Rebound Boyfriend

by Daphne James Huff

  We’d met at freshman tryouts for the cheerleading squad and had hit it off right away. I doubted there was someone I’d spent more time with than her over the past few years. Sleepovers every other weekend, shopping trips, secret notes passed during class. We were the picture-perfect image of best friends.

  Maybe this was just what happened to people after four years of friendship. You drifted apart. The boyfriend stealing was the only thing that didn’t make sense in that theory.

  There was a flash of silver as she turned her head to me. The second piercing she had in her cartilage glittered with a diamond stud I’d gotten her for her sixteenth birthday. I sucked in a breath. What did it mean that she was still wearing it? Did she still want to be friends? Was that even possible after what she’d done?

  “Another new coat, Samantha?” she said with a sneer. The other girls glanced over. “You and Anderson could start a charity shop with all your castoffs, the way you ditch last season’s styles before the ink’s even dry on the credit card bill.”

  I was speechless. Not because I didn’t know what to say—I had the perfect burn on the tip of my tongue—but because I didn’t know how to say it to her. A month ago, she’d have said the same thing with a laugh, and I’d have given her a playful shrug. Lane smirked, and a flush crept up my neck, most un-Sammi-like.

  I’d always had money, though. Why did Linzie suddenly hate me for it? I tried to think of anything that had changed since the fall that would make her hate me so much.

  The only big thing in my life since September had been getting together with Jeremiah after the homecoming dance. We’d talked in history class every day, but I hadn’t found the courage to start dropping hints I wanted to go with him. Any other guy, and I would have had the charm turned on to one hundred fifty percent. But Jeremiah was the only one I’d wanted for so long, I didn’t want to mess it up. Linzie had coached me through it all, suggesting things to talk to him about, and what to wear to class to get his attention. But the big ask for the homecoming dance had to come from him.

  In the end, a bunch of the cheerleaders and some guys from the basketball team had all gone in the same limo, though, making it a group thing. Jeremiah had technically gone with some random girl—I didn’t even remember her name. I saw it in his eyes that night, though, that all the before-class chatting had worked. Once he’d seen me, he’d barely even glanced at his date all night. It had been the best homecoming ever.

  Linzie had missed it all, having gone out with Anderson that night, but she’d dumped him soon after. Then there had been that whole thing with Charlie and Anderson at my Halloween party, and Linzie had gotten back together with him for a while.

  I made a face. Anderson could be decent when he wanted to be, but overall he was basically an obnoxious jerk. I hadn’t said it at the time when she’d started hooking up with him, but it had been a relief when she’d dumped him for good after Thanksgiving. A flash of hope shot through me. Maybe Jeremiah was helping her get Anderson back. Maybe it was all fake.

  The door to the boys’ locker room opened, and my heart pounded as I studied her face for her reaction to each of the boys when they exited. Anderson got zero reaction from her, while her entire face lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw Jeremiah.

  My heart sank into my stomach, but I quickly plastered on a happy smile for Ryan, who looked surprised to see me there. In fact, he almost passed me by, until I called his name.

  “Hey, Sammi baby,” he said, and I tried not to gag at the horrible nickname. “What are you doing here?”

  What was I doing there? Besides making an idiot of myself in front of Jeremiah and Linzie.

  “Walk me to my car?” I said, fluttering my eyelashes. So much for feminism. I could almost hear my mom gritting her teeth.

  Ryan grinned, and the tightness in my chest loosened a little. He didn’t have a terrible smile. It was like a puppy—excited and wound up, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

  The puppy took my hand after only a few nudges of my arm, and I peeked back at Jeremiah. He was locked in yet another epic tongue-hockey session with Linzie. I sighed and tried to ignore the lump forming in my throat.

  Now if I could just convince myself I liked the puppy, then Jeremiah and I might actually manage to be friends.

  Chapter Ten

  So…friends. What exactly did that look like?

  Apparently, it meant sitting on opposite sides of a long table in the library, staring at each other.

  “Um, I don’t think I can help you sitting all the way over there,” he said during morning break.

  I’d endured a whole ten minutes in the cold the night before, waiting to see if Linzie and Jeremiah would come out and see me with Ryan at my car. He’d gone on and on about their practice, and I’d smiled brightly while he ignored my shivers and kept his hands planted firmly in his pockets.

  I bit my lip and moved closer to Jeremiah as I tried to fight off the memory of his arms wrapped warmly around me. He sighed when I picked a seat two chairs away but he didn’t comment. It was the best I could do without making myself totally crazy.

  I could almost smell his cologne from here. The one I’d given him for his birthday, which by now should have run out. Maybe he’d bought another.

  Or Linzie had gotten him one.

  That cooled me off a little, and I was able to focus on the words coming out of his perfect mouth.

  “How do you want to split up the project?” He had out a paper and pencil, ready to go. I raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “We could do it by dates, or by themes, or alphabetically…”

  “Whatever is easiest for you,” I said. “I don’t want to drag you down.”

  “Sam, you aren’t dragging me…” He sighed again and closed his eyes. “I know whatever you can do will help the project. Why don’t we just brainstorm on our own for a few minutes and then share, okay?”

