by K. R. Grace
“Sorry if I startled you.”
“No biggie.” No biggie? I couldn’t believe I’d just said that! Who said that anymore? Me. The dork.
“You wanna grab some food after this is over?”
Was he asking me out? Had I made him a target? Could I make him one even though technically I hadn’t set out to work my magic on him?
“Uh, sure.”
“Excellent! See you in the parking lot! Gotta go.” He smiled broadly before jogging back over to where Coach Marcantel had the team in a semi-circle.
I was reveling in my good fortune when I realized I’d just captured the moment on camera for Dad to experience later. I groaned. Just my freakin’ luck.
There were ways the footage could “accidentally” get destroyed, but I didn’t think any story I had would suffice. So, rather than dwell on the negatives of the situation, I pulled out my Kindle and picked up where I’d left off in Love and Lattes.
Once the game ended with Clay’s team the winners, I rushed into the girl’s bathroom to fix my hair. There wasn’t much that could be done. I didn’t have an ounce of makeup on, my hair hadn’t been washed in two days, and the sweatshirt I was wearing had several unidentifiable stains that no amount of washing had ever been able to remove. Simply put, I was a hot mess, emphasis on the mess.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I found Colt leaning against the chain-link fence a few feet away.
“Are you ready to celebrate?” he asked.
“Sure.” I nodded, suddenly feeling all kinds of awkward.
Don’t be a parrot. Don’t be a parrot, I reminded myself.
“Let me just tell Mom where I’m going really quick and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
“Oh, she knows.” He gave me a look of confusion that said he thought I’d said something odd. I tried not to develop a sudden fascination with my shoes as I wracked my brain with what I could’ve possibly said wrong.
So, rather than scoping Mom out in the congregation of soccer moms, I followed Colt into the parking lot…to a van…already brimming with sweaty, nasty, smelly, pre-pubescent boys.
To make matters worse, Coach Marcantel was sitting behind the wheel and a spindly, freckle-faced kid named Josiah was sitting shotgun. I scanned the first row of the van to see it full to capacity…second row also full. There it was. Two vacant seats in the very back next to a boy Clay called Upchuck.
Oh. Dear. God.
Colt pulled up the seatbelt that was obstructing the entrance and looked at me expectantly. I was paralyzed from the waist down. I could either get into that van and die from all the noxious fumes, or I could make a run for it. Option two was winning by a large margin, except my mind decided to play the trump card: the plan.
If I wanted a boyfriend for prom, I had to be willing to pay the price.
I put on the best smile I could, which probably only reached the level of gnashing teeth—my Chandler smile as Cam liked to call it. Only Friends fans would get the reference.
I took in my last breath of clean, unadulterated air, and climbed into the back of the hot van. Hot? Why was it hot?
“Sorry, guys. AC is out again.” Coach Marcantel was apparently a mind reader, and I loathed him for it. Actually, I was pissed at Colt for asking me to tag along. Curse my incessant need to land a boyfriend. Why? Why? Why?
“I don’t feel so good,” Upchuck groaned beside me.
“Switch. Switch,” I commanded desperately to Colt. He yelped in surprise as I hurtled my body across his lap and wiggled until he finally got the memo and scooted over. Just in time, too, because Upchuck grabbed his duffle bag and emptied the contents of his stomach into it with a stomach-churning hurl.
All the boys turned to look at him and cheered.
“That’s a new record!” one kid called out.
“Disgusting.” I gagged as I threw my hand over my nose. I was a sympathy vomiter. The urge to throw up was strong. My eyes watered as bile filled my mouth, but I forced myself to swallow and keep it down.
Fortunately, the pizza place Coach Marcantel had chosen was only a few miles away. Unfortunately, by the time we got there, I had lost all desire to ever eat again. As soon as the van stopped and the side doors opened, I sprang out of there, right over the heads of three stunned kids, and stuck the landing.
“Whoa, hungry much?” Clay snorted as he climbed out next.
