by A. R. Perry
“Why are you always strugglebussing through life?” Before getting up I glance around to make sure none of the associates are watching, lord knows Red is probably skulking around here somewhere. When I’m confident the coast is clear, I hustle into the dressing room.
Rylee pulls me inside then shuts and locks the door. The room is a freaking disaster with clothes tossed everywhere. I sidestep a bunch of hangers and move into the corner that seems to be the only clothing-free spot.
“I guess I snagged my hair in the zipper on the way up now I can’t get it down.” Rylee spins toward the mirror and scoops her free hair over one shoulder.
Sure enough, a chunk of hair got braided into the zipper. “How did you manage this?” I grab a handful of fabric above her hip and tug her toward me.
“I don’t know. Zippers should be in the front. Not stupid backward arm-breaking ones. Who designed them, contortionists?”
I splay my hands on the soft red fabric on her shoulders. This girl looks nothing like my best friend. The dress hugs her body like a second skin, making me uncomfortably aware of her curves. Curves she hides under baggy shirts most of the time. Even the wedding dress had nothing on this one.
“How’s it going back there?” she asks, fidgeting with the short hem.
The movement draws my gaze down and there goes all the air in my lungs. I’ve seen her legs before, but not like this. Most of her shorts come down to midthigh. The girl even swims in board shorts. But now her legs are on full display, the toned muscles from hours of boarding flexing as she shuffles her feet.
Our eyes catch in the mirror and I glance away afraid that my longing will bleed right out and make this situation a thousand times more uncomfortable.
“Well, you got it stuck good.” I grip the lock of hair and tug on the zipper. “How attached are you to your hair?”
“If you give me a bald spot, I will kill you.”
“I make no guarantees.” I try the zipper again, this time getting it to move down an inch. Rylee winces but says nothing. We don’t have many options here, so I hold my breath and wiggle the zipper down as I pull up on her hair.
It pops loose, taking only a few strands with it. Rylee breathes a sigh of relief as I work the thing all the way down so we don’t have another mishap. She scoops the rest of her hair to the side causing the right sleeve to slip off her shoulder.
Too much skin.
Too many bad thoughts.
I take a step backward and scrunch my eyes, fiddling with the door until my hand finds the knob. “Okay, I’ll just be—”
“Wait.” The humor in Rylee’s voice has me cracking an eye open. “Can you help with the rest? I don’t think Jax will go for a bald chick.”
My lips pull down into a grimace. I can’t handle being in such a small space with her looking all…gorgeous and half-naked.
“I don’t have cooties you know.” She picks up a skirt from the floor and holds it to her waist. “You can turn around since you seem really squeamish about my bra.”
I flinch away. And now I’m picturing her in just a bra. Awesome.
“Bra!” Rylee laughs, reading my reaction wrong. Thinking I’m squeamish about the word and not the image of her that comes with it. “How do you date again? I mean for crying out loud, I have way more clothing on than some of the girls you dated.”
“It’s not the clothes or the…” I wave a finger at her back where I can still see the strap of her polka-dot bra.
“Bra.” She laughs harder and turns to face me.
“Right. It’s not that it’s—”
“Me?” Her face falls, taking all trace of humor with it. “It’s me, isn’t it? God, I’m just fooling myself into thinking a change of wardrobe will somehow make me less repulsive to guys.”
“No. You look…” I swallow hard, struggling with the best way to phrase my next sentence so it doesn’t completely give me away. “You look great. You always look great. I’m just feeling claustrophobic. I…I need some air.” My hand swats at the handle, cracking the door open. “I’ll meet you up front.”
Rylee cocks her head to the side, staring at me as if I’ve grown three heads. “Okay. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Cool. Yeah. Buy that dress. It looks great. I already said that so… Yeah, okay.” With that, I slip out and speed-walk to the entrance, keeping my eyes down so no one tries to talk to me.
I wasn’t lying. She looked incredible in that dress. If the rest of her purchases are anywhere close, Jax will be drooling at her feet.
