him. “What’s in a name? That which we call an angel by any other name would be as bright.”
His smile widens, and his eyebrows dance. “I love it when you talk Elizabethan to me.”
“Do you know what this Friday is?” Darius asks me as I flip through to find my lesson.
I shake my head.
“The next girls’ home game. And I believe you have a certain promise to keep to a certain little sister who basically asks me every single day when she’s going to meet her idol.”
“I will be there,” I say. “And I will not let that certain little sister down.”
“Cool. That’ll be … I mean, she’ll be really excited.”
I nod. “Should be fun.”
“Do you have a way to get there? To the game? Because I could pick you up if you need a ride.”
I hesitate, my eyes glued to my calc problems, and Darius leans closer. “It’s not that I don’t trust you to be there, it’s just I can’t take another week of her bugging me.”
I turn and look into his eyes. Is he trying to turn this into a date? I mean, a date with his kid sister along, but still.
I don’t need a ride, but I find myself nodding and saying “sure, thanks” and typing my address into his phone.
And, just like that, I—omigosh—have an almost, sort of, pseudo date with Darius Groves and his kid sister.
At Friday afternoon’s all-school pep rally, I steer Maggs and Brie to our usual seats next to the section where the soccer team always sits. Only this time, it’s not for me, it’s for Maggs.
Brie shakes her head at me as we sit down, and I’m tempted to explain, but I keep my mouth shut. She’s having dinner tonight with some relatives and won’t be at the basketball game, so I should be able to keep the whole Darius Groves thing—whatever it is—a secret from her for at least one more weekend. Let her think I’m still chasing Ty.
“This is awesome.” Maggs is bouncing up and down in her seat, her eyes bright. She loves pep rallies. “Are we ready to get loud?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Go, Pats, go.”
“Woo. Hoo.” Brie echoes my sarcastic tone, but Maggs appears not to notice.
She holds up her fist for a bump. “We are the Patriots of Grand View High. Victory, victory is our cry!”
I laugh. “Maggs, Maggs, Maggs. If you weren’t so hippified, I swear you’d have been a cheerleader.”
“And what’s so wrong with that? For your information, I almost did try out freshman year, but then I remembered I don’t do short skirts.” She points at the squad lined up at the far end of the court. “Pompoms, on the other hand. Those are the bomb.”
As the last few members of the senior class file into the bleachers, Principal Cho taps a microphone at center court. “Welcome, Grand View students and faculty! How are you this Friday afternoon?” With the exception of the cheerleaders, a few teachers, and—of course—Maggs, the response is tepid, prompting him to repeat: “I said, how are you this Friday afternooooon?”
This time we oblige with applause and some hooting, and Cho officially kicks off the rally. He calls in the girls’ and boys’ volleyball teams and tennis teams, then the soccer teams. Ty runs in, pumping his fist in the air and shouting. I can’t help but watch him as he crosses the court. It’s a habit, as natural as breathing, and my heart twists a bit inside my chest as he stops, searches the stands, and points at Becca, awarding her with his dazzling smile before taking his seat with the team.
I catch Aiden’s attention and motion for him to sit near us. He grins and manages to squeeze past a couple of his teammates, ending up right next to Maggs.
Next is the main event—the boys’ and girls’ basketball teams. As they enter the gym, Lexi and her boyfriend—Chris Broder, the star of our boys’ team—spar off under the far basket in a mock game of one-on-one. When Chris finally grabs her and lifts her in the air for a dunk, the crowd erupts in cheers.
“They’re adorable,” Maggs shouts into my ear.
I grin and nod. Pep rallies aren’t my thing, but I have to agree with her. Chris and Lexi are total relationship goals.
As the cheerleaders take the floor and start their dance routine to “Hey, Ya,” I catch Abi’s eye. She’s stationed in front of us, and she gives me a slight nod. I take a deep breath. Cool. My plan is on.
The song ends, and Abi grabs a megaphone. “I need two volunteers,” she shouts. “Who’s willing to come down here and show their Grand View spirit?”
Maggs jumps up and down, hand raised, because of course she does. Abi grins and heads up the bleachers toward us. “Maggie Maloney,” she shouts. “Thank you.” She looks around, ignoring all the boys whose hands have suddenly shot up, and her gaze settles on Aiden. “And what about you? Want to join the fun?”
Aiden looks startled, but he nods and follows Abi and Maggs down the steps.
Abi points them to center court, then heads over to the basketball players’ section and grabs Lexi and Chris. She drags them out to join Maggs and Aiden.
“Is everyone ready for this?” she shouts.