I dusted myself off and tucked away an errant strand of hair before stepping to the side to wait on Colt. He was the next to last person to exit, leading Upchuck’s putrid duffel bag. I took a huge side step to avoid the nasty thing as Upchuck carried it to the trashcan in front of the pizzeria and tossed it inside.
Once inside the restaurant, I followed Colt and the boys over to a corner where several tables were pushed together. I eyed the two chairs at the end of the table, but Colt grabbed my elbow and led me to the two chairs smack dab in the middle.
Don’t be a parrot.
“Why don’t we sit at the end of the table? That way we can see everyone.” I suggested.
“Nah, I like being at the center of the action.”
Grinding my teeth, I sat down in the chair he motioned to and studied the plastic menu the waitress placed in front of me.
“I’m thinking pepperoni and sausage,” Colt said.
I glanced down the table and saw Mom sitting across from Coach Marcantel. Well, that explained the strange look Colt gave me earlier. Awesome.
Absentmindedly, I objected. “I hate sausage. I’m thinking the California veggie pizza.”
“Veggies only ruin pizza. I think we should go with pepperoni and sausage. You can pick off the sausage.”
“Or…we could each get our own pizza.” What was this guy’s deal? Yes, in the grand scheme of things, I could pick off the sausage, but why should I have to when we could each have what we wanted?
“You have to get pepperoni and sausage. Everyone does. We’ve never lost a game because of it.” The kid next to me explained.
“So, it’s a superstitious thing?” I asked Colt.
He shrugged but didn’t divulge any further. This was by far the weirdest thing I’d ever heard of. Lucky clothing was common in sports, maybe even a lucky penny or a rabbit’s foot, but pizza toppings?
“Fine.” I gave up and tossed the menu back onto the table.
Colt nodded with satisfaction before turning to talk to the boy beside him. Most of these kids I only knew by the last name written on their jersey, which meant I really had no interest in who they were, nor did I care to have a conversation with them to find out. Especially not when I’d been led to believe this was a date.
“Come on. Back me up here, Macey. Tell Murph that The Godfather is the greatest movie ever made.” Colt suddenly brought me into the conversation, breaking up my pity party.
Dilemma. The Godfather was one of my favorite movies to watch. Mostly because whenever Cam and I watched it together, he acted out the whole thing with spot-on impersonations that ended up with me in a fit of giggles on the couch. However, I couldn’t agree with Colt because then that would make me a parrot.
“Eh, it’s okay. Definitely not on the same level as Casablanca.” I shrugged, tossing out the first movie that came to mind.
He pursed his lips a moment before shrugging. “Never heard of it.” Then he resumed his debate with Murph.
I was starting to suspect my tactics weren’t working. It was almost as if he wanted me to agree with everything he said, and if I didn’t, he lost interest. This was the classic Pride & Prejudice trope authors used all the time. Strong-willed lovers who argue to the point of falling madly in love. If there was chemistry between us, I didn’t feel it.
Realizing I’d wasted my morning on a lost cause, I inhaled sharply and let it out slowly, feeling my body deflate along with it. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and saw that I had an hour before I had to be at work.
I was prepared to make my grand exit when the two boys to my right got into a shov
ing match. An elbow went wide and like dominos, one plastic red cup of orange soda crashed into one green cup of sweet tea, sending it crashing down, the liquid’s trajectory path being my lap.
The ice cold tea poured over my thighs, and I jumped up with a yelp, sending the purple cup next to me tumbling in Colt’s direction. I don’t know how it happened, but one minute it was just he and I covered in liquid, and the next we were at a water park. Drinks flew in all directions. I looked at Colt right in the middle of the fray looking like he was having the time of his life and shook my head in disgust. We were in a restaurant establishment for crying out loud! Throwing my hands up in the air, I turned and walked out, ignoring the gawking spectators who were clutching their tables as if waiting to see if they needed to spring for cover.