I palm my chest over my racing heart as I lean against the railing. Jax doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve any of the effort she’s putting into this. At most, he’ll see her as a conquest, a fleeting hookup. But I know Rylee and once she’s set her mind to something there’s no changing it.
I just hope she’ll be able to handle the fallout once I’m gone.
My slipper-clad foot taps on the carpet as I examine the clothes I purchased yesterday at the mall.
They’re cute and everything, but I’m still not sure how to play this. If I show up to school looking like a different person, it’s likely to raise more eyebrows than draw positive attention. But slow and steady puts me on a paper-thin deadline with only a couple of months left before summer break and any chance I have with Jax evaporates.
Gah. I hadn’t gotten Spencer’s approval on any of the clothes so this could be a catastrophe. He bolted out of the dressing room yesterday acting as if he was being chased by some rabid dog. He said it had something to do with the tight space but I had seen the boy wait twenty minutes in my mother’s armoire to scare Ryan.
Yeah. It wasn’t the tight space. Not with the way his eyes bulged out when he saw me in the dress. Then there was his reaction to my bare back. He couldn’t have been more disgusted. On top of everything, after we left the store he said his mom called and needed him home.
I collapse onto my bed and run a hand through my sleep-ruffled hair.
Ryan pops his head into my room. “Mom says get downstairs for breakfast.” He slips out of view only to appear again. “God, you’re a troll in the morning.”
The book I throw at him nearly meets his face, but he moves too quick, slamming the door and evading the bodily harm he deserves. Okay, so he is right. That isn’t the point. He should keep those comments to himself. I don’t go around mentioning how he snores so loud I can hear him two doors down with a sound machine on.
On second thought, I should mention it…next time one of his flings comes over.
Notice how I said fling? Yeah, he’s never had a proper girlfriend in his life. He says he gets bored easily but I’m thinking the girls spend just enough time with him to realize his personality is garbage.
Ugh. Whatever.
I grab the white off the shoulder top I bought yesterday and a pair of ripped skinny jeans I’ve had forever.
Slow and steady wins the race, right?
I run a brush through my hair, making sure all the knots are out before pulling it into a fishtail side braid. Guess I’ll have to set my alarm for earlier if I want time to style my hair in those perfect beach waves that a lot of the girls wear at school.
Ten minutes past when Mom serves breakfast, I lope down the stairs and into the kitchen. Will is already gone, meeting the football team before school for some senior breakfast. Mom stands by the coffeepot, reading the newspaper, giving me the opportunity to slip into a chair unnoticed.
“Did Mom give you the wrong laundry basket?” Ryan asks with a mouth full of oatmeal.
“Did Mom give you the wrong food? You’re looking kind of pudgy. Might want to skip the carbs.” I pull my face into a grimace as I reach for a piece of toast.
Ryan’s eyes go wide and I have to fight to keep my smile at bay. He’s on the wrestling team so weight is everything to him. It’s an easy shot I take whenever he’s annoying me. So pretty much every day.
He opens his mouth, but Mom sit down in the chair next to me and it snap
s closed.
“You look nice,” Mom says, reaching for the bowl of fruit in the middle of the table. Her eyes linger on my top where my shoulders are bare, but she says nothing more.
“Thanks.” I shovel my oatmeal into my mouth in two disgusting bites then jump up. “Gotta go.” I plant a kiss on the top of her head and bolt for the door before she can get any further into this conversation. For crying out loud, I couldn’t even sneak a top past her.
Slow and steady is the right decision after all.
Spencer is waiting across the street by his car. He’s leaning on the hood, his face turned up to soak in the sun’s rays. It’s not even summer and the tips of his hair are lightening to a dark gold. By the time we head back to school in the fall, it will be several shades lighter.
When my foot touches the sidewalk in front of his driveway his eyes pop open and find me. “Hey.” His gaze drops to my bare shoulders before flicking to my face, a slight frown pulling down his lips.
