Eyes on Me

by Rachel Harris

  My shoulders hunched as I got closer. Tons of people were circling the blue, white, and black float, and I didn’t know any of them. Sure, we’d gone to the same schools for roughly twelve years, but forced birthday invites stopped in elementary school. It was a well-established fact I didn’t frequent the current party circuit. Stone’s friends were gonna take one look at me and wonder what in the heck I was doing here.

  What would he say? Would he tell them about the dare? How embarrassing would that be? But if he didn’t, how else would he explain my presence? This was a total no-win situation.

  Gah, me and my stupid dares!

  Stone was hanging beads on the giant tissue-paper goalpost, so he didn’t see me when I made it to the float. I flirted with the idea of leaving despite the dare, but then his number five jersey lifted, exposing the smooth dip of his lower back…along with the strip of golden skin above his low-hanging jeans.

  Man, what a view. I was in so far over my head.

  Curving a hand over my eyes, I called out, “You’ve convinced me!”

  Stone turned, looking confused, and I waited until he found me standing a few feet away. He grinned as I held up my hands.

  “You were right. This is what’s been missing in my life—chicken wire and tissue paper. Who needs college when I can have all this?”

  He laughed, a rich, deep rumbling sound that made my insides happy, and jumped off the truck, landing in front of me. He lifted a chin at my shirt. “Boys in Books Are Better, huh?”

  “Duh-doy,” I replied, discreetly drying my palms on my shorts. He shook his head with another laugh. “So, yeah, um, you know I was kidding about the float, right? It looks great, and there’s a huge crowd gathering out there, too.” I needlessly threw my thumb over my shoulder—as if he didn’t realize where the town was—and bounced on my toes. “I heard people saying this year will be the best parade yet.”

  Awesome. Maybe he’d like a weather report, too, while I was at it. I rocked at small talk.

  Stone went with it anyway. “Thanks. We added a few things this year,” he said, pointing to the giant tiger, goalpost, and football helmet. “Wanted to end our reign on a high note.”

  I smiled with a nod, not having much else to contribute. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. Some of his teammates—Chase, Robbie, Aidan, and Kurt—came over with bags of candy to throw at the crowd, and Stone casually put his hand on my shoulder. A swarm of butterflies dipped in my stomach as he squeezed, but I tried extremely hard not to react.

  “Guys, Lily’s gonna ride with us today,” he announced, before going around and basically introducing me, as if we hadn’t gone to school together for years. What made it sadder was the intro was probably needed. Well, with everyone but one.

  Aidan had never said if it was a stigma thing or if he was simply embarrassed, but he didn’t want his friends knowing I tutored him. I didn’t mind either way. Whenever I saw him in the halls, we’d smile and be friendly, but we generally acted like we didn’t know each other, which, honestly, wasn’t that big a stretch. We didn’t talk about our personal lives during peer tutoring. We always kept it focused on school.

  Shifting my feet, I exchanged a friendly smile with Aidan, realizing next time we met we’d actually have a shared experience to discuss, then felt my eyes widen as Chase ran right for me. He plucked me off my feet and, as I squealed, spun me in a dizzying circle before plopping me back on the ground.

  “Welcome to the party, Iron Stomach.”

  My hand flew to my thundering chest. I couldn’t believe he’d remembered, too. Or that he’d just tossed me around like a rag doll. Blushing at the old nickname—and the weight of five pairs of eyes solely fixed on my person—I shoved my glasses against my face and breathed, “Th-thanks, Chase.”

  “I thought only the team and squad were allowed on the float.”

  I turned to where Cameron was kicking her feet on the edge of the flatbed. Gnawing on the corner of her lip, she transferred her gaze between Stone and me, and I could’ve sworn I saw a hint of panic in her eyes. “I mean, that’s what Coach said, wasn’t it?”

  Like a ping-pong match, the collective group’s eyes bounced back to where I stood with Stone, and I shrank away from the weight of attention. “Oh, well, that’s okay then. No big deal, I just—”

  “It is a big deal,” Stone declared, shooting her a look before fixing his focus on me. “You’re riding with us, Lily. It’s the whole reason I invited you here. Who in the hell cares who rides on the damn float?”

