So as we sat there in the darkness of his car, I told him about how Alex had asked me, the weird comment my teammate had made, the way Alex had eaten already and assumed that I had too. I told him how it had all unraveled in the kitchen right up until he’d stepped in.
I ended with a sad sigh as I let my head drop back against the seat. “Thank God this night is over.”
I rolled my head to the side to see that he was giving me a smile—a small one that was comforting and oddly sweet. I had no idea Drew Remi could do sweet. It seemed his smiles knew no bounds.
“So what I’m hearing is, you’re hungry.”
I stared at him, surprised by his teasing, comfortable tone as much as the glimmer of humor in his eyes.
God, could he get any hotter? It just wasn’t fair. He didn’t even seem to try. He was just naturally charming and sweet and sexy and—gah! I was staring. I shook my head quickly and reached for the door. “Starving. And desperately in need of a change.”
His hand on mine made me freeze and heat up all at the same time. My brain felt like scrambled eggs at the light touch. I turned back to see him giving me that lopsided grin that made my belly do backflips. “I don’t know about you, but it’s Saturday night and I really don’t want the night to end at eight o’clock or with either of us starving to death.”
I stared at him, my mind a blank. All of my attention was focused on his hand on mine. What was he saying? I felt too stupid to understand anything more complicated than one syllable action verbs.
“Let’s eat,” he said. “Together.” When I was still quiet he looked a little less certain but still just as cute. “Unless you don’t want to, in which case—”
“I do.” I blurted it out and then realized just how much it sounded like I was exchanging vows. “I mean, I do want to eat. With you.”
Ugh, I was never speaking again. After tonight I was swearing off the English language. Maybe I’d learn sign language or something.
“Great.” He sat back in his seat and released my hand. I was now able to breathe. And move.
I pointed at my house. “I’ll just, uh… I’ll be right back.”
I tried not to run into my house because I was trying to play it cool. No, I wasn’t trying to fake it till I make it. Not with Drew, at least. No amount of faking it would fool someone who’s known me my whole life. But I was attempting to be cool.
Cool for Ronnie, which was really not all that cool. But it did involve not running and squealing around the new hot friend.
I came to a screeching halt when I hit my bedroom. Was that what Drew was? My friend?
I shrugged out of my shirt and grabbed a change of clothes to slip into after a super quick shower. Thank God it was date night for my parents, otherwise how the hell would I explain the fact that I smelled like a brewery?
I pulled my hair back in a loose ponytail after I washed up and threw on a clean shirt. Another T-shirt but this one didn’t cling and I felt far more comfortable. I also swapped out the skirt for a pair of faded, comfy jeans. After all, there was no impressing Drew. No amount of fancy clothes or primping would change the fact that he knew me—the class tomboy, and the gangly, non-girlie, not-popular nobody.
As I headed out feeling comfortable for once, I didn’t care about any of that. All I cared about was reveling in the fact that I wasn’t suffocating in clothes. And that very soon I would be eating.
I was seriously starving.
Chapter Six
Drew
I watched Veronica eat her pizza with unabashed abandon. It was a beautiful sight, really. She was no less beautiful now that I knew she was Ronnie, but she looked different. And it wasn’t just the more relaxed clothing or the fact that her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.
It was hard to explain but knowing who she was—knowing she was the same Ronnie who’d helped me walk home when I’d skinned my knees on the way home from the park in third grade, the girl whose mom always brought soccer-themed cakes to the in-school birthday parties—it made my view of her shift like a kaleidoscope.
Watching her take another bite of pepperoni pizza I felt it click into place. She came into focus.
“Are you just going to sit there and stare at me while I eat?” she asked. Her gaze never left the slice of pizza in her hands as if she was afraid someone was going to come along and snatch it from her.
I grinned. Now that sounded like the Ronnie I remembered. Snarky and sarcastic and not even a tiny bit giggly.
Her gaze shot up to meet mine and my smile faltered. This was Ronnie, all right. And this was also Veronica. Man, how had I never noticed how pretty she was before? Had she always been this hot?
She was waiting for me to respond, obviously, so I forced a smirk. This was Ronnie, after all. “Sorry, I’ve just never seen a girl inhale an entire pizza before. You should think about entering an eating competition.”
For a half second I thought she’d balk. Most girls would not love to have their eating habits pointed out and mocked.
