by A. R. Perry
“How do those delusions fit in your head?”
I spin her away from me before she can answer, clutching her hand so she doesn’t slam into the older couple behind her. When I yank her back, she’s panting and I can tell the height of her heels is making her nervous.
“Kick off those death traps,” I shout over the heavy beat of some song I’ve heard my mom play in her office.
Rylee nibbles on her lower lip, shooting a glance to where her mom sits watching us.
“You’ve already done the pictures and the meet and greet. Kick ‘em off!”
She bobs her head once and reaches down to undo the straps at her ankles. Two swift kicks later, her shoes are in a pile in the corner of the dance floor and she’s back to her appropriate height. Tall enough to wrap her arms around my neck, but short enough for me to prop my chin on her head. It wasn’t always this way. At one point she was taller than me, and advantage she used to beat me into submission when I didn’t want to play whatever crazy game she came up with that day.
“She’s watching, isn’t she?” Rylee asks as the song switches to a slow love ballad and I pull her flush against my chest.
Right where she should be.
“Who cares?”
“She’s gotten worse about it this last year. I think for the longest time she was waiting for this phase to end. Like one day I would wake up and no longer love sports and skateboarding.” Her voice dips enough that I have to lean down to hear her, pressing my cheek against hers. “I know I’m not the daughter she hoped for, but I’m still her kid, right?”
“You’re perfect.”
Rylee leans away, the flashy lights making her eyes sparkle. “You have to say that.”
God, I want to kiss her. Those pouty lips of hers have become an obsession, haunting my dreams and tempting me every waking minute. If for one second I thought she felt the same way, I would have jumped into the deep end years ago. Screw what her brothers would think or the inevitable ass kicking. But she doesn’t. She’s made that abundantly clear with all the lusty looks she’s thrown Jax’s way tonight not to mention every single time she sees him in the hall.
“You okay?” she asks.
Wow. Guess I spaced out there for a second. “Yeah, of course.”
“Really? Because you looked like you were seconds away from killing someone. I’ve only ever seen that look when Jace Williams took my board and tried to ride down the halls with it.” She pokes the space between my eyebrows. “And that was in the sixth grade.”
“And he deserved the split lip I gave him.”
“Violence is never the answer.”
“Says the girl who uses her fists far more often than words.”
“Hey, I learned at a young age that it was the only way to survive in a houseful of boys.”
“You just proved my point.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ announces over the speakers. “If you would please make your way off the dance floor. It’s time for the couple’s first dance.”
“Wanna sneak out of here?” I ask as Rylee stoops to pick up her shoes.
We both peek at her mom who is busy chatting up another guest.
“Definitely!”
I grab her hand again and we dash for the exit. Warm air smacks me in the face as we round the tent toward the back. For a brief second, I think we will have a chance to be alone, but then two forms come into view followed by obnoxious laughter.
Will leans against one of the tent’s support poles as Jax stands in front of him, talking animatedly.
When we get within a few feet of them and I can hear the inappropriate story Jax is telling about one of the freshman cheerleaders, I clear my throat.
Will’s eyes swing to us and narrow. “What do you want, pip-squeak?”
“I’m one year younger than you, numbnuts.”
“Rylee, is that you?” Jax interrupts the siblings. “I hardly recognized you.”
“That’s what a pound of makeup will do,” Will says, but I catch the warning tone in his voice and the way he stands up straighter.
“Says the guy who used coverup for his senior pictures.” Rylee’s voice breaks and her eyes shoot to Jax. “Hey, Jax.”
I stand by her side, taking in the fact that neither boy has acknowledged my presence. I’m used to it with Will. Ever since he became a senior, he thinks his shit don’t stink. Jax, on the other hand, can’t seem to take his eyes off Rylee which is sending fire through my veins.
“You look good.” A smile lights Rylee’s face at Jax’s words.
I told her as much earlier, but I guess my words mean nothing.