  I nodded and pulled out a notebook. I drew doodles around the names of the presidents we had to compare for the project. It was supposed to be a way to reflect on the differences and similarities throughout history. We had to look at the laws they instituted and the history of the period, thinking about how they influenced everything else. It was super complicated and boring, and I had no idea why any of it even mattered. I bullied my brain into looking over the paper, word by word, as my pencil danced across the page haphazardly.

  “What did they eat?” I said suddenly, drawing an empty circle next to one of their names. It made me think of an empty plate. My stomach growled. Another hour until lunch, and the librarian was super strict about eating in here.

  Jeremiah slid me a granola bar across the table, and I gave him a small smile. It was my favorite kind too.

  “Do you think we should put that in the report?” he said.

  My hand brushed his when I took the granola bar, and his face flushed.

  I shrugged, telling myself the flutter in my stomach was just another hunger growl. “It’s a stupid idea, never mind.”

  “No, don’t say that,” he said, and his hand reached over, hovering over mine for an instant before he drew it back. “That could be really fun. And different. We could look at more of their daily lives and how the laws impacted that.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “So, stamps and food and stuff? The tariffs and everything?”

  He nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “We could do like, a cooking show, pitting the recipes from each one against each other.” He leaned forward in his seat and scribbled down some notes. “We could get someone to record us cooking, and dress up like the presidents and everything.”

  I giggled, picturing him in a George Washington white powdered wig.

  “Are you sure that’s what Mr. Carter wants from this project?”

  Jeremiah shrugged. “Who cares? It’ll be fun.”

  I bit my lip. “I really need to pass this class, Miah,” I flushed, not meaning to use the once-familiar nickname.

  His cheeks colored as well, and
I hurried to fill the awkward silence that threatened to settle on us.

  “I don’t have the best history in this class.”

  “Har, har,” he chuckled.

  “I mean it,” I said, needing him to understand. My chest burned with the secret of why this was so important. “I can’t mess this up.”

  He looked at me, eyebrow raised. “I didn’t think your grades were all that bad last semester.”

  Beneath the table, I twisted a hair tie around my wrist. Back in December, I’d been about to tell him everything that had been happening at school, but then my dad had left, and things just went downhill from there.

  I shook my head. After what he’d done to my heart, I couldn’t really trust him anymore with my secrets.

  “Well, my grades got worse,” I said, avoiding his eyes. “So I really need to knock this one out of the park.”

  “A slam dunk?”

  I rolled my eyes. He hated using anything but basketball analogies. “Yes, fine. Can we just make sure it fits all his criteria before we go buy powdered wigs?”

  His mouth quirked up in a half smile.

  “What?”

  “Just picturing you all dressed up like you were at Halloween.”

  Warmth spread through me, and I shook my head. “That’s a little more than friends would say,” I said quietly, still avoiding his eyes. “I want to get along with you, but you need to behave.” And stop being so freaking adorable.

  He cleared his throat. “Right, well let’s get all this mapped out, and we can submit an outline to Mr. Carter. If he approves the idea, then we’ll go for a fast break.”

  I sighed at the basketball metaphor but softened it with a smile.

  “Thanks Mi—I mean, Jeremiah.” I flushed. Friends, I reminded myself.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but just then, the bell rang, and he snapped it shut.

  “See you at the game tonight,” I said, shoving my books into my bag as I stood.

  “See you, Sam—Sammi,” he said, with the slightest hesitation at using his own nickname for me.

  To hold back the tears pricking at my eyes, I tried to imagine what he must be calling Linzie these days.

  “Ugh, why is Charlie Royce coming over here?” Staci made a face, and I shushed her.

  We were at my locker about to head to the gym to get ready for the game that night. Staci had never forgiven Charlie for a certain haircutting incident back in tenth grade. Luckily, I looked better in a bob than she did, so I’d mostly gotten over it.

  “Hi, Charlie,” I said, my smile apparently a little too wide and fake, judging by Charlie’s smirk.

  “Hey,” she said, leaning against the locker next to mine. “Sorry to interrupt the super-secret cheer meeting.”

  Staci gave her major side eye and clicked her tongue.

  “What can we do for you?” I asked, ignoring Staci.

  “I, uh, need a favor,” she said, looking down at her feet.

  I inhaled slowly, trying not to lose my patience. I had basically made sure she and Jackson had gotten together in the fall. That, plus the hair thing, made it more likely she owed me a favor.

  “Yes?” I said, drawing out the word and keeping a slight frosty edge to my voice.

  “Could we have the midseason party at your house again this year?”

  I blinked. That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. Midseason was not really an official thing, but I remembered wanting to have a party in January last year, and it had sounded like a good idea at the time. Apparently that made it a tradition now.

  “Oh, uh, maybe?” I furrowed my brow while I considered possible dates. My mom didn’t go out of town as much now she had no one to go with. But that wasn’t exactly common knowledge. The last party I’d thrown in early December had been pretty epic, and it would seem weird if I didn’t have one soon. A slight jolt of panic ran through me as I wondered if anyone else had noticed my lack of parties.

