Kissing the Player (The Dangers of Dating a Diva Book 1)

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Kissing the Player (The Dangers of Dating a Diva Book 1) Page 6

by Maggie Dallen


  I cringed at her mention of The Vampire Diaries. She was doing this to annoy me out of my funk. She knew I hated the whole tween vampire trend, and she also knew I’d lived through it all between her and my mom.

  I hated the fact that I knew who the Salvatores even were, and I was disgusted with myself for having a favorite brother.

  It was official. I needed more guy friends outside of school. I spent entirely too much time with chicks.

  “Is this because of Ashley?” she asked.

  I stared at her blankly as I tried to figure out what movie, show, or book she was referencing this time. When I came up empty, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “The girl you broke up with this past weekend?”

  I blinked. Ashley. Right. Of course. “I didn’t break up with her,” I said quickly. “We were never going out.”

  “Mm-hmm.” She was looking at her phone, only half paying attention. “Does she know that?”

  “Yes!” Crap. I shouldn’t have come over here. I hated it when Simone went all female on me. She seemed to think it was her personal duty to ensure no girl ever got hurt by me.

  She gave me no credit though. I never once lied to these girls. Unlike a certain purple-haired diva I knew, I never pretended to care, and I never made it seem like I wanted a relationship. “I told Ashley from the start that we were just friends with benefits.”

  Simone stared at me evenly. “I never once saw you hang out with Ashley as a friend.”

  “So?”

  “So what kind of friendship was that?” she demanded.

  “The kind that came with benefits!” My voice rose in frustration and I sat upright with a sigh. “I came here to get away from fighting, do we really have to do this now?”

  It was a low blow and I felt a stab of guilt as Simone leaned against the wall in chastened silence. “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” I said quickly.

  I hated when we fought. We did it all the time, of course. But it rarely went beyond bickering and teasing. Normally I didn’t let her needling get to me when she got all up on her high horse about my relationships with the girls I dated—or rather, not dated.

  “I just don’t get why you can’t date like a normal person,” she said.

  “Because I don’t want a relationship.”

  “You did when you were with—”

  “Don’t say it,” I snapped. “Do not say it.”

  “Rose,” she muttered under her breath.

  “I was going to break up with her,” I said for the millionth time. “She just beat me to it.” I jabbed a finger at her because this was a sore point and had been for nearly two years. “You know that better than anyone.”

  Her lips twitched with amusement the same way they always did when this topic came up. I was almost a hundred percent positive that she was purposefully playing dumb just to annoy me and it annoyed me even more that I rose to the bait every time she pulled this trick.

  We both knew I’d been about to break up with Rose, but Simone insisted on making it sound like I’d been crushed. Like I’d actually wanted to be her boyfriend or something.

  Please.

  Sure, we’d had a lot of fun during those two weeks, but that was because it was a limited-time thing. If we’d gone on any longer, it would have fallen apart. We both knew that which was why she’d ended it.

  I just hated the fact that she’d beaten me to it, that was all.

  I didn’t bother wasting my breath by saying all that to Simone. She knew what happened, and she knew my thoughts on it. She just insisted on making me out to be the victim of some heartbreak because it made her laugh.

  My best friend looked all sweet and good, but there was an evil side to her that few ever got to know.

  Me? I saw it on a daily basis.

  “Admit it,” she said now, her arms crossed over her chest as she faced off with me on her bed.

  “Admit what?”

  She arched a brow. “You’re brooding because of what happened with Rose today.”

  I scowled at her, my earlier anger flaring up all over again at the memory.

  Also, it was super annoying that my best friend knew me so well because I had been thinking about that.

  Thinking. Not brooding.

  I was not a freakin’ Salvatore, and I was definitely not an Edward.

  “You couldn’t get her to swoon all over you like she did for that half a minute when you two were a thing—”

  “We were never a thing,” I interrupted.

  She ignored me. “She’s batted her pretty, long eyelashes at every guy in the school since then and it drives you nuts, because you’re not the only person she’s wrapped around her finger—”

  “She didn’t have me wrapped around her finger.”

  “You thought you could play the same game and have her back like that.” She snapped her fingers. “And your fragile male ego is hurting because it wasn’t that easy.” She didn’t even try to hide her gloat. “She wasn’t that easy.”

  I glared at her because…well, crap. She wasn’t totally wrong. Not about that stuff about me watching her fawn all over other guys for the past two years. I’d written her off as soon as she’d walked away from me that day. I hadn’t given a second thought to the guys she was dating or the way she was giving them the same soft dreamy smiles she’d given me.

  Nope. She could have dated every guy in our school and I wouldn’t have cared.

  She pretty much did. I mean she skipped over the underclassmen and the losers, but any guy who didn’t have B.O. or a girlfriend had been fair game for the serial monogamist from hell.

  “Face it, Jax,” Simone said with a smirk. “You crashed and burned today. Say goodbye to that money and—”

  “You think I’m giving up?” I arched my brows in shock. “You seriously think I’d give up all that money and the chance to buy a new amp because Miss Attention Whore didn’t take the bait?” I stretched my legs out. “Think again.”