“Dude.” Will shoves Jax’s shoulder making him stumble. “That’s my sister.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…she…” Jax motions to Rylee and clears his throat. “Just used to seeing her all sweaty in gym is all. You clean up nice.”
Rylee’s cheeks flame red. “Oh. Well…thanks?” Her gaze flits to me, eyes wide.
I know that look. Best friend intervention time.
“Well, we should get back. I’m sure your mom is wondering where we ran off to.” I nudge her with my shoulder as I turn and head back toward the front of the tent.
Rylee lopes after me, holding her heels to her chest. Once we round the front, she grabs on to my sleeve and swings me around.
“Oh my God. Jax said I looked good. And he’s noticed me in gym. This is huge. Bigger than huge. What’s bigger than huge?” She palms her forehead. “This is my opening. If I play it right maybe…I don’t know. But this is it, Spencer! I can feel it.”
“Rylee—”
“I just need to focus. Come on.” She tugs me toward the entrance. “Let’s get back before my mom makes a scene and crushes any chance I have.”
I follow after her feeling the weight of our relationship pressing down on me. Any chance I had at steering us out of the friend zone was just crushed like a freaking bug on the freeway.
But I guess it doesn’t matter much. A few months from now I’ll be a fleeting memory. Might as well let those hopes be crushed now before I end up just as bitter as my father.
“So.” I relax into my chair and take a sip of my soda. Spencer and I spent all afternoon at the skate park and nothing in life has ever tasted as amazing.
“So,” Spencer parrots and shoves half of his burger into his mouth in an impressive yet disgusting display.
“A thought occurred to me when those two hot chicks rolled up and pretty much every boy within a mile radius stopped what they were doing to drool and stare. Including you.” I punctuate my words by throwing a fry at his face. He catches it in his mouth and grins.
“What’s the point you’re trying to make here?”
“My point is that maybe my mom is right.”
Spencer coughs, choking on the soda he just drank. I toss him some napkins and lean back, crossing my arms.
“What did you say? I think misheard you, ” he asks once his lungs calm down.
“Don’t make me repeat myself. Was hard enough thinking it let alone saying it out loud.”
“I’ve just…I never thought I would see the day when you admitted your mom was right about something.”
I take a bite of my burger and talk through the food. “That’s because she’s never been right before.”
He shoots me a yeah sure look but doesn’t say anything. Mom and I have a unique relationship. It’s not at all what I assume most girls have much to her dismay. Mine too, believe me. Life would be way easier if we got along for more than five seconds a day.
“So what was she right about?”
I steal a glance at the other patrons. There’s no one around I know, but can’t be too safe.
Probably should have had this conversation in the privacy of Spencer’s car.
“Never mind. It’s dumb.” I stand with my tray and take it over to the trash. Spencer follows, dumping the wrappers that came with our meal and his pickles. The weirdo has a grudge against them for some reason
.
“I gotta know what’s going on in that head of yours.” He nudges me as we walk across the parking lot to his car. “If it made you admit your mom was right about something it must be good.”
“Well…” I nibble the corner of my lip, catching on a dry piece of skin. ChapStick might be in order when we’re going to be outside in the heat all day.
“Out with it, Everett.” Spencer unlocks the car, but stops in front of the passenger door, blocking me from getting in.
Stupid jerk knows me too well. I planned on cranking up the music so I wouldn’t have to continue talking about what I now realize is the most ridiculous idea on the planet.
“What do two girls in short-shorts got to do with your mom?”
I groan and toss my head back, thankful that clouds have rolled in and blocked out the sun otherwise I might be blinded. Along with ChapStick, I need to remember to bring my sunglasses.
“We can stand here all day.”
I throw him a glare, but move to his side, leaning up against the door next to him. “I was thinking that my mom might be right about the whole tomboy thing. You saw the way Jax looked at me last night and I saw the way you and every other guy looked at those girls. Junior year is essentially over and I would like to have at least one long-term boyfriend before graduating.”
