Flirting With Maybe

by Wendy Higgins

  Ryan knew this. J.J. was one of those popular guys with a big mouth who could get away with anything—a jerk one minute, then class clown, then a charmer, and back to a jerk. J.J.’d always been cool to Ryan, nicknaming him “the Kid,” but he didn’t like the idea of him dating Brooke.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, I won’t tell anyone.”

  She looked down at her fingers. “He got mad ’cause I didn’t wanna do it with him. He said I was the prudest non-virgin he’s ever met.”

  Ryan’s gut twisted in a fit of jealousy, which he knew was stupid. Brooke’s gaze dropped and her shoulders slumped, like she was ashamed.

  Whatever her past, she was amazing to him. Leave it to a dick like J.J. to make her feel bad and use her past to try and manipulate her.

  “He’s a douche,” Ryan said, knowing full well he’d never have the balls to say it to J.J.’s face. But at least it made Brooke relax a little.

  “I had a boyfriend my whole tenth-grade year,” Brooke explained. “He was kind of a troublemaker, though. He got transferred to this alternative school because he had a lot of issues. Fighting and drugs.”

  “Oh . . .” Ryan couldn’t picture her with someone like that. Apparently Brooke was one of those girls who went for assholes. Even more of a sign that he was crazy to feel this way about her.

  She seemed to read his mind, and started to explain her past actions.

  “He wasn’t always bad. When we were together, he made me laugh. I thought he’d chill out and grow up. Then I found out he was cheating. Guess I wasn’t enough for him.” She picked at a string on the bottom of her shirt, the hurt obvious in her voice.

  They were both lying on their sides now, facing each other. Ryan was surprised how comfortable he felt, given the subject matter.

  “Well then, I’m glad you’re single.” Dude, Ryan, shut up. “I mean, not because . . . I—”

  Brooke’s giggle cut him off. She reached over and put her fingers on his sleeve. His skin tingled under the cotton.

  “Yeah, there are worse things than being single.” Brooke looked at the clock and sighed. “I guess we should go.”

  Damn. She was right, but he didn’t want to go. He wanted everything outside the car to disappear. For a second, Ryan felt reckless.

  “Wanna put my seat up for me?” he asked. “Since you’re so good at it and all?”

  She laughed and gave his arm a shove. “Nice try, Ry.”

  Ryan felt a little more like himself now that he’d had the nerve to flirt, earning him another gorgeous smile.

  When he drove her home, she sat in the car for a minute, looking up at her two-story brick rambler, which put Ryan and his mom’s little town house to shame.

  “Thanks for driving me. It was nice. Maybe you could drive me home again another time?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Definitely. Anytime.”

  Brooke smoothed back some stray strands of hair. “And . . . thanks for listening to me babble.”

  She kissed her fingertips and touched them to his cheek before disappearing inside her house.

  CHAPTER TWO

  At practice that day, Ryan hit better than he ever had, baseballs banging off the gym’s high ceiling. J.J. couldn’t get a single strike off him. Steve, the third baseman, gave J.J. a hard time when they took a water break.

  “How are we gonna beat the Raiders next week if you can’t even strike out a sophomore?” Steve smacked Ryan on the butt with his glove to let him know he was joking. Steve was a senior and always keeping an eye on Ryan.

  “Shut up, Steve,” J.J. said. “At least I’m not Brooke Bennett’s little bitch like Ry-Ry McPhearson.” Some of the guys laughed, but Ryan just looked away. He knew J.J. was pissed because he wasn’t used to losing, but he wished he wouldn’t drag Brooke into it. Especially after what she’d told him.

  “Hey, McPhearson,” J.J. continued, “quit wasting your time, bro. Brooke flirts but she don’t put out. And definitely not for a tenth grader.”

  Ryan’s face heated with a sudden, intense anger.

  J.J. walked up and stood over Ryan as he sat at the bottom of the bleachers, staring at the glove in his hands. He told himself to ignore J.J.’s taunts. Everyone knew he was a smack talker. Ryan was the newbie on the team and didn’t want to do anything to get himself demoted to JV, but J.J. just wouldn’t let it go. He stood over Ryan, smirking.

