“It’s those big, gray eyes of hers.” I winked over at Tessa. “They suck you in every time.”
“Now might be a good time to remind you guys it’s just a game,” Tessa said, blinking a few times—suckering every guy at the table in before she went for the kill. “If you don’t like losing to a girl, go find another galaxy. A galaxy far, far away.”
Every guy except Josh laughed.
“Shall we play a game?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at Tessa.
“Let’s play Global Thermonuclear War,” Tessa responded right on cue with the line from one of our favorite movies, War Games.
“We don’t have that game,” Frank said, making both me and Tessa smile.
Man, I missed this. Me and Tessa together. Maybe Tessa really was busy with school. She’d sounded stressed about putting her portfolio together to apply to one of the top college advertising programs.
Tessa had mentioned more than once that Ms. Coltrain kept pushing her for more. She was crazy talented, but after years of uncertainty and upheaval during her mom’s battle with cancer, Tessa had found comfort in familiar routine. She didn’t handle change well. She hated surprises. And she was downright afraid of taking risks.
Maybe it was time to step out of my Spencer box and think about how I could help Tessa.
7
Tessa
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Spencer said on our drive to school. He reached out, turning down the radio. “Everything okay?”
“Sorry.” I sighed, leaning my head against the side window. “I’m having a crappy week.”
“How can I help?”
“You can’t, but I appreciate the thought.”
“Maybe it will help to talk it out. Is this about school?” Spencer flicked his gaze over to me before turning back to the road. “Work? A guy?”
I snorted. A guy? Ha! Who had time for dating? My love life basically could be summed up in one word: nonexistent. “School. Specifically, my art project.”
“You still haven’t come up with your ad campaign?”
“I’ve come up with at least eight. But Ms. Coltrain keeps rejecting them.” I clenched my jaw. “In the last two days, I’ve pitched more funding for the library and turning the government food pyramid upside down. Nope and nope.”
It was fair to say I was desperate.
“Hey, you’ll figure it out. Your creativity is off-the-charts, so I know you can do this.”
“Dig deeper. Think bigger. Take a risk. What does any of that even mean?” I waved my hand in the air. “I’ve presented super-creative campaign ideas using photoshop, videos, and popular social media sites. How much bigger can I get than the government’s food pyramid?”
“If you think about it, you’re picking easy topics.” Spencer shrugged.
“Easy?” I narrowed my eyes on him. “Easy how?”
“Safe. No brainers. Maybe Coltrain means you should pick an idea that isn’t a sure thing. Who doesn’t want more funding for the library or to save puppies? Those are safe. Pick something that might not work. That’s where the risk is.”
“You think?” I guessed he could be right.
“This is sort of the same point I made the other day.” Spencer lowered his sunglasses to give me an I-told-you-so look. “Don’t weigh out the pros and cons. Just jump into it and see what happens.”
“You mean like you do?”
“With big risk comes big reward.” He grinned.
“Or pain and failure, but sure. I’ll think about it.”
And I did. It was all I could think about throughout the day. It kept me majorly distracted through most of my classes. (I’d have to ask Milla Kent for her math notes.) I finally pulled out my spiral notebook to fill out an idea bubble chart while I waited for Home Economics to start.
Ideas were flowing when a commotion at the door grabbed everyone’s attention.
Some girl stood in the doorway, waving frantically at Lexie, Spencer’s sister, who was sitting next to me. “Psst. Lexie. Psst.”
I tapped Lexie on the shoulder, and she pulled out her earbuds, turning to me with a smile.
“Your friend is calling you,” I said, pointing to the door, but Lexie’s friend had already rushed into the room.
“Lex! I need your help!” The girl crouched down next to Lexie’s chair.
“Sure, Maria. Anything.”
“Awesome.” Maria reached inside her jacket and pulled out the most adorable mini Chihuahua, shoving it into Lexie’s hands.