But most girls were not Ronnie.
She smiled at me as she chewed and the smile made her dark eyes brighten and her face light up. “Maybe I should,” she said. “It sounds like a pretty awesome gig.”
We sat there smiling at each other in silence for way too long. I’d forgotten what we were talking about, to be honest. I was too busy marveling at this change in Ronnie… or in the new version of Veronica.
I was confused, obviously. But it wasn’t every day the girl you’ve been crushing on ends up being the tomboy you’ve known since birth.
I had so many questions for her but I had no idea how to start. I guess I was a little afraid of hearing the answers, too. It really all came down to one question. Why hadn’t she told me she was Ronnie?
Maybe because she thought you would have recognized her. Maybe she wanted nothing to do with her elementary school friend. Or maybe—
“You’re doing it again,” she pointed out.
I was staring. Again. Creepily, no doubt. I shook my head with a laugh. “Sorry, I’m just still getting used to this.” I glanced up and met her gaze. “You look different.”
She let out a little snort of amusement that was pure Ronnie. “I should hope so.”
He blinked at her. What did that mean?
She set down her slice and waved vaguely in the direction of her face and hair. “Do you have any idea how much time and energy it takes to look like this?” She curled her lip up disgust. “Such a waste.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. She was just so Ronnie. How had I not seen it before? Maybe I’d been blinded by her beauty…literally. “I guess I don’t know how long it takes, but I will say that you look amazing.”
Was it possible? Was Ronnie Smith blushing? Something about that blush made my chest feel too tight, and breathing became difficult. This was a whole new side of Ronnie.
God, the girl was like an endless riddle. I’d always known her as the class tomboy—if asked before this week I would have said she was average looking, into soccer, and kept to herself at school.
But now? Now I realized I didn’t really know Ronnie. Or Veronica, for that matter. I would never have guessed that Veronica played soccer if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. And up until tonight I would have said she was a girlie girl who was into clothes and shopping, and had loads of girl friends.
That thought made me think of what had happened earlier in the night and I felt my stomach churn on her behalf. I thought of Alex’s face as he reveled in the limelight. And what an ass. I’d never thought of him as a great friend, just a teammate, but we’d been friendly.
Until tonight.
I clenched my hands so hard some soda sloshed over the side of my paper cup. At Veronica’s questioning look, I forced myself to relax. “So, if you hate doing this...” I copied her vague waving gesture. “Why do it?”
It was the wrong question to ask. I could tell that instantly in the way her nostrils flared and she took a deep brea
th as if praying for patience. “You wouldn’t understand.”
She wasn’t particularly mean in the way she said it but the words were enough. It made me stiffen. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged and went back to eating. “It means you wouldn’t understand.”
I don’t know why this bothered me so much but I didn’t like the way she was writing me off. Like she knew everything about me and had already decided what I would and would not understand. “Because I’m not a girl?”
She shrugged again. “That and other reasons.”
“Like what?”
She shot me a quick look of annoyance before setting down her pizza with a sigh. “You wouldn’t get it because you’ve always been popular.”
Oh.
She gave me a smug smile before taking a sip of her water.
For some reason that smug smile brought back that feeling of annoyance. What did Veronica know about me and my popularity?
Everything, a little voice reminded me. She’s known you forever.
Yes, but she didn’t know everything. She saw what everyone saw—the guy who had it all. And for a long time he’d seen himself that way. Up until everything fell apart. First his parents’ marriage, then his friendships as he’d been forced to go to California, then his relationship with April when she’d broken up with him…. The list went on and on. After a lifetime of being blessed, this past year it seemed like nothing was going right.
The only thing that hadn’t failed him was baseball. Every school had a team and unless his arm gave out on him or he got in an accident or something, he would excel at it.
It was the one thing he could count on.
She’d gone back to eating but he wasn’t through. Tonight, the only thing he hated more than Alex, Tina, and that crowd was the way Veronica was writing him off.
“Try me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled her with a glare that would have made most back down.
Not Veronica.
She widened her eyes in surprise but then grinned as she set down her glass and folded her arms just like I’d done. “Okay, hotshot. When’s the last time you were invisible?”
Bam. Her words punched me in the gut. No, not her words so much as the look in her eyes. There was an age-old hurt there and I knew in that moment that I was to blame.
