“No way,” Sara said. “You’re hot.”
I felt my cheeks heat up like they always did when she started talking like that. “Shut up.”
Sara leaned on her elbow, twisting around to look at me. “Seriously, do you like him or not? I mean, he seems to think you’re playing hard to get.”
I rolled my eyes and took a bite of my hot dog. Some questions simply didn’t deserve an answer.
Sara bit her lower lip and looked at Beth. I eyed them, realizing they were hatching some plan. I swallowed too soon, choked, and started coughing.
“Smooth move, Trisha,” Kirk hollered from down below. “You want me to give you some lessons on how to eat?”
I quickly wiped my mouth as Sara ran her fingers through her hair. “Is my makeup okay?” she whispered.
“Perfect,” Beth said. “Mine?”
Sara peered at her as Kirk and Ross climbed up the bleachers toward us, being louder than they needed to be. “Your eyeliner is smeared,” Sara said.
Beth shrieked and dove for a compact while I spread my coat out next to me so there was no room for Kirk to sit.
“Hey, Trisha.” Kirk was wearing jeans and a brown leather jacket that was actually pretty sweet. He swung his leg over the bleacher in front of me and straddled it like some cowboy wannabe sitting on his metal horse. “Missed you last night at Pop’s.”
“Yeah, well, sorry I missed out. I heard you were a dead ringer for Britney.” I popped the rest of the dog in my mouth and gave him a ketchup-y smirk. “I practiced instead. You know, that thing where you run around and kick soccer balls? Much more fun.”
Graham and I had practiced after school today as well, and it had been awesome. A great workout and nothing else. None of this stupidness. I seriously doubted Graham had even noticed I was a girl, and that was fine with me.
Kirk gave me an obvious once-over. “Well, you might have been sweaty yesterday, but you clean up good.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. Didn’t he get that he had a much better chance with me if he appreciated my soccer talents and not my hair? Not that I cared what he thought of me, or especially how I looked.
“So, Kirk, when are you going to do a karaoke duet with me?” Sara tapped his leg with her toe. “You’ve got some serious dance moves.”
He grinned and leaned toward her. “Anytime, babe. I think we’d be a perfect match.” He slanted a calculating leer at me, like he was hoping I’d be jealous.
As if. If Sara really wanted him, and I couldn’t imagine why she did, she could have him.
Ross was standing behind Kirk, looking awkward, so I took pity and tapped the seat next to Kirk with my foot. “You’re blocking my view. Sit.”
“Right.” Ross shot a glance at Beth, who was pretending to watch the game, then sat in front of her, imitating Kirk’s sideways stance so he could talk to us. “So, um, Sara, you any good at karaoke?”
Beth’s mouth tightened, and Sara elbowed her. “Beth’s the good singer. You should hear her sing.”
“Really?” He looked at Beth, and she took her eyes off the game long enough to look right at him.
She immediately flushed red and bent down to tie a shoe that had no laces.
I sighed and turned back to the game. Sara was nearly hanging over my lap in her attempt to flirt with Kirk, and Beth had apparently lost her ability to speak.
Whatever.
I totally should have stayed home. Watched some Major League Soccer on television or something.
I averted my gaze from them, scanning the bleachers for someone to go sit with. Anyone.
Then my heart jumped.
Graham was sitting in the next section, a few rows in front of us. It looked like there was a group of guys and girls with him, but he was sitting one row behind them, by himself. He was stretched out, his feet up on the bench in front of him between two girls, and he was leaning back, propped up with his elbows on the bench behind him.
He seemed to be ignoring everyone around him, focused intently on the game.
His jeans were faded, his sneakers were hashed, and he was wearing a Red Sox cap backward and a red sweatshirt. It was the first time I’d seen him in anything but shorts and cleats.
As I watched, he turned his head and looked right at me.
I was so surprised that I forgot to turn away and pretend I hadn’t been staring.
Then he grinned and gave me a nod.
Relief rushed through me and I waved back.
“Who’s that?” Beth asked, sitting up to stare at Graham. “Who are you waving at?”