A cheer rises up, though no one seems quite sure what’s about to happen, least of all her four victims. “We’re going to play a little game of two-on-two,” she says. “Maggie and Aiden versus Lexi and Chris.”
Maggs and Lexi laugh and give each other high-fives, while Aiden and Chris spar off with some obvious trash talking. Principal Cho tosses Chris a basketball, sending him and Lexi charging down the court. They pass the ball back and forth, weaving it in and out between their legs and behind their backs while Aiden and Maggs follow after them, laughing and occasionally swatting in the general direction of the ball. Lexi stops at the edge of the court and spins it on her finger, just out of Aiden’s reach, before tossing it to Chris for a perfect alley-oop.
Next, Aiden takes the ball out and inbounds it to Maggs, who attempts to dribble. Lexi and Chris run circles around her, pretending to try to steal the ball as she wobbles her way down the court. About halfway down, she bounces the ball to Aiden, who takes it the rest of the way toward the basket. As Maggs joins him, he tosses it back and signals for her to shoot. She shakes her head, but he insists. Maggs tosses the ball up, missing the net by a mile, but Aiden jumps up and tips it so it glances off the backboard and into the basket.
The four of them and the entire gym erupt into cheers, and Maggs launches herself into Aiden’s arms for a hug. They dance around a bit before heading back toward our spot in the bleachers.
Brie turns to me, grins, and holds her hand up for a high five. “For someone who insists she doesn’t like to get involved in boyfriend whispering, you’re pretty good at it.”
I grin. “Victory, victory is our cry.”
The front passenger-side door of Darius’s blue Camry is … not blue. It’s yellow. He apologizes as he opens it for me, explaining that he plans to get it painted to match the rest of the car as soon as he saves up enough money. I smile and assure him it’s fine, and though I can’t help but briefly compare his car with a certain tricked-out BMW coupe, it is fine.
As I settle into my seat, I turn toward his sister, who is practically bouncing up and down in the back. “You ready to meet Lexi?”
She nods, her eyes shining. “I brought a Sharpie and this article for her to sign. Does that seem stupid?” She holds up a Loudoun Times piece that ran last month about Lexi signing to play for the College of William and Mary. The school is not exactly a basketball powerhouse, but it does have a good business entrepreneurship program. Apparently Lexi decided that was more important to her than basketball.
“That doesn’t seem stupid at all,” I answer. “I bet she’ll love to sign it for you.”
“What did you think about that?” Darius asks. “William and Mary—smart decision or waste of talent?”
I shrug. “I was shocked, obviously.” Everyone was. Lexi could have gone anywhere. Even UConn, the best women’s basketball program in the country, was recruiting her. “I don’t get it. When you’re that good at something … to throw it away like that. It seems crazy.”
�
�Yeah, but look at her.” Darius points to the photo, where Lexi is smiling as though she’s won the lottery.
“I know, but don’t you think … ” I sigh, not entirely sure what to think myself. “She could be living the dream. I mean, come on. She has a nine-year-old asking for her autograph.”
“Ten,” Jaycee interjects.
“I’m sorry. Ten. Why would you turn your back on that?”
Darius pushes his bangs off his forehead, and his eyes meet mine. “Sometimes what seems right to everyone else and what’s actually right are two different things. People act like Lexi owed it to the world to play for UConn. But this is her life, her call. I think she’s brave.”
“Brave,” I repeat. From what I’d heard, her parents weren’t exactly thrilled with her decision. Neither was her coach. “That’s one word for it.”
“One thing’s for sure.” Jaycee looks back and forth at her brother and me. “She’ll start as a freshman.”
I laugh. “True that.”
We’re playing the Potomac Run Panthers, one of the worst teams in the county, so the game is a rout, with Grand View up by twenty points in the fourth quarter.
“You should have tried out for our guys’ team,” I tell Darius as the last few minutes tick away. It’s clear from his play-by-play commentary to Jaycee that he knows the sport inside and out. “I bet you would have made it. And they need all the help they can get. They haven’t been very good the past few years.”
Darius shrugs. “I don’t play sports. I watch.”
I sneak a glance at him. Why doesn’t he play? He certainly has the build of an athlete.
“He used to be a guard,” Jaycee pipes in. “He was good, too.”
Darius nudges her. “Yeah, well. ‘Used to be’ is the key phrase.”
“Why’d you quit?”
“Long story.”
“He didn’t quit, he—”
Darius nudges her again, hard. “Yo, did you see that?” He points toward the far end of the court. “Number eighteen tripped Lexi for no reason. Hey, ref!”
The Boyfriend Whisperer 2.0 Page 8