“Wait, what? A dog?” Lexie looked down at the cuteness in her hands. “I can’t—”
“Please, please, please. My dad’s home with a migraine, and Chewy barks. A lot. And my dad threatened to take Chewy to the pound if he kept barking. So I brought him to school, but I’ve got to run track for gym. I’ll meet you out front near the bus loop after class. Thanks, Lexie! You’re the best!”
And she left.
“What am I going to do?” Lexie blinked at the dog and then at me. “Mrs. Potts will freak if she sees him. And then I’ll be sent to the principal’s office. Again.”
Again? Oh, man. “I don’t know, Lex.”
“Hey, can I hide him in your Hello Kitty purse? It’s the perfect size.”
“Sure.” I dumped the contents of my purse into my backpack and then handed it to Lexie.
She put the puppy in the purse, and lucky for us, he curled up and went to sleep. Lexie set the purse under our table just as Mrs. Potts walked into the classroom.
Everything was smooth sailing—until Mrs. Potts began to demonstrate how to make and fry meatballs. The smell must have perked Chewy right up.
Chewy barked.
“What was that?” Mrs. Potts paused with her spoon over the frying pan.
I stared at Lexie. Lexie bit her lip and stared at me. Ugh. It wasn’t fair for Lexie to get in trouble. Her friend hadn’t really given her a choice.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Lexie said.
“Me neither,” some kid at the front table agreed.
Chewy barked again.
This time Mrs. Potts ran her eyes around the room. “No one else heard that?”
“No, ma’am.” Most of the kids in class shook their heads.
Unfortunately, Chewy barked again. Maria’s family must feed him people food, dang it.
“Does someone have a dog in my classroom?” Mrs. Potts slowly placed the spoon onto the spoon rest and gave the class her full attention.
Poor Lexie. It seemed wrong that she should get in trouble for doing a good deed.
I heard Spencer’s voice in my head: Take the leap. Jump in. Yep, I had to help Lexie.
“It’s me, Mrs. Potts.” I raised my hand to get her attention, warmth heating my cheeks. “I’m sorry, but I have terrible gas today.”
The kids in class did an amazing job keeping their snickers and snorts muffled.
“Oh, my.” Her hands gripped her gingham apron. “Are you going to be okay, dear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I nodded.
Mrs. Potts proceeded with the meatball demonstration. Every time Chewy barked, I called out, “Excuse me!” It was only a little embarrassing, and we would have pulled it off too, except Chewy moved from barking to howling.
Lexie’s eyes went wide, and I did exactly what Spencer had suggested. Jumped right in again.
I clutched my belly and moaned loudly to cover Chewy’s howl. Howl. Moan. Howl. Moan.
Mrs. Potts’s face vacillated between suspicion and worry. I was afraid if this kept going, we’d be busted.
“Health room,” I moaned.
“I’ll take her!” Lexie yelled.
We gathered up the purse and our backpacks and shot out of the classroom like horses in the Kentucky Derby. We didn’t stop until we’d made it to the end of the hall and into the stairwell.
“Thank you, Tess.” She scooped Chewy from my purse and handed it back to me. “You were amazing.”
“No problem.”
“I’ve got to run and hand this cutie off, or I’ll be late for class.”
“I’ve got lunch now. I can take him to Marie,” I said, sliding my purse onto my shoulder and holding my hands out for Chewy. “You go on to class.”
“You’re the best.” She placed Chewy in my hands. “Now I have time to grab my flute from my locker. Bye!”
I lifted the dog with my palm under his butt to look into his big eyes.
“Hold tight, Chewy. You’ll be reunited with your human in a few minutes.”
He licked my nose with his little pink tongue in thanks.
“I’ve got you, buddy.” I tucked him back inside my purse and headed downstairs and out to the bus loop. A few things happened on the way to the drop zone.
Rumors about the dog incident were already spreading. How did I know? The snickers and laughs as I walked by.
The girls descended on me like I was handing out free Lulu leggings. Not that I could blame them because Chewy was adorable. A definite girl magnet.
The noise of girls oohing and awing attracted the attention of Ms. Fox, the cafeteria monitor. She left the cafeteria and gave me a detention slip for causing a disturbance.