Kirk twisted around to see who I’d waved at. “That guy’s a sophomore. How do you know him?”
Sara shot me a weird look. “Have you been holding out on us?”
I jerked my gaze off Graham and fixed the cuff on my jeans. “His name’s Graham. I practiced with him. It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Sara’s eyes were wide with astonishment. “He’s hot.”
“Way hot,” Beth agreed. “You really practiced with him? Alone? He’s gorgeous.”
Gorgeous? I took another look at Graham, who was watching the game again. Really? “He sweats a lot,” I admitted. “That’s cool, I guess.”
“He sweats? That’s all you can say?” Sara whistled. “Are you blind or something? He’s a total hottie!” Then she saw Kirk frowning at us, and she immediately blushed. “Not that he’s my type, though. I mean, dark hair isn’t my thing. I like blond.”
No need to point out that Kirk had blond hair. Even he couldn’t have been stupid enough to miss that one.
But he ignored her, taking a long look at me, then inspecting Graham, then looking back at me again, his face tight. “You dating him, Trisha?”
“No! Relax, you guys. He plays soccer. So do I. That’s all it is. It is possible to just be friends with a guy, you know?”
Sara raised her brows, and Beth snorted her disbelief, but Kirk grinned and relaxed.
Then Sara scrambled over me and plunked herself down next to Kirk. She ran her finger along the sleeve of his leather jacket. “This leather is so soft. Where’d you get the jacket? I love it.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing, when Beth shot me a knowing smile. I loved Sara, but she was a total maniac around guys. And this was Kirk. So not worth her time.
But Kirk didn’t buy into her thing. Instead, he looked up at me. “You going to Pop’s after the game?”
“No. I’m going over to my dad’s.” Well, I was supposed to spend every Friday night at my dad’s, but I hadn’t heard from him this week, even after I’d left him the message about varsity. I had a feeling I was going to be stood up again. He’d been busy lately. Really busy. Maybe I should go to Pop’s. Might be more fun than sitting home being ditched again, and having my mom make chocolate chip cookies…again.
Kirk rested his elbow over my knees. “So, how about tomorrow, then? Want to hit a movie?”
Sara made a noise of distress and I felt bad. I knew what she was feeling because that’s how I felt about her and soccer: We both had what the other wanted. Maybe if I helped her with Kirk, she’d cut me some slack with practicing. So I leaned down and looked right at Kirk. “I’m not playing hard to get, Kirk. I’m just not interested in dating you.”
Sara froze, Beth spun around to gape at me, and even Ross looked interested.
Kirk stared at me for a long minute, and I didn’t blink. My eye itched, but I refused to give in. Then a slow grin appeared on his face. “Nice try, Trisha, but it’s not going to work.”
Argh!
Sara scowled, folded her arms over her chest, and turned back to the game.
“I’m serious!” I said.
He just gave me a sly look, like he was totally on to me, then he turned back to the game and pressed his shoulder against Sara’s, whispering something to her. She immediately bent her head toward him, and I felt a flash of sympathy. He wasn’t ever going to like her, was he? She needed to forget about him.
Kir
k casually leaned back against my knees, like they were a backrest.
I pulled my knees to the side and he almost fell over.
He raised his brows at me, and I stuck my tongue out at him. “Go lean on Ross.”
He smirked, then turned away and slung his arm over Sara’s shoulders, bending his head next to hers so they could whisper. She giggled, he laughed, and Beth sighed.
Oy. This was going to be a long night. I peeked at Graham, and he was watching us. I pointed at the back of Kirk’s head and made a face, and Graham grinned at me. I smiled back, then realized Beth was looking at me.
“What?” I asked. “He’s a friend. That’s it.”
“No guy who’s that cute can be only a friend.”
“He’s not that cute! He’s just a guy.” When she rolled her eyes at me, I decided to check out Graham again, to see if I could see what she was freaking out about. But when I looked down at him, he was standing up, talking to Ashley Welles, one of the cutest girls in the sophomore class. She had this long, blond hair, a perfect figure, huge blue eyes…and so, of course, all the guys loved her. She was also one of those girls who always had perfect makeup and clothes that were right out of the pages of Cosmo or something.