  “Take the bait,” Simone repeated with a shake of her head. “Do you even hear yourself? Who are you and what have you done with the decent gentleman I know is lurking inside there…somewhere.” She wiggled her fingers in my direction with her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Way down deep.”

  I leaned forward. “Hey, I am a decent guy. I’m a good guy. I’ve never made promises I don’t keep and I’m totally straight with the girls I’m into.”

  “Yeah,” she said in a flat voice. “You were really straightforward with Rose today.” She dropped her voice and leaned toward me with an obnoxious wink. “If Ryan gives you trouble, I can help.” She rolled her eyes. “What was that?”

  “I was being nice!” I shouted. “And what thanks did I get for offering to help her if and when Ryan turns his anger on her?” I scoffed at the memory. “She laughed at me.” I stabbed a finger into the bedspread. “Laughed at me. At me! Girls never laugh at me.”

  “I laugh at you every day,” Simone said.

  “You don’t count.” I was working myself into a righteous anger and it felt good, better than sitting here stewing—not brooding—over the way she’d openly mocked me. “Seriously, though, is that what I get for being nice?”

  “No, that’s what you get for being sexist.”

  “Sexist?” I crossed my arms again. “Girls like it when guys are protective.”

  Simone stared at me for a long moment. “Where are you getting your information these days? Please tell me you’re not still stealing your mom’s Cosmo magazines.”

  “No, I stole your copy of Twilight.”

  “You shut your hole about Twilight.” She glared at me and I glared right back. “You need to let this go,” Simone said. “You should never have gotten into it with Ryan and you definitely shouldn’t have taken him up on that stupid bet.”

  “Why not? Are you going to give me the money for an amp?”

  “This isn’t about money, it’s about respect,” she said. Her cheeks were getting all pink which meant she was honestl
y getting fired up about this.

  I smirked. “Are you going to start singing Aretha Franklin to me now?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “If you are seriously considering trying to make that girl feel something for you, just so you can win some money—”

  “To feel, she’d have to have a heart. She’d need to have emotions,” I shot back. “I think Rose Parson has made it abundantly clear over the past few years that she doesn’t have feelings.”

  “Everyone has feelings, you moron.”

  “You know what I mean,” I said.

  “I really don’t.”

  “She’s a flake. A superficial vapid airhead who only cares about being the center of attention everywhere she goes.” I met Simone’s glare evenly because I’d been thinking of little else ever since that awkward encounter earlier today, and I was convinced. “She’s heartless and shallow, and she’s the one who hurts people, not me.” I held my hands up, palms out. “I might be a player, but I’ve never claimed to be anything else. I’ve never made someone think that I cared about them or that they were something special. I’ve never made anyone fall in love with me.”

  The silence that fell when I was done seemed louder than my parents’ fighting.

  My heart was hammering too hard, and I hated the churning sensation in my gut.

  “I still don’t like it,” she said. “Even if she’s as shallow and heartless as you think, I don’t like it.” She shook her head. “I’m not going along with it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need your help.”

  As soon as I said it I realized that was…not entirely the truth. Simone, with her theater connection, was my best in to get close to Rose. “When’s your next theater meeting?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  I waited her out.

  “Thursday after school,” she said with a sigh. “Why?”

  I grinned. “You need a ride, don’t you?”

  She sighed. I had her there and she knew it. Simone hadn’t gotten her license yet, and she needed me as much as I needed her.

  If not more.

  Granted, I’d typically give her a ride just because she was my friend, but right now…

  I didn’t typically date girls. I didn’t typically have to go to extreme measures to talk to them. I typically didn’t have five hundred dollars and a new amp at stake…

  So really, nothing about my current situation was typical.

  6

  Rose

  I’d never been more eager for the first theater meeting of the year.

  Typically I sort of hated them. It was usually a mix of boring lectures by Mrs. Klein and a whole lot of bickering over which shows we’d perform and how much our budget allotted for each. Mrs. Klein tried to make everyone happy, which was a mistake.

  There was no pleasing everyone, especially not this crowd.

  “Martin is just saying that because he hates musicals,” Bianca shouted.

  Yes, shouted.

  The debate was full-on already and we’d barely begun. Everyone turned out for the first meeting, mainly because it was the best and last chance to have a say in what happened. The art kids were here to find out their schedule to work on the sets, the band geeks were huddled in the back waiting on word for when they’d be needed to support the musical.

  Or if they’d be needed, if Martin had anything to say about it. The senior actor with a sad attempt at a mustache was currently holding court at the front of the auditorium.

  Mrs. Klein had lost all control twenty minutes ago and showed no signs of reclaiming it any time soon.

  “I don’t hate musicals,” Martin said.

  This was a lie and we all knew it.

  I exchanged a look with Avery, one of the girls who was sweet as could be but never landed anything bigger than the chorus or the odd one-liner in straight dramas. She didn’t seem to care, which made her all the more likeable. Unlike the rest of us, she was just here for fun and didn’t have big dreams of shining in the spotlight.

  She arched her brows as Martin kept talking about how a musical done right wasn’t bad, but…blah blah blah. Martin was a playwright snob. He might be trying to appease the musical folks right now, but anyone who’d worked with him had heard his speeches about the artistic merit of an Andrew Lloyd Weber show.