“Oh…kay…” Spencer’s eyebrows furrow as he peers down at me.
“So maybe you could help me be…I don’t know…more girly?”
Those furrowed brows shoot up widening his eyes. “How the hell am I supposed to teach you how to be more girly? Isn’t this a job for your mom?”
My fingers rub circles on my temples as a headache works its way to the surface. “Do you understand how miserable she’ll make life if I involve her? Besides, getting a guy’s perspective will be far more helpful. You date the same type of girls as Jax and you’ll be able to coach me on what not to say and how to dress.” I press my fingertips together and pout my lower lip. “Please?”
The shocked expression hasn’t left his face. In fact, it’s morphed into a shocked slash appalled look I’ve never seen before. It’s impressive.
“I’m a lost cause, huh? Forget I said anything. Was a stupid idea.” I tug on the handle, popping the door open and knocking Spencer back a few steps. “Just please don’t mention this to Ryan. He’ll never let it go and I’d like to not spend senior year in jail for twin murder.”
I hop in the car and watch as Spencer rounds to the driver’s side on wooden legs. He looks kind of pale and now I feel stupid for even bringing it up. Guess people can’t change. I’ll always be Rylee Everett. Local tomboy and lost cause.
A few miles down the road, Spencer turns down the music and sucks in a deep breath. “So let me get this straight. You want me to help you be like the type of girls Jax dates. Am I getting this right?”
“Paraphrased, but yeah.”
“And that will make you happy? Jax will make you happy?” His voice cracks a bit on Jax’s name and he quickly clears his throat.
“At the risk of sounding shallow…yes. Jax heads off to college in the fall with Will. It’s my last chance to at least try. Strike while the iron is hot and I’m fresh on his mind from the wedding.”
Spencer nods, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel as we wait at a red light.
“I get that it sounds ridiculous. But what if this is my shot? What if I’ve missed out on a ton of crap because I refused to give an inch with my mom? Seems she might have been right all along and I was too stubborn to see it. And I’ll kill you if you ever repeat any of this to my mom or brothers.”
“You don’t need to change yourself for a guy.” Spencer’s chocolate-brown eyes pin me in place. “I want that point clear. You, Rylee Everett, are perfect the way you are.”
“Bruised knees, sassy mouth, and mad boarding skills included?”
“All the above. And you don’t need to compromise who you are to get some guy who is too dumb to notice you without some frilly pink dress.” The light turns green and Spencer guns it, switching over into the right lane to get around a minivan going ten miles under the speed limit. “But I know you won’t let this drop so—”
“You’ll help me?” I jolt forward in the seat, refraining from jumping over to hug the stuffing out of him.
“I’ll try. I’m not a miracle worker after all.” His stupid smirk is rewarded with a punch to the arm. It might be my last one so I need to get it all out now.
He winces and rubs the spot where I hit him. “Lesson one, guys don’t enjoy being hit by girls especially when they can Hulk-smash the hell out of your arm. We do have fragile egos after all. Well, some of us do, and I’m assuming Jax is one of those guys.”
“Noted.” I lean back into the seat and smile out the windshield.
“You know this is a terrible idea, right?”
My smile widens. “Oh, totally. But aren’t most of our ideas?”
“So, where do we start?”
“Galleria Mall. Mom gave me money for summer clothes so I might as well dive into the deep end.”
Spencer cuts across the lanes so he can make the freeway entrance. “This is such a bad idea,” he mumbles and accelerates fast enough to throw me back into my seat.
I let out a squeak, then break into laughter. This may be a bad idea, but I have one opening and I sure as hell plan on taking it.
Can’t believe I agreed to this.
Rylee chatters nonstop at my side, listing out several stores she looked up on her phone. Six are on our hit list for the day. I’ve never been in a single one and I can’t say I’m thrilled to be doing so today.
I meant what I said in the car. This scheme is ridiculous and I want nothing to do with it when it blows up. Or succeeds. But after last night when my parents sat me down and explained their plan to put the house on the market once summer vacation starts, I knew I had to do something.