  “She’s a tease, man. You wanna hang with her, you better get used to having blue balls.”

  Ryan stood up and looked the tall, lanky pitcher in the eye. His body was tight and he dropped his glove to the floor, hands balled up. J.J. grinned in amusement as the team huddled around them.

  “Damn, the Kid’s got it bad,” J.J. said.

  Their coach, who’d been watching it all play out from a chair, hollered without getting up.

  “Quit actin’ like a bunch of dang girls! Gimme ten laps around the gym. All of you! We don’t need this horse crap with our first game in a week. Go on. Get your asses out there!”

  The guys didn’t hold grudges. After their near fight in the gym, J.J. was cool with Ryan again. He joked and swatted his butt with his glove, still calling him “the Kid.” Ryan would have paid good money for a different nickname, but it stuck.

  The next week at their first game, Ryan did his best to act like the older guys. He ignored the girls yelling in the stands. Practically half the sophomore girls had come out to cheer him on. He was next up at bat. He licked his lips, spit to the side, and scuffed his cleats in the dirt next to home plate.

  “You got this, Ry,” he heard Brooke say as he readied his stance. Adrenaline poured through his system as he honed his sights on the pitcher’s body movements, his windup signaling a fastball on its way, then he crushed the ball for a double, sending two players home. Ryan was in the zone. He could no longer hear the cheers or jeers, even from Brooke.

  He wouldn’t allow himself to glance toward the dugout or stands while he was in position at right field; this set of batters was all about the pop-ups and he had to keep his eyes open. Between innings he sneaked glances at Brooke as she called out the next lineups and prepared water bottles for the team.

  “Pitcher keeps catching you with that curveball to the outside,” she said to Steve during the seventh inning stretch.

  “Yeah, I know.” He frowned, tapping his bat on his heel to knock off a clump of grass.

  “Just adjust your stance and go in for it,” she advised.

  “Yup.” And that’s exactly what Steve did at his next at bat, earning himself a single.

  After the game Ryan walked casually to the parking lot with the other guys, pretending not to notice the girls waiting for them. He kept a straight face when Brooke jogged up.

  “Hey. Good game, Ry.”

  He felt the eyes of his teammates on them. He gave a nod and put his bat bag in the trunk of his car. He was afraid if he looked at her, she’d turn him into a grinning ball of mush, and they’d all be able to see exactly how he felt.

  She leaned toward him and whispered, a trace of humor in her voice. “You’re welcome, tough guy.” Then she walked away, high-fiving the other guys as she went and spouting off ball talk that they responded to as if she was one of them. No other girl could be taken seriously like that. She even complimented J.J. on his four-inning no-hitter, earning a respectful nod.

  Ryan purposely didn’t look at Brooke the next day in the halls. Things had cooled down, but he didn’t want to give J.J. a reason to talk any more shit. He didn’t want trouble on the team, but most of all he didn’t want any drama to spill over and affect Brooke. Any time he spent with her would have to be without prying eyes on them.

  Brooke surprised Ryan after school by waiting next to his car.

  “Too cool for me now?” she asked. Her smile was small and not as confident as usual, stirring bad feelings in him. Ryan suddenly felt like a complete ass. He’d only done it for her own good. Hell, he didn’t think she’d care that much.

  N
ow he wanted to reassure her. “You know you’re the cool one, Brooke.” His cheek pulled to the side in a grin. “Wanna ride?” he asked. In the pause before she answered, he felt the familiar stretch of nervousness and excitement in his stomach when he didn’t know if she’d accept or reject.

  Brooke bit her bottom lip and nodded.

  From that day on, Ryan drove Brooke home after school. Some days he drove a couple of his sophomore friends, too, but Brooke always had shotgun. The other guys were just as enamored in her presence, hanging on her every word, smiling like a bunch of geeks and goofing off to impress her. She laughed at all the right times and actually seemed to like their attention.