A loud shrilling whistle sounded behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Coach Marcantel holding on to two kids by the shirt collars. “Enough!”
Mom grabbed Clay by the arm and followed me out the door.
As far as first dates went, at least I had a story to tell my future children. A story about how everything can and will go wrong because their mother was a lost cause. Of course, in order to have children, that would infer that I was actually successful in landing a boyfriend who decided to become my husband, and right now, the odds of that ever happening were nil.
Since I’d come with the team, I had to either climb into Mom’s car and let her drive me home or walk home. Given that I’d just started a slushy Armageddon back in the pizza place, I decided to take my chances and began on foot back to the house.
“Macey! Where do you think you’re going?” Mom called out the window.
“I just need to walk! I’ll see you at home!”
Indecision flashed in her eyes. I knew what she was thinking. The pizza place was just at the entrance of our community, which was gated and could only be accessed using the card we all carried. The only danger I risked running into was the vicious Pomeranian on Magnolia Avenue.
“Okay, but go straight home! No stops or detours!” Mom didn’t budge until I gave her a thumbs up.
She and Clay disappeared down the road just as thunder cracked in the distance, directing my gaze to the sky. As I took in the dark and angry storm clouds, a big, fat drop of rain smacked me right in the center of my forehead, followed by millions of its obese brothers and sisters. Within seconds, I was drenched.
“Why?” I groaned as the rain continued to fall harder and harder.
A car rolled to a stop beside me, but I refused to look at it. What if it was some crazy pervert asking me if I wanted to play with his “puppy”?
“Are you crazy?” Cam’s familiar voice yelled at me, and I whipped my head around to see him sitting behind the wheel of the Land Rover, his face etched in concern.
“If I said I was, would you turn me in to the guys in white coats?” I asked, wiping away the water from my face the best I could.
“Nah, I’d just keep you in my basement until the episode passed.”
He lunged across the passenger seat and flicked the door open. “Get in before you attract unwanted attention.”
“In the middle of the suburbs?” I asked defiantly even as I climbed into the warm vehicle.
“Prime hunting ground for pretty girls with naive outlooks on life.”
I whacked him on the shoulder with all my strength. He jumped and clutched the injured appendage to his chest.
“Ouch, what the hell was that for?”
“For calling me naive, dork.”
“Just calling it like it is.”
“For your information, I was seconds away from blowing my rape whistle when you pulled up.”
“Good, because that would’ve scared away someone who wanted to abduct you and sell you to a sex trafficking ring,” he said dryly as he reached back behind my seat and produced his favorite black hoodie. He tossed it to me.
The smell of Cam smacked me in the face like a warm hug. That was one thing I had to give him credit for. He knew how to pick the yummy colognes. You know, the type that isn’t overpowering but makes you want to draw closer to get a better sniff? And yes, I totally sniffed the sweatshirt as I pulled it over my head.
“What were you doing on the side of the road anyway?” He asked as he put the SUV in drive.
I tugged the hoodie down and brushed the loose strands of hair out of my face before answering. “I’m afraid to tell you.”
“Come on, it’s me. We used to take baths together.”
“We were two and barely registered a difference between what was between your legs and mine!” I protested.
“Why were you walking in the rain by yourself, Mace?” He asked as he reached over and took my frigid hand into his.
I hung my head in shame. “Because I was fleeing from the disaster of the century.”
“Which was?”
“I went on what I thought was a date with Colton Price, but it turned out to be me tagging along to the team’s after-game celebration. And it might’ve ended with me causing a water war in the middle of the restaurant.”
Cam’s laughter filled the inside of the vehicle.
“Stop laughing. It’s not funny.” I yanked my hand free from Cam’s grasp so I could swat him. “It was mortifying!”
He continued to laugh until he was laughing so hard he was silently shaking, struggling for air.
“Stop it!” I tried to sound angry, but laughter surged from my chest like a cough and soon I was right there with him, laughing so hard my side hurt and my lungs burned.