Rylee deserves a fantastic senior year. Since my parents can’t agree on anything, I might not even be at the same school to make sure that happens. So the next best option is to find someone who can. Not that I expect that douchebag Jax to be that person but maybe he’s the door to her finding new friends.
My stomach lurches at the thought and I fight back a groan. I haven’t mentioned anything to Rylee and I don’t plan on it. There’s no point ruining the few months we have left together. If I tell her, she’ll get all pouty and that’s how the rest of the year will go. Not the memory I want to bring with me to wherever the hell my mom plans on moving.
“In here.” Rylee grabs my sleeve and yanks me toward a store that has a ton of mannequins in some seriously skimpy clothes.
Rylee jumps at the first rack, thumbing through bright pink tops as I hang by the door trying not to gag on the overwhelming cloud of perfume hanging in the air.
“Can I help you find something?” A woman with fire-red hair asks.
In a deliberately slow movement, I check over my shoulder to see who the hell she is talking to. There’s nothing but empty space behind me. As I suspected, Rylee moved on to another rack, her hands loaded down with clothes I never thought she would consider wearing let alone buying.
Turning back to the sales associate, I force a smile. “I’m good. This isn’t really my style.” I thumb at a mannequin in a short green dress.
Red laughs, placing her hand on my arm. “I don’t know, green might bring out the gold in your eyes.”
“Excuse me,” Rylee snaps from behind me. “Could you help me with a dressing room?”
Red slides her eyes from me to Rylee then back, a less friendly smile curving her lips as she removes her hand. “Of course.”
Rylee wastes no time dumping the armload of clothes at the woman. I swear I’m watching a scene from a movie as she struggles to rein in all the clothing before it hits the ground all while Rylee does nothing to help. Not going to lie, I almost burst out laughing at the woman’s expense.
“Good lord, be more obvious,” Rylee mumbl
es once the woman is out of earshot. “They must not take a class on subtlety during orientation.”
“What are you mumbling about over there?” I ask and head off in the direction the women went. Rylee planned for five stores and I’d prefer to not drag this out.
“How that chick was all over your junk. I mean, hello, it’s a woman’s store and they are asking if you need help as I carry armloads of clothes around.” Her hand swings through the air and I have to dodge out of the way so she doesn’t nail me in the eye.
“First of all, she came nowhere near my junk. Pretty sure I would’ve noticed that.” I reach over and straighten a stack of shorts I knocked over during my duck and dodge maneuver. “And second, it probably confused her that I was in the store what with this being chick clothes and all.”
“You can’t be that dumb.” Rylee rounds the corner to the dressing room, shaking her head as I take a seat on an uncomfortable pink couch.
The least they could do would be to get something comfy for the poor souls dragged along to sit around and wait for people to try stuff on. By the time we get out of here, I’ll have no ass left.
I pull out my phone as Rylee shuffles around in the changing room, sounding like a raccoon in a garbage can. She normally changes at lightning speed so I’m hoping this pans out the same. Otherwise, I might have to order in pizza with the amount of clothing she grabbed.
Instagram is a bust. Nothing but food and selfies so I move on to Twitter. My thumb slides over the screen as I scroll through the feed, searching for something interesting to occupy my time.
As I scroll past something ridiculous Jax posted to seem woke or whatever, I’m struck with a sudden rush of fear. What if this pans out? What if I give Rylee the right pointers and it makes that wiener waffle stop and realize how amazing she is? Then I leave. She’s changing herself for him now. What happens if they are in a relationship? How far will she go to keep him around?
“Psst. Spencer.” The door to the changing room cracks open and Rylee pops her head out. “I need your help.”
“Your head goes into the middle hole.”
“Hardy-har.” She throws a top that flutters to the ground nowhere near me. “I’m serious. My hair got caught in the stupid zipper. Come help me get it out.”