  But when it was just the two of them they never went straight home. He would drive her for fries and a Coke. Or they’d go back to the state park and just talk. As the weather got warmer, they walked down by the Potomac River together, putting their feet in the water and trying to catch frogs. Ryan never knew there was so much to talk about with a girl. Some nights when they came home from practice, they’d chat online for hours about nothing and everything.

  She’d call him, crying, when her stepdad, Ron, made dick comments. She’d talk about the drama among her friends. They’d talk about baseball, her being an Orioles fan and him a Braves guy. He ragged on the O’s mercilessly, because they sucked, but she took it like a champ. And he had to admit, it was a total turn-on when she recited batting stats.

  He knew Brooke only thought of him as a friend, but that didn’t stop him from wishing and flirting every time he worked up the nerve. She always laughed it off like he was joking.

  But he wasn’t joking. And he couldn’t help but hope.

  CHAPTER THREE

  On a Friday in April, Brooke called Ryan after practice.

  “Hey! Can you come over for a minute? I want to show you something.”

  She sounded excited, piquing Ryan’s curiosity. “Yeah, sure.”

  Ryan took a speed shower and was in his car ten minutes later. He was surprised to see Brooke’s friend Jackie’s car and two others parked outside Brooke’s house. Her mom’s car wasn’t there; she must have still been at work. Brooke let him in and led him to her bedroom in the basement. He’d never been down there before. They’d hung out only in her living room and kitchen because her parents had strict rules about boys.

  Ryan felt light-headed when he entered Brooke’s room and was surrounded by the overpowering scent of her. His head swirled with vanilla cookies. He wet his lips and swallowed, leaning against the wall as casually as he could manage.

  He was the only guy down there, but Brooke’s girlfriends all greeted him and seemed to think nothing of it. Brooke’s Orioles and boy band posters were plastered around the room. Her taste in music and teams were equally atrocious. Brooke’s friends spread themselves across her bed on their stomachs, and they hushed when she went to her dresser and pulled out a piece of paper, wearing a mischievous smile.

  “I wanted all my best friends together ’cause I have something to show you. . . . I got accepted to UNC!” She thrust the acceptance letter forward and everyone screamed, jumping up, bouncing around the room, and hugging her. Ryan’s stomach dropped. He was flooded with a strange sense of fear and sadness at the thought of Brooke being gone within a matter of months. So far away.

  But when she turned to him, beaming, he forced a smile and said, “That’s awesome.” She hugged him, squeezing his neck tight, and when he wrapped his arms around her waist, he saw her friends exchange glances. They knew how he felt about her, but he didn’t care.

  Ryan caught sight of movement at the door when Brooke’s parents came down, still dressed nice from work.

  “You’re home!” Brooke bounced on her toes.

  “Hello, girls,” Brooke’s mother said. “Oh, and Ryan. What’s everyone so excited about?” Brooke handed her the letter. She read it over and then broke into a smile.

  “Brooke, this is wonderful! Congratulations!”

  Ron took the letter and read it as Brooke’s mother gave her a hug.

  “Have you heard from any of the other schools?” Ron asked.

  Brooke stiffened as she pulled from her mom’s embrace. “Um . . . I didn’t apply to any other schools,” she said in a small voice.

  The room went silent.

  “Oh, honey . . .” Her mother’s posture sank.

  “Mom, you know this is my dream,” she pleaded.

  Her mom looked away and closed her eyes, as if bracing herself.

  “There are perfectly good schools here in Virginia,” Ron said. His voice grew louder as he spoke. “Out-of-state tuition is outrageous.”

  “I’m applying for student loans,” Brooke said.

  “That’s not the point! We’ll still have to drive you, and there are other expenses to consider. You’re being selfish, Brooke, and you know what? I can’t say I’m surprised.” He covered his eyes with the palms of his hands and scrubbed his face, mumbling under his breath, “Just like her damned father.”

  “Ron!” her mother hissed as her eyes skittered across all the people in the room.

  The blood drained from Brooke’s pink cheeks, leaving her ghostly pale. It was the first time Ryan had witnessed one of Ron’s cutting comments. He’d sometimes wondered if Brooke was overreacting or being too sensitive when she talked about her stepdad. Now he knew she wasn’t.