Once we finally regained composure, Cam pulled to a halt in front of my house. “I love you, Mace, but you’re going about this all wrong.”
“And what should I be doing?” I asked after taking a deep, controlling breath since I was still on the verge of falling back into laughter hysterics.
“Nothing. You’re perfect as is.”
Because it was a little too mushy for us, I shoved at his arm. “You’re just saying that because you want me to write your English research paper.”
There was an awkward pause before he cleared his throat. “You know me too well.”
“Save me a backstage pass for the concert tonight. I think I have a way to be two places at once.”
“Good, you can scare off the groupies.”
“Aww, is little Cammy afraid of the big, bad groupies who ask you to sign their boobs?”
“That was one time, and I was coerced into it.”
“Mmm hmm. But really, what gives?”
He raked his fingers through his dark hair. “Just not in the mood for that crap tonight.”
My bullshit radar was going off in my head, but I knew if I pushed the issue, Cam would just clam up and shut me out. So, I shrugged. “I hear ya. Being a rock god can be hard sometimes.”
“Yeah, something like that.” He grinned.
“See you tonight, then!” I waved before letting myself out of the car. He waited until I was safely behind closed doors before driving off.
The date might’ve been a total disaster, but at least I actually made it to the date for once. Right?
Six
4. Men Love to Compete With Each Other
“Welcome to the Yogurt Shack. Where our service is cold and our ice cream is warm,” I mumbled as I spoke through the headset while refusing to take my eyes off the book in my lap.
“Well, that doesn’t sound appetizing.” A deep voice chuckled, snapping me out of my fictional world.
“Crap. Sorry. Reverse that or swap it. You know what I meant.”
Another soft laugh. “It’s all good. I’ll have two scoops of rocky road in a waffle cone and a date with the hot girl behind the counter.”
My eyebrows clashed together as I tried to detect the owner of the voice. “Um, two scoops of rocky road it is. That will be seven dollars even.”
The guy chuckled before I heard the engine of his vehicle rev and take off. I busied myself preparing his ice cream. Who the hell was thi
s guy, and did I really want to handle him alone?
Only the fear of losing my job could get me to thrust my shoulders back and chin up as I carried the frozen treat to the drive-thru window. Smirking from the comfort of his lightening blue Vespa was Bruce with a chick snuggled up behind him whom I think I had speech with sophomore year. I couldn’t really tell with her face hidden behind a helmet.
My body relaxed. “I should’ve known it was you.”
He motioned to his saddle buddy. “I brought relief. Cam’s refusing to perform unless he has his good luck charm.”
I was about to protest when my boss, Bernice, a fiery, bottled, red head in her late seventies who dressed and acted like she was twenty-five, piped in from behind me. “Can you scoop ice cream without having your nose buried in a book?”
The girl on the Vespa remained silent.
“Then you’re temporarily hired. Get out of my sight, chickadee. You’ve been scaring off the customers all night.”
“Are you sure?” I asked as I turned to look at her.
“It’s fly. I’m up with that.” Okay, so she wanted to act like a twenty-five-year-old, but she’d never quite mastered “young people flingo” as she liked to call it.
“Thanks.” I quickly removed my black apron and hung it on the hook along with the matching visor that had the shop’s logo on it before grabbing my book and backpack and hurrying out the door.
The girl who’d been with Bruce walked into the shop with a deadpan face. It was Wen Li!
“Wen, what are you doing here?”
Silence.
“Um, will you be okay manning the drive-thru?” I asked.
She turned to look at the drive-thru window and then back at me. I guessed that was a sufficient enough answer.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue, Wen.” I smiled awkwardly at her and walked out of the shop dumbfounded.
I hitched my thumb behind me in the direction of the yogurt parlor as I approached Bruce. “How did that happen?”
He tossed me a helmet before answering. “She was the best I could do last minute.”
“I just hope Bernice doesn’t try to be hip with Wen. I don’t think our friend could take it,” I huffed as I shoved the helmet on my head.