Then she sent me to the principal’s office for having a puppy in school.
I took a quick detour outside to hand off Chewy to Maria before heading to the office where I pleaded the fifth. (I didn’t see the point in anyone else getting in trouble.) Which got me another detention.
You can guess how the rest of my afternoon went as the story made its way through the rest of the school. “Hey, Tootie!” “Want a Tums?” “How many tacos did you eat, girl?”
“Take a leap,” Spencer had said. Why had I listened to Spencer?
I walked into art class, relieved the day was finally almost over. But I froze in place two steps into the room.
“Ms. Martin, come in!” Ms. Coltrain waved me over with a wide smile. “I think we’ve found your senior project.”
“We?”
“Yes. Spencer Hale would like to hire you to publicize the lacrosse team.”
My gaze jerked to Spencer, who sat there, trying to look innocent. I knew better.
“Since I had no idea we had a lacrosse team, this seems like an excellent task. Risky, since lacrosse isn’t even very popular.”
I enjoyed watching Spencer’s smile stiffen up at that.
“Sometimes when you can’t come up with inspiration—inspiration comes to you,” Ms. Coltrain said.
“Yay.”
“I can’t wait to see what you come up with, Ms. Martin.”
“I can’t either.” Spencer grinned at me.
“Well, what do you think?” Ms. Coltrain asked.
I think I wanted to kill Spencer.
8
Spencer
“A kissing booth?” I narrowed my eyes at Tessa. “You’re kidding with this, right?”
“Nope. Spencer, if you trusted me enough to sneak behind my back to get me on your project—then trust me now.”
“Fair point.” I held my hands up next to my head in surrender. She was right about trust. Trust was a fragile thing. It was the one thing that worried me about my plan, but I was already committed. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought using sex to sell something would be beneath you.”
“Nope, not really. Everyone knows sex sells, and you’re my product. If you want to get technical, we’re selling a good deed. The money we raise from the kissing booth is going directly to the animal shelter. The girls at Sweet Mountain High will think the lacrosse players are incredibly sweet for caring, thus raising your cachet here at school. It’s a win-win.”
She had a point.
“What if I don’t want to kiss girls?” I asked.
“Then I’ll check your pulse and offer CPR if necessary.” She tipped her head. “Grab that end, will you?”
“Haha. You’re a hoot.” I grabbed the end of the booth and signaled for Rhys to grab the other end. “Where do you want it?”
“A little off-center from the trophy case. That way, students can see your trophy from last year.”
She thought of everything. Tessa had directed us all to wear our jerseys. And although the booth belonged to the school, Tessa had repainted the large rectangular sign at the top.
Cuddle a Puppy (Aww) ~ Or ~ Lock Lips with a Lax Player (Woo!)
$1 Donation Each
100 % of all Donations go to Sweet Mountain Animal Shelter.
“Seriously, Spence, we have enough volunteers—very cute volunteers—from the team, so we don’t need your lips. You can be in charge of holding Chewy.”
“Chewy?” I knew who Chewy was. I’d heard the story. Everyone had heard the story. I didn’t dare mention it or crack a smile because I knew Tessa was still getting teased about it. “What made you decide to add Chewy to the mix?”
“First, Maria owed me a favor. Second, Chewy is going to be the key to our booth’s success.”
“How’s that?”
“Chewy is an ice-breaker and a girl magnet. Watch and learn, grasshopper.” Tessa ran her gaze around, checking out her preparation. Her eyes ran over Rhys, Walker, and Mikey, the first volunteers in the booth. “Oh, I know what I forgot.”
She rooted around in her backpack before grabbing out a plastic drug store bag and tossing sample-sized mouthwashes to each of the guys.
“You really did think of everything,” I said.
“I tried to be thorough. If this campaign is successful, I get to help my best friends and ace my senior project,” she said with a shrug. “Where’s Cody?”
“Yo!” Cody came running, holding Chewy in his arms. “I took the dog to take care of his business.”