  “I think it’s time for everyone to leave,” Ron said, then turned and stalked from the room. Brooke’s mom gave her a sad glance before following him.

  Ryan watched Brooke, expecting her to cry, but she didn’t. She stood rubbing her arms, eyes zoning out like she was in some self-preservation mode. He looked at Jackie, who stood with a hand covering her mouth.

  “Go ahead, you guys. I’ll be okay,” Brooke said. The girls left the basement quietly, squeezing Brooke’s arm as they passed, but Ryan didn’t move. He took her hand and she looked up at him with glazed eyes.

  “You did it, Brooke.”

  She watched him blankly, and he put both hands on her shoulders, squeezing until her eyes cleared and she really looked at him. Then he said the words that pained him.

  “You got in, and now you can get far away from here.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The following Monday, Brooke approached Ryan in the parking lot after school.

  Ryan wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way she’d stopped asking for rides and it was assumed he’d take her home every day.

  “Hey,” she said. “I don’t need a ride today.”

  “You going with Jackie?” he asked.

  “Um, no. Actually, Steve is taking me today.”

  It took a moment for Ryan to regain his center of gravity enough to nod. Brooke reached up and gave him a quick hug before running over to Steve’s blue truck. Steve waved at Ryan and Ryan waved back, but he suddenly felt like the kid everyone called him. Steve had three inches and fifteen pounds on Ryan, and he probably had to shave every day. When Steve’s truck engine roared to life, Ryan became very aware of his rundown toy box in comparison with the new 4x4.

  With every minute he’d spent with Brooke, he’d let his hopes rise. When he made her laugh, he sometimes forgot they weren’t equals. There were times he thought he stood a fighting chance at her heart. But as reality set in, so did a sour, churning pit inside him. How could he have ever thought Brooke would look at him and see something other than what he was? A kid in love with a girl way out of his league.

  Steve drove Brooke home every day that week. On Friday, Ryan saw Steve kiss her against his truck before opening the passenger door for her. Ryan’s breath was shallow as he climbed in his car and slammed the door. He peeled out of the parking lot, squealing the tires, a feat of which he hadn’t even known the toy box was capable. He didn’t look back, afraid the burn in his eyes would turn to actual tears, which he’d never live down.

  At home, Ryan’s mom studied his face when he walked in.

  “Bad day at school
, kiddo?”

  “Please, Mom. Don’t call me that.”

  He all but stomped to his room, but she was right behind him up the stairs, standing in the doorway while he threw himself on the bed.

  “Can I make you a snack?”

  “No,” he snapped. When she put a hand on her hip, he amended his response. “No, thank you.”

  She left him alone for an hour, then brought in a glass of water. She sat on the end of the bed, and he pulled his knees up.

  “What’s on your mind?” she asked.

  He wrestled with whether or not to say anything, but decided to open his mouth.

  “You know Brooke? The team manager?”

  His mom nodded. “She’s a sweet girl. She always comes and talks to me in the stands. And I know the two of you spend a lot of time together.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” He cleared his throat. “I guess she’s Steve’s girlfriend now.”

  His mom bit her lip and nodded. “Does she know how you feel?”

  “I think it’s pretty obvious. Everyone knows.”

  “But have you actually said the words?”

  Frustration flared in his chest. “What’s the point, Mom? She’s a senior. She treats me like I’m her little brother or something.”

  His mom readjusted her hip to scoot closer to him on the bed.

  “Ryan, listen. In a couple years when you’re both out of high school, the age difference won’t even matter, trust me.”

  “I don’t want to wait a couple years!”

  His mom spoke so calmly that it drove him mad. “Honey, I remember what it felt like to be a teenager. It felt like school was the whole world, and there was nothing beyond that, but it’s not true. You’ve got a big, incredible life waiting for you. And the right girl is out there.”

  “I don’t want any other girl.” His mom wasn’t understanding. She couldn’t fathom how Brooke had filled up his whole heart and left no room for the possibility of anyone else.