  Charlie grinned, despite my noncommittal response. “Great! It’s the only place big enough for the girls’ and boys’ teams…and Pinebrook.”

  I shook my head. “Not everyone from Pinebrook, please. I don’t want any more fights in my yard.”

  Charlie blushed. It hadn’t been entirely her fault that my Halloween party had gone awry. Mostly it had been Anderson at his most moronic. It was the one point Jeremiah and I had always disagreed on. He’d stuck by his teammate, but I had been firmly on Team Charlie—behind the scenes at least.

  I did have a reputation to maintain. And the chick had cut off our hair freshman year.

  “What about Jackson?” Charlie asked with a side glance at Staci, who was tapping away on her phone, pretending not to care but listening intently.

  I rolled my eyes. “Duh. He’s family. But not his whole team. Our guys are in such pissy moods for playing so badly this season. I don’t need them trashing my house in a fit of rage.”

  Charlie grinned. “Thanks, Sammi, I owe you one.” She turned and hurried off.

  “You owe me two!” I called after her. Without me, my cousin would still be swooning like a lovesick puppy over that annoying jock.

  I sighed and turned to see Staci giving me an odd look.

  “What?” I rubbed my face. “Is my mascara running or something?”

  She shook her head. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be? I do have the best parties.”

  I closed my locker, and we made our way to the changing rooms.

  “Yeah, well, that was before…” Staci bit her lip. She knew better than anyone what life was like at home right now. But we hadn’t actually talked about it since the week my dad left. “How are you going to get your mom out of the house?”

  “I’ll think of something,” I said, my brain going into overdrive. After a few minutes it finally landed on something and a smile spread across my lips. “I think Jackson owes me a favor too.”

  I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text before Staci and I headed into the changing room.

  Jackson, if you want this party as an excuse for a love fest with Charlie to happen, you’re gonna need to help me out.

  His reply was instantaneous.

  Anything.

  I shook my head. Boys could be so single-minded sometimes.

  Get your parents to invite my mom somewhere overnight.

  Uh, what?

  Well, how else do you think I can have a party? It’s not like she goes anywhere anymore.

  Give me a few days. I’ll think of something.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d thanked my lucky stars my cousin and his family lived on the other side of town and they all went to Pinebrook. The circle of people who knew about my parents was very small, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t want to be poor Sammi, the girl whose parents had split up at Christmas. Pity was the last thing I wanted to see in people’s eyes.

  I was Samantha Parsons, alpha female, after all.

  My phone stayed safely in my bag during the game (which we lost—so no Pinebrook guys for sure, I’d remind Jackson) but at least I was too distracted by the thought of the upcoming party to pay much attention to Jeremiah or Linzie. I focused on cheering, and Staci at least seemed pleased that I was back to something resembling normal behavior.

  My obsessive checking of my phone over the next few days, however, was slightly less than normal. The party had to happen, I’d decided. It would fix so many things—Ryan and I could be seen as a couple, any lingering rumors about me being too depressed about Jeremiah to have a party would be quashed, and I’d be Sammi again, the most popular girl at school.

  It was a long two days to wait, but in the end, my cousin came through. It was almost my aunt’s birthday, so Jackson found a U2 concert in Boulder and bought tickets for her and my mom. He suggested oh-so casually that it would be fun for them to go to Boulder overnight to make it a real party. My uncle got on board, too, and invited one of his friends. I tried not to think too hard abo
ut our parents getting wild and crazy in the city, but more likely than not, they’d all leave the concert at ten and go back to the hotel.

  Spread the word, I sent the message to the cheerleading squad as soon as I got confirmation from my mom she was going. Party at my house, Saturday.

  Just for good measure, I sent it to Veronica, too. This way, everyone who needed to know about it would.

  It would be the perfect way for everyone to see I was over Jeremiah, in the most public way possible.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” my mom asked for the hundredth time.

  I sat on the bed watching her pack a small weekend bag. It was two p.m. on Saturday, and we’d already spent the morning shopping for an outfit for her to wear that night to the concert. I was jittery with nerves, but not about the party. About what I would have to do. Ryan and I still hadn’t kissed, and tonight was the night.

  “Yes, Mom, I’ll be fine. Staci’s coming over in a little, and we’ll hang out.”

  This was not, technically, a lie. It was just only partially the truth.

  Staci was arriving the second my mom left to start getting things ready. And we would hang out, just with about one hundred other people. The standard party prep included hiding all valuable objects and covering most of the furniture and shoving it against the walls so we had space to dance. I did have one of the biggest houses in town, perfect for parties. My brother and sister had never been the partying types, so my parents never suspected that was what I got up to when they were away.

  My mom gave me one last lingering look and a huge hug and then she finally, finally left. I waited until her car was around the corner before sending the text to Staci.

  Six hours later, the house was prepared, and I was dressed and made up to my typical party perfection. My brown curls were soft and wavy, my dress short and low, and my lips a perfectly-kissable rosy red. Ryan will be glued to me all night, I thought with satisfaction as I checked myself a final time in the mirror by the door. The first kids had just started showing up, bringing the music and drinks and food.