  He glanced pointedly at each of his teammates, who all shook their heads and lifted their hands in the air. Then he turned his attention to the cheerleaders, most of whom widened their eyes and stepped back, while a couple glanced at Cameron.

  Ashley shrugged a shoulder. “Rules are rules.”

  A siren sounded, followed by a rush of activity. The parade was about to begin. As the other floats and groups circled up, preparing to ride, Stone’s teammates shifted on their feet, waiting for direction. He gripped the back of his neck and engaged in a standoff with my academic rival.

  With each confused stare that swung my way, I cringed back another step. I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t a cheerleader, and I certainly wasn’t on the team. I didn’t want to rock the boat. Or the float, in this case. The only one who cared if I stayed was Stone, and he was too consumed in his staring match to notice me slowly slipping into the crowd. I took a final, stealthy step backward, ready to bolt—and felt the spongy give of toes beneath my shoe, followed by a soft gasp at my shoulder.

  Crap. I was busted.

  I turned to apologize to the latest recipient of my wayward feet, and Angéla waved away the toe-crushing with only a slight wince.

  “Hey, bro, it’s no biggie.” Stepping up, she linked her arm through mine. “Lily can watch with me. Trust me, it’s more fun in the crowd anyway. Plus, we get candy.” Her eyes widened like a little kid at the word candy, and her bright smile was as potent as her brother’s.

  The muscles in Stone’s jaw clenched, and his biceps flexed as he tightened the grip on his neck and scowled at the ground. Finally, he focused his attention on me. The rest of the group quickly followed. “Are you okay with that?”

  I swallowed, then licked my lips. I couldn’t cower under the unwanted attention. I gave a small nod, and he watched me carefully before releasing his neck with an exhale.

  “Fine. But we’ll hang out after the parade is over, okay?”

  Everyone was watching us. I couldn’t say no, even as I felt my study plans slip further away. “Sounds good,” I lied, and Angéla immediately started pulling me backward. I stumbled a bit, then waved with my free hand at Chase and Aidan and the rest of the guys. “Y’all have fun out there. Uh, go Tigers!”

  Angéla snickered, and I fell in step beside her with a groan.

  “School spirit not really your thing, huh?”

  I sighed as we walked past a family eager for the parade. The parents were seated in matching black-and-yellow lawn chairs, and the kids were practically vibrating on the curb. The girl in pigtails reminded me of a young me. “What gave it away?” I asked drily.

  “Like calls to like,” she replied with a grin. “Now churros, on the other hand? That’s something I can get spirited about, and I’m pretty sure I spied a stand about a block away. You in?”

  Oh, the dilemma. Doctors’ orders said I was supposed to stay away from fried foods while my stomach healed, but I’d been crazy good for almost two whole weeks, I’d religiously taken my medicine, and I hadn’t had a churro in years. Technically, I should wait two more days before breaking my bland as hell rabbit-food diet, but after the showdown at the float, drowning my worries in sugar sounded beyond awesome.

  “I’m so very, very in.”

  Just to be safe, I’d pop a couple Prilosec when I got home.

  Cypress Lake had turned out en masse, and as many people lined the street for the parade, an equal number were strolling the cracked sidewalks, hoppi
ng in and out of stores nestled under striped awnings, and browsing the various pop-up tents. A reporter was interviewing the mayor in front of Missy’s Antiques, and as I ducked my head to pass behind them, Angéla stood up straight and waved into the camera.

  We got in line at the churro stand, and she pointed to my chest. “Love the shirt. Book boyfriends, man. Why can’t they be real, huh?” After a second, she said, “Actually, why can’t any fictional boytoys be real? It’s a conspiracy, I’m telling you. The media gets our romantic hopes up only for reality to dash them to tiny bits.”

  She heaved a dramatic sigh, her dark eyes twinkling, and the couple ahead of us moved forward. Angéla jumped to cover the distance. “Mmmm, smell that? That’s quality grease right there. My taste buds are already tingling!”

  I inhaled the naughty scent with a grin. I’d give my weight in peanut M&M’s to have a sliver of this girl’s energy. Clearly, the Torres charm extended across genders.