  “What we need is to focus on the absurdists this year,” Martin said. “Which is why I am telling you that Waiting for Godot is exactly what we need.”

  I heard a groan from behind me and turned to see Simone rolling her eyes. I grinned and she looked down quickly, like she was embarrassed she’d been caught.

  The girl was quiet and seemingly sweet—which meant I had no idea what she was doing hanging around with Jax.

  I hadn’t really understood their relationship when he and I had dated and it made even less sense now. I studied her as she stared straight ahead. I hoped beyond hope that she wasn’t in love with him.

  The guy was an alphahole of the highest order. Don’t get me wrong. I’d had fun hanging out with him for a little while, but I was glad I’d ended it when I had. If I hadn’t? He would have. I could feel him pulling away with each passing second. He was a commitment-phobe, and all he wanted from a girl was someone to hook up with at the next party.

  He was exactly the kind of guy I’d made it my rule to avoid.

  Could you imagine if I’d actually gone and fallen for a guy like that?

  Goodbye dreams, hello heartbreak.

  “The budget!” Mrs. Klein’s voice was sharp with urgency. Almost panic, as she fought for the crowd’s attention. “That’s what this all comes down to. Now about that…”

  The room grew eerily quiet and even Mrs. Klein didn’t seem certain of what she was supposed to do with that level of attention once she had it. She cleared her throat. “Before we go any further, we need to discuss the annual fundraiser—”

  “I’ll do it.” My hand shot up. All eyes were on me and I smiled.

  I loved attention. I lived for it. I mean, that was why I was planning on being world-famous, after all.

  “Oh!” Mrs. Klein’s eyes widened as she patted her short gray curls. “That was…easier than I thought.”

  She’d sort of muttered the last part, and I assumed that was my cue to take over. “Okay, peeps, listen up.” I clapped my hands as I strode up toward the stage. “This year we’re not just doing cupcakes and a bake sale.”

  “We’re not?” Mrs. Klein asked.

  “No.” I planted my hands on my hips. “I have a plan. We’re going to raise enough money to fund all of our shows this year—and yes, Bianca, that includes a musical. And we’ll even have enough left over to donate to the theater department for future generations.”

  Okay, maybe generations was a bit of a stretch. But it sounded good, didn’t it?

  I heard the door in the back click open but didn’t let myself get distracted. I had a plan. I had a goal. Nothing and no one would get in my way, not even—

  Oh crap. What was he doing here?

  Jax leaned against the door in the back. If he were sporting a leather jacket and a cigarette he’d have been the spitting image of James Dean.

  As it was, he wore a dark hoodie and faded, ripped jeans and… Well, he was still the spitting image of James Dean. Lakeview High’s very own rebel without a cause.

  “How?” The question came from the direction of the band geeks in the corner and I gave my head a little shake before fixing the entire section with a beaming smile of confidence.

  “A fair.”

  “A…what?” Bianca asked.

  “A fair. You know, like a festival.”

  More blank stares. “You know, like the end of Grease?”

  “Ooh,” Bianca said. The room filled with murmurs and excitement.

  Mrs. Klein looked scared. “We’ve never done a fair before.”

  I softened my smile and aimed for reassuring. “I’ll handle everything.”

  Had I ever run a fair before? No. B
ut how hard could it be? I saw the danged things in TV shows and movies all the time. It would take recruiting a bunch of volunteers and donations, but I was nothing if not an actress. And my new role?

  Organizer extraordinaire.

  Do-gooder of the decade.

  I was going to take home the prize, and these people were going to help.

  “Well this all sounds…exciting.” Mrs. Klein still looked terrified.

  I held up the clipboard I’d brought with me today. “I’ll be looking for volunteers to help so stop by and sign up when you have a chance.”

  Silence.

  I sighed with a sort of maternal patience I’d learned from Mrs. Klein freshman year. “Unless you don’t want to have any performances this year…”

  That got people moving.

  I shouted over them as I handed over the clipboard. “What do you say we do a silent vote for which show we do first semester? Leave a slip of paper with your choice in the box I set up over there.”

  Mrs. Klein blinked slowly and I gave her a little wink. She grinned back. Anything to avoid conflict, was her motto.

  My motto? If the winning vote wasn’t what I wanted? None would be the wiser.

  The room emptied out quickly after that and I took my sweet time. My mom let me use her old car most of the time but this week it was in the shop, which meant Hannah was giving me a ride home once her soccer practice finished.

  “You need a ride?” Jax’s low voice behind me surprised me, that was all. That was the only reason I whipped around like I’d just been jolted by a live wire.

  Jeez, Rose. Get a grip.

  “Excuse me?”

  Simone hovered by the door behind him, out of earshot and looking like she would have preferred to have been anywhere but here.

  Jax gave me a lopsided smile that made me want to spin around all over again.

  This time I’d make a run for it.

  To be clear, smiles didn’t scare me. This guy didn’t scare me. It was just that a smile on this guy—

  It was like time suddenly moved backwards and I was left reeling.

  He hadn’t smiled at me like that since…

 

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