The first lunch bell rang, setting students free from classrooms like ants in an ant farm.
It turned out Tessa was exactly right. Chewy got the girls to stop and walk over, and then the lacrosse players joked and laughed, easing them over to the kissing booth. We raised serious money during the first lunch period.
Tessa had even set up a game next to the booth called Stump the Lacrosse Player. Anyone could ask a question from a stack of cards, and if the player in the hot spot—Cody, in this case—couldn’t answer the question, the player had to get down and do ten pushups. Most of the questions were basic lacrosse rules but also some questions on cooking, girls’ fashion, and pop music.
Another genius move by Tessa to get the student body a bit more familiar with both the game of lacrosse and our team. Between the kissing, the cute dog, and Cody being Cody, it was a fun time. There was a large audience gathered around Cody, laughing at his wrong answers and counting off his pushups.
I did my part, taking care of Chewy while he soaked up the adoration of all the girls while I chatted about lacrosse or just met some kids I didn’t know.
“Hello, Spencer.”
“Ashley.” I smiled at her as Chewy whined for her attention.
“That’s such a cute dog.” Ashley reached out and scratched behind his ears. “Is he yours?”
“No. Just part of our fundraising efforts.”
“It’s a great thing you guys are doing. Isn’t it crazy to think no one even knew you guys existed?” She giggled.
“Yeah, crazy.” Okay, it wasn’t that bad. A few kids at school knew and had gone to our games. I guess to a cheerleader, the sports world narrowed down to the sports they cheered at: football and basketball.
“I know now,” she said, her eyes firm on mine. “How much are you charging for a kiss?”
“Oh, no. My kisses can’t be bought.” I pointed over to my teammates. “Kisses are over there.”
“That’s okay. I’m patient. I can wait to get one the old-fashioned way.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “Sweet jersey.”
“Thanks.” They looked identical to the football jerseys, but I’d take any compliment that brought attention to our team.
“You wouldn’t want to eat lunch with me tomorrow, would you?” Ashley asked, stepping close to me,
close enough I could smell her perfume. She smelled like flowers. Real expensive flowers like my dad got for my mom every year on her birthday. Standing this close to her, I saw that even her lip gloss sparkled. Her lips tilted up in a soft, confident smile.
Why did it seem to me like she already knew my answer would be yes? Maybe because nobody ever said no to Ashley. It sure wasn’t part of my plan. Not yet.
“Yeah, that’d be great.” Did that sound too eager? Too desperate? Maybe I should have said I couldn’t make it tomorrow. Play a little hard to get, but it was too late anyway.
“Great, Spencer. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ashley reached out and squeezed my biceps again like she did the other day. She gave Chewy one more pat on his head before she walked away, her hips swaying gracefully.
“See? I told you Chewy worked magic,” Tessa said from just behind my shoulder.
“No. That was all me,” I boasted. Me, plus a new truck, plus expensive name-brand clothes, plus letting her know I was a jock, plus four months of working out, and . . . Chewy. Yeah, none of that was lost on me.
“If that’s what you need to believe.” She shrugged.
“Excuse me. Who’s responsible for this booth?”
Tessa and I both turned to find Ms. Fox, the lunch monitor, with her hands crossed over her chest and a stern look on her face.
“I am,” Tessa said. “Are we making too much noise?”
“Obviously, but I came out to check on your permission form for the booth.” She held out her hand, palm up for it. “You do have one, don’t you?”
“Of course.” Tessa called to Cody. “Hey, Cody! Ms. Fox wants to see our signed form for the booth.”
I ran my hand around the back of my neck, pretty sure this wasn’t going to end well.
“Form?” Cody scratched his head. “What form?”
“Remember when I asked you to have Mr. Gentry sign our form?”
“The vice-principal? Oh, sure. Yeah—oh. About that . . . I sort of forgot to get it signed.”
“Uh-oh,” Tessa said.
My Totally Off-Limits Best Friend: A YA Sweet Romance (Sweet Mountain High, Year 2: A Sweet YA Romance Series) Page 4