  While we’d had a few classes together over the years, Angéla and I didn’t really know each other. That being said, I’d always liked her, and I assumed she had a large group of friends around here waiting for her. It wasn’t fair she got stuck babysitting me.

  The line moved again, we placed our orders, and after grabbing a handful of napkins, I said, “Hey, I appreciate you rescuing me back there, but please don’t feel like you have to hang out with me. You can go find your friends if you want.” The guy behind the window held out my churro, and I took it eagerly. “I’m cool with people-watching on my own.”

  It sounded pathetic, but it was the truth. I was used to doing the solo thing, and for the most part, I didn’t mind. Taking a big bite of deliciously fried goodness, I glanced at Angéla and stilled at the contemplative expression on her face.

  “What?” I mumbled around a mouthful of dough. Classy.

  Her lips curved with a slight smile. “You’re a Beca,” she declared as if I should know what she was talking about, then turned back toward the parade route.

  Taking another bite, I furrowed my eyebrows.

  “From Pitch Perfect,” she explained, looking over at me. “Anna Kendrick’s character is Beca. That’s you. See, I’ve got a theory. All life’s answers can be found in a movie.”

  Angéla wiggled her fingers at a passing couple with a baby, then took a bite of her churro. “Beca was a loner,” she said around her own mouthful. “She didn’t think she fit in or had a place in college, until she found the Bellas.” She glanced at me again from the corner of her eyes. “Sound familiar? I mean, I get it. I’m a Beca, too.”

  My mouth fell open, thankfully after swallowing this time, and I openly gawked.

  First, the girl nailed me in two seconds flat, then she implied she was a misfit, too, when I’d seen her at school surrounded by people tons of times.

  No way. Uh-uh. I wasn’t buying it.

  She chuckled under her breath. “Don’t give me that look. I feel stuck a lot, trust me. People like to assume they know me and where I fit, and everyone thinks I should act a certain way because of who my brother is.” She ducked her chin with a sigh. “Hell, I’m waiting for them to realize I’m seventeen and not still a fragile ten-year-old kid. It’s kind of like once people see you a certain way, that’s it. You’re locked in forever.”

  The pain in her voice was unmistakable, and of course I knew what she was talking about. I’d been in that assembly along with everyone else in fifth grade when people from the hospital came to explain about leukemia and how Angéla shouldn’t be treated any differently when she returned to school. But once she did and life returned to normal, I guess I never really thought much about it. It went to show how self-centered I could be that I’d never considered how hard it must’ve been to stay on schedule with our class. I’d spent two whopping days in the hospital. I had zero room to complain.

  Further, Angéla was gorgeous and petite and popular in the sense she was well-liked by everyone, but, now that I thought about it, she didn’t exactly hang in the same circles as her brother. She didn’t join the cheer squad or the dance team, even though she was a killer dancer. No, Angéla was a floater. I’d assumed she was on top of the world based on her happy smile and last name alone, but I guess you never really knew how someone else really felt.

  I’d judged her, unfairly. That sucked.

  “Anyways,” she said, bumping me with her elbow. “For what it’s worth, I think you fit in fine. I don’t know if Ilusiòn will be your Bellas, or if you already have one, but you don’t need to throw up that tough, loner-girl exterior with me. I’m a kindred spirit.” She smiled. “Plus, you had me from the moment you slid under Cameron’s skin. That girl is all fired up about you, and I’m loving every snarling minute of it.”

  At her wide-eyed look of happiness, I grinned…a grin that broke into a laugh when she dinked her churro against mine and took a massive bite.

  Kindred spirit indeed.

  We made it back to the street where the parade was rolling amid laughter and applause. The elementary school’s float had a superhero theme, and the kiddos were dressed like tiny Avengers. The sides of the flatbed were decorated with bright, neon posters of BANG, POP, and CRASH while the kids waved from a Metropolitan cityscape. I couldn’t help grinning at the mini-Hulk jumping up and down, excitedly tossing beads at the crowd. He was the happiest little angry green man I’d ever seen.

  Up next was Cypress Junior High with their colorful Candy Land concept. A sea of gumdrops and fluffy clouds housed children dressed like princesses, kings, gingerbread, and strange woodland creatures. Their throw of choice was naturally candy, which under normal circumstances, I’d be more than happy to accept. Trying to be good, especially after my delicious churro, I dutifully handed over my loot to Angéla and watched in envy as she popped a Hershey’s Kiss in her mouth. Two more days.