What was Graham doing talking to her? I thought he wasn’t into the girl scene.
As I watched, she turned and started walking away, and he followed her. Right down off the bleachers toward the concessions.
No. Way. How could he be into her? She was as girly as they come.
“So, that must be his girlfriend.” Kirk sat down next to me with a thump, and I turned away from Graham and Ashley. He brushed his shoulder against mine. “I think I’ll sit up here for a bit. You don’t mind, do you?”
Sara was sitting with her back to us, her arms folded over her chest. Her shoulders were tense and I could practically feel her being mad at me. Get over it, Sara. It wasn’t my fault he liked me, and he wasn’t worth her time. I shifted away from him. “Get away from me.”
“Because you don’t want him to think we’re together?”
“Ha. As if I care what he thinks.” At Kirk’s grin, I suddenly realized I’d given the wrong answer: By telling him I wasn’t interested in Graham, he could take that to mean I was available. I felt like smacking myself in the forehead. I’d had it with the guy/girl thing. It was going to give me a brain freeze!
Kirk scooted closer. “Give it up, Trisha. You know you like me. Stop fighting it.”
“Ew.” I shoved him off me and stood up, nearly tripping over Ross, who was sitting there like a dork, just listening and staring at Beth, who was pretending not to notice he was watching her. “I’m going to get popcorn.”
Kirk stood up. “I’ll go with you.”
“No!” I started to walk away, then stopped when Kirk followed me. “Sara has something she wants to talk to you about.” Sara’s eyes widened in panic, and I shoved Kirk toward her. “She’s been waiting all night to bring it up. Sit and listen.”
Sara immediately sat up and grabbed his arm. “Um, yeah, see I had this question about…um…English. Yeah, English.”
I bailed before Kirk could get away from Sara, jogging down the metal bleachers and heading toward the concessions, my sneakers squeaking with each step. With any luck, the line would be long and I wouldn’t return to my seat until the game was way over.
I headed for cotton candy, because, well, what was better than cotton candy when I was in one of those moods? I took a quick glance around for Graham and Ashley, but didn’t see them. So maybe they’d left. Together. What was up with that?
I folded my arms over my chest and scowled at the back of the head of the girl in front of me. Dark hair, cropped shirt, and low-slung jeans. I felt my eyes widen as I saw the edge of a tattoo peeking out from under the waistband of her pants. There was blond hair and a halo. An angel. My parents would flip if I did that! Unless it was a soccer ball. My dad would probably support that. Assuming I ever saw him again to actually get his permission…
“Hey, Trisha.”
I spun around. “Graham?”
He was standing right behind me, a navy letterman jacket from what must have been his old school slung over his shoulder. His hair was sort of spiky, which was new. It was a good look. I took a quick peek behind him. No Ashley. “What happened to your girlfriend?”
Urp. Had I actually asked that? Like I cared about his life on any level except soccer.
His brow furrowed and he looked behind him, like he was trying to see what I’d been looking at. “What girlfriend?”
“Ashley Welles. I saw you guys talking and…” I suddenly realized it sounded like I’d been spying on him. So I shrugged and turned back so I faced the front of the line. “Whatever.”
He moved next to me, his shoulder brushing against mine, and I caught a whiff of the scent I was beginning to recognize as his own. This time, there was no athletic undercurrent. He just smelled clean. Sort of like the woods. Pine-scented. I grinned to myself. A pine-scented practice partner. How fun.
“She’s not my girlfriend. Are you kidding? A girl like her? Way too high maintenance.” He grinned. “Plus, she hates sports.”
“She’s insane.” I suddenly felt much better than I had a few minutes ago. Probably because the line was finally moving.
He took a step forward as I moved with the line. “What about the blond guy sitting with you? Boyfriend?”
“Ha. He wishes.”
“Huh.”
We were silent for a few minutes, and I watched as a guy came up to tattoo girl in front of me and put his arm around her waist, making some comment about how pretty her hair was. She giggled and leaned into him, fluttering her mascara-laden lashes at him. I snorted and I heard Graham stifle a laugh next to me.