“Does this look okay?” I smooth the ruffles on my collarbones feeling more self-conscious than when my mom dresses me. At least I know someone with style had a hand in the choices.
“Looks great.” He rounds to the passenger door to open it for me. “Sure Jax will love it.”
“Do you think?” I ask once he’s in the driver’s seat. “It’s not much but I figure it’s better than the jerseys and band shirts I normally wear.”
“Like I said, he’ll love it.”
“Are you okay?” I study his face, houses blurring behind his head as he pulls out of the cul-de-sac our houses are in.
“I’m fine.” His hand tightens on the steering wheel for a brief second, flexing the leather before reaching for the volume dial.
Then we’re drowning in some heavy metal song that makes it hard to think. Forget about talking.
We spend the rest of the ride going deaf from the volume. Spencer doesn’t once try to talk, which is so far out of his normal behavior it’s scary. Once we pull into a parking spot and the music cuts off, I turn to ask him what’s going on, but he’s already out of the car and walking toward the front steps.
I grab my backpack and follow. Something is going on, but when he gets like this, there is no point in pushing. Then again, maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. It’s rare for him, but I guess everyone has those mornings.
The walk up the front steps fills my belly with butterflies. When I couldn’t sleep last night, I plotted and planned. In addition to donning a new wardrobe I decided to at least say hi to Jax. Give a little push to notice me.
I tug the strap of my bag higher, scanning the crowd for Spencer’s messy flop of hair. I spot him thanks to his height all the way at the end of the hall heading to homeroom. The butterflies turn to full-blown nausea because I’m about to do something really stupid and I don’t have my best friend as a security blanket.
You can do this.
I make my way down the crowded hall the opposite way of my class toward where I bumped into Jax one morning when Spencer took off with my board. All I have to do is a casual run-by. A friendly good morning. Nothing wrong with that. No clingy stalker vibes because he doesn’t know where my first class is. Everything will be fine.
You can do this. You can—
Jax rounds the corner and my eyes bug out of my head. He’s walking with a couple of guys from the football team and Haylee, his on-again, off-again girlfriend. Not wanting to chance them being in the on-again phase, I duck my head and pray no one notices me. Getting into a catfight over a guy is the last way I want to start a Monday morning. Or any morning.
Just pass by. Just pass by.
When they’re three steps in front of me, Jax’s gaze swings my way. His lips tip up into a smile.
I’m so busted.
“Hey, Rylee.”
I swear on everything my heart stops. Someone call an ambulance—I’m going into cardiac arrest because Jax just said hi to me in public!
My fingers wiggle in his direction totally on their own accord because my brain is throwing a party complete with heart-shaped banners with Jax’s name on them in glittery paint.
His smile widens, crinkling the skin around his eyes as he swings his attention back to his friends who are busy gawking at me.
And that’s where my party ends because as Jax rounds the corner heading for his homeroom, I catch a glimpse of the major stink-eye Haylee is throwing over her shoulder.
When I turn down the hallway they came from I lose sight of her, collapsing into the wall. So I’ve pissed off his crazy popular on-again, off-again girlfriend who is probably on-again judging from the amount of sass. And now I have to wait here until the bell rings because if they catch me going back from where I came it will look weird.
This is why I let Spencer be in charge of stuff like this.
Spencer hits the rail and grinds, flipping his board at the end just to show off.
We’ve been at the park for hours, and he’s hit some monster tricks, showing off all the skills he’s gained and how much better he’s gotten over the past year.
Problem is, he’s been ignoring me the whole time. With his headphones in, it’s as if we’re in two different words. On a normal day, we’d be goofing off and cheering each other on, but it seems as if he might have a better time if I weren’t here at all. That’s been his attitude all week, but today it’s reached a peak.
Which is weird since he offered to give me a ride. Or I guess, I was already at his car and he felt obligated. Judging from his expression when he saw me, he wanted to tell me to buzz off. Instead, he unlocked the car without a word and waited until I was seated to reverse out. Suppose I should thank him for not turning me into roadkill.