  While Brighton High’s dance team strutted their stuff to our band’s rendition of “Eye of the Tiger,” Angéla wiggled her hips beside me. She bobbed her head, sending me serious side-eye to join in, and I bit my lip. The song was catchy, and this wasn’t Ilusiòn. Everyone else was already laughing and having fun. They wouldn’t care if I looked stupid, right?

  My stomach fluttered as I rocked my shoulders. Angéla grinned, silently encouraging me, and I looked at the ground, gently bringing the rock to a full-on shimmy. She let out a whoop and took my hands, spinning me in a tight circle on the crowded sidewalk, then bumped my hip with hers, making a goofy face. I laughed and bumped her back, adding a curled lip à la Elvis. Then I threw my hands in the air and bounced to the beat. No one was watching us anyway.

  Behind the dance team came a row of convertibles. Each one carried a different nominee for Homecoming queen, all decked out in sparkly dresses. Of course, they weren’t all represented in the procession, as Angéla pointed out. Apparently, Cameron and Ashley had fashioned themselves sashes to wear on the float, so no one would forget they’d been included.

  We looked at each other and rolled our eyes.

  The guys couldn’t care less about nominations. Stone and Chase were both up for king and neither wore anything over their uniforms, or they weren’t last I saw them. Going on tiptoe, I tried to catch a glimpse of their float beyond the red Mercedes.

  The parade moved forward, and my eyes fell on Stone at the center of the truck.

  It was strange. I’d always known who Stone Torres was. You couldn’t go to Brighton, or live in Cypress Lake the last few years, and not know his name. But I’d never paid attention beyond the obvious. The good looks, the popularity. The crazy stats. Watching him now, though, was like watching the eye of a hurricane. Everyone on the float seemed to move around him. They reacted to his moods. They noticed what he did, and they sparked from that.

  A soft breeze tousled my hair, and I tucked it behind my ears. The float stopped near the bleachers across from city hall, and the emcee announced, “Give it up for your State Champions, the Fighting Tigers!” The entire crowd went berserk.
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  My eyes went back to Stone. His full mouth quirked as his hand went up, waving at the adoring fans. He played the part, nodding to everyone, going through the motions—but it was as if a wall had been built around him. The QB smiling for the crowd wasn’t the same guy who danced and teased me at Ilusiòn. It wasn’t even the guy who’d rescued me on the stairs. This version was tighter at the edges. His smile didn’t crinkle his eyes, and his dimples didn’t come out to play. Watching him, I didn’t get the sense he thought he was better than anyone else. He wasn’t cocky, like I’d originally assumed him to be. It was more like he held himself back, on guard for some reason.

  It made me sad to see.

  Not to be upstaged, Chasing Trouble stuck out his butt and started shaking it for the crowd. People hooted, Chase flirted, and the little girl on her daddy’s shoulders behind me yelled, “He’s cute, Mama!”

  Laughing, I glanced back to see her parents’ reaction, and when I did, I caught Angéla wistfully gazing up at the float. Interesting. Figuring she wasn’t mooning over her brother, her obvious interest narrowed to a few hot candidates. My gaze darted back, focusing on Chase, and my eyebrows popped in surprise.

  She sighed softly, and her gaze drifted toward me. The dreamy expression fell in an instant. A light and easy smile replaced it, with only a hint of panic around the edges, and I turned back to the parade, letting my new friend have her secrets.

  “Lily!” From the float, Stone grinned at me mischievously, beckoning me closer. Wary, I shuffled forward, and he bent to riffle through the boxes at his feet. When he popped back up, his arms were dripping with beads. “Incoming!”

  I yelped as blue, white, and black trinkets fell over my head, Angéla’s head, and the young family behind us, much to the little girl’s delight, if her contagious giggles were any clue.

  When the onslaught was over, I raised my head to see Stone looking mighty pleased with himself. Holding onto the goalpost, his lips quirked in smug satisfaction. “Having fun yet?” he called out while the truck rolled down the street. I shook my head in amused exasperation.