I’d been right about Graham, after all. He was like me. Soccer was our world, and dating was for people who didn’t have enough other interesting things to talk about. “You getting some cotton candy, or what?”
“No, actually, I’m heading out.” He glanced at his watch. “Got a family birthday to attend. I just wanted to say hey.”
“Hey, back.” I grimaced at how wistful I sounded. So what if I hadn’t had a family since my parents had split up at the start of the summer? Didn’t bother me. “Well, have fun.”
He nodded. “See you Monday?”
“You bet. Prepare to run a lot of laps.”
“Back at ya, Trisha Perkins.” Then he looked past my head and frowned. “Ashley spotted me.” He sighed. “She needs to get a life.” He winced visibly when she shouted his name. “I gotta bail. Later.”
And then he was gone.
I chuckled as I saw Ashley run past me, trying to get Graham’s attention. He didn’t run away from me, did he? Nope. Because I was cool, and not girly.
When I got back to my seat, Kirk’s attention didn’t bug me nearly as much as it had earlier in the night.
Go figure.
4
When we were walking to the soccer field for practice on Monday afternoon, I was so busy thinking about Graham that I totally wasn’t paying attention to where we were going.
“Wait a second.” Sara stopped suddenly. “I thought we were practicing with varsity a week from Friday.”
“We are.” I took advantage of the moment to drop to one knee and crank the laces on my right cleat tighter. My shoes were getting a little too broken in. My dad was the one willing to cough up the dough for the really good cleats, so I’d texted him that I needed a new pair.
He must be out of the country or something, because I hadn’t heard from him since before the whole varsity thing had started.
“Then why are the varsity girls on our field? During our practice time?”
I glanced up at our field. “Holy cow.” Sara was right. Varsity girls were there. Now. It was too soon. I wasn’t ready. “They must be finishing up.” Tell me they’re finishing up.
“God, they’re good,” Beth muttered. “I had no idea how much better th
ey were than us.”
“They’re not that good,” Sara scoffed, but there was a slight waver to her voice. “I’m right there with them.”
Coach Merrill was standing next to the varsity coach, and she pointed toward Sara and me. She and Coach Young turned to look at us, then Coach Young nodded and wrote something down on a clipboard she was carrying.
“Oh, no. Not today.” My lungs got tight and a trickle of sweat dripped down my back. I wasn’t ready yet.
“I think today,” Sara whispered. “Kathleen and Heidi are already out there. So are a bunch of other girls from our team.”
Our competition was already on the field? Not fair. I grabbed Sara’s wrist. “Come on. Let’s find out what’s up.”
“Right.” We stalked forward, side by side, and I was vaguely aware of Beth running after us.
We reached Coach Merrill, but before we could ask, she introduced us to Coach Young, then said, “Coach Young wanted an early look at you guys. This isn’t an official tryout, but she wanted to get a sense of where everyone was and see if there was anyone else she wanted to add to the list of potentials.” She nodded at the field. “Why don’t you all head down to the goal and take some practice shots?”
All I could manage was a nod, then I spun around and started jogging toward the goal. My hands were actually shaking.
“See, it’s not a tryout,” Beth said as we made our way out onto the field. “Today doesn’t count for you guys. You’re already on the list.”
Sara and I exchanged glances. “Of course it counts,” I said. “It always counts.”
A varsity girl jogged up to me. “You’re with me. Come on.”
I shot a nervous look at Sara, who gave me a thumbs-up, then I followed the varsity girl. She dropped the ball between us. “I’m Lisa.”
“Trisha.”
“Hey. I’ll play defense. Try to get past me to kick a goal, okay?”
I nodded and wiped my palms on my shorts. My footwork was way better after two days with Graham. I could handle this.
Lisa backed up about ten feet and settled into a defensive stance.
I carved the ball with my foot and headed toward the goal. I’d just lean to the right to make her think I was going that way and then I’d go left…. She was there and stole the ball in less than a second.
The Boyfriend Game Page 3