I walk over to the shade where the fence meets grass and collapse under a tree. A group of younger kids have gathered to watch Spencer do his thing. When we’re serious about boarding, we’ve drawn attention a few times. But those are rare occasions. Neither of us is looking to go pro so we do it for fun, clowning around the whole time.
Until today.
Spencer rolls to a stop and pops his skateboard into his hand as Zoe, one of Haylee’s BFFs, saunters over, her ponytail swinging in time with her hips. Spencer wipes the sweat off his forehead with the bottom hem of his shirt and graces both Zoe and me with a glimpse of his six-pack.
She sure didn’t have eyes for him when he was a gangly fifteen-year-old but now that he got all tall and ripped here she is drooling over him. Gag me.
I glare in her direction as she giggles and pushes Spencer’s shoulder. He acts as if she’s stronger than she is and stumbles back, rubbing the spot she touched. The whole act has her laughing hard enough for me to hear and from where I sit, I can see a smile lighting Spencer’s face.
So he’s not in a bad mood. He’s pissed at me for some dumb reason and is too much of a wimp to tell me. Well, whatever. He can stay and flirt. It’s not something I want to bear witness to anyway.
Irritation turns to anger, heating my belly with a fire I’ve never felt before. I’ve seen him flirt countless times so I don’t know what’s causing me to get so bent out of shape, but every time Zoe touches him I want to throw hands.
I grab my board and backpack, then stomp away, shouldering past a couple of kids who were watching Spencer’s every move until he got sucked in by boobs and a short skirt.
Spencer’s bad mood is just rubbing off on me.
But still…I have never wanted to punch someone more—not even Ryan—when Zoe put her hands Spencer.
When I reach the parking lot, I drop my board and take off, dodging a car going way too fast. The honk as a result of my middle finger in the air almost blocks out the sound of my name being called.
I stop and turn as Spencer jogs toward me. Zoe is gone, thank God, but the prickly sensation in my gut remains.
“Hey.” He stops next to me his board tucked under his arm. “Where you going?”
“Home.” I brush a wayward strand of hair out of my f
ace and match the scowl Spencer is sending my way.
“You could have grabbed me.”
“You seemed busy flirting with Little Miss Short Skirt.”
His scowl morphs into confusion. “Isn’t that the look you’re going for these days?”
I glance down at the tank top I’m wearing instead of my usual oversize T-shirt. Sure, I have it paired with long board shorts, but again, baby steps. “No. It’s not. That would be impractical. I could never skate in a skirt.”
Spencer tilts his chin down, fighting the smile bubbling under the surface. “I’d pay money to see that.”
“I’m sure you would, perv.” I bump him with my shoulder and sigh. “Are you done ignoring me now?”
“I wasn’t ignoring you.” He kicks a pebble and sends it bouncing across the lot into a ditch.
I flick the earbuds hanging from his neck. “Kinda hard to talk when you have these glued to your ears. Seriously, what’s up?”
“Nothing. Just the ‘rents…being annoying.”
“Heard that.”
His nose wrinkles and his big brown eyes find me. “Did you just say heard that?”
“Coming from someone who says lit. You don’t get to judge.”
“Well, according to Zoe, the party she’s throwing tonight is going to be lit. So it sounds like you’re outnumbered.”
My eyes narrow. “Party, huh? Did she invite you?”
He shrugs and heads off toward his car. I pop my board and keep pace with him. Now that he’s talking to me I would prefer to have a ride home. “So…did she invite you or what?”
“Yeah she did, but I’d rather stay home and get movie-picking rights since I won the cake bet.”
“Um. No. I’m still thinking you had someone on the inside. There’s no way you guessed that on your own.”
“Don’t be a sore loser.” He tugs on my ponytail before rounding the front of his car.
I prop the door open and catch his eyes over the hood. “I bet Jax will be there. At the party I mean.”