Well, maybe not just me, but I was a part of whatever pain she’d experienced. I wanted to apologize but didn’t know how. Hell, I didn’t even know what I’d be apologizing for. “You’ve never been invisible,” I said.
She gave another snort but this time it was less amused and far more mocking. “Oh really?” she said. “Then why didn’t you recognize me when I literally ran right into you at Briarwood?”
I flinched. Good question. I’d been asking myself the same thing.
I still didn’t have an answer. My silence seemed to be all the answer she needed because she continued on as if I’d just made her point. “You see? You didn’t recognize me because you didn’t remember me. I was just some girl you went to school with. You didn’t know me. Once popularity became a thing, I was forgotten.”
“You have friends,” I said. I could picture Ronnie at Atwater walking down the hall with a group of guys, joking and laughing.
“Of course I have friends,” she snapped. “I’m not a leper.”
I shrugged. “So how are you invisible then? You have friends.” I said it with too much emphasis, probably giving away some of my own anger.
As I spoke I kept thinking about my friends—my former friends. Sure I’d been popular, but did I ever have any true friends?
“I have great friends. Excellent friends. I’m not looking for any more good friends,” she said, her words tumbling out quickly. “But you don’t know what it’s like to be surrounded by people who’ve known you forever but who don’t know you.”
I stared at her. I’m pretty sure my horror was written plainly on my face. She’d lost me after her little tirade about her awesome, wonderful friends. “Do you hear yourself? You have friends. Good friends. What more do you need?”
She shook her head so quickly her ponytail whipped back and forth. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been invisible my whole life.” She stopped suddenly, and her eyes filled with pain as she rolled her eyes. “Until tonight, at least.” She dropped her head into her hands with a moan and I forgot my irritation. It melted away instantly at the sight of her looking so miserable.
I’d been so into our conversation I’d almost forgotten how this all began. Without thinking I reached over and placed one hand on her arm in support. She stiffened at my touch but didn’t pull away.
“Those guys back there are jackholes,” I said, using the stupid term my sister and I had made up years ago to avoid cursing at home. “They don’t deserve to be friends with you.”
After a brief hesitation, she peeked up and I felt a rush of relief to see that she was smiling slightly. “They are jackholes, aren’t they?”
I laughed as she repeated my lame insult. “Total jackholes.”
She dropped her hands and sat up straight again. “I can’t believe I actually thought that they liked me.”
“They probably do like you,” I felt compelled to say. I don’t know why I was sticking up for that crowd but I needed to see her smile again. “What happened tonight wasn’t about you. It was about them.”
She arched one eyebrow. “That sounds like something my grandma would tell me to make me feel better.”
I grinned. “Well your grandma would be right.”
She rolled her eyes and I could tell she didn’t believe me. Leaning forward, I took one of her hands in mine. I’d opened my mouth to speak but temporarily forgot what I was going to say at the feel of her warm skin. Electricity seemed to leap from her hand to mine.
She leaned forward a bit, giving me an expectant look and I pushed away the stupid attraction to focus on Ronnie, my once-upon-a-time friend. “I’m not being nice when I say that it’s not about you,” I said. “The more you hang out with those people, the more you’ll notice that most popular people are popular because they’re always thinking about themselves. They are self-absorbed and other people buy into that.”
“Wow.”
For half a second I thought maybe she was blown away by my insight. But then a teasing smile hovered over her lips. “Jaded much?”
I laughed. Yeah, I guess I was pretty jaded. I’d been hanging with a popular crowd for as long as Ronnie had been feeling invisible. I tilted my head from one side to the other as though deliberating her words. “Maybe I’m a little cynical these days.”
When I met her gaze again, I was surprised to see her studying me. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?” Playing dumb seemed like a good idea at the time.
She didn’t fall for it, obviously. “What happened to make you so cynical about your friends?”
The truth came blurting out before I could stop it. “I guess I just discovered that they weren’t really my friends.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe more questions or some teasing mockery at my earnestness. But she just turned her hand in mine so it was palm up and squeezed. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine. But at that particular moment, with her hand in mine and no one else around, life seemed pretty perfect.
Her sad sigh had my gaze focusing on her face again—this face that was both my old friend Ronnie and my new crush Veronica. I was starting to get used to this new version of them both.
And I liked it. I liked her.
Oh hell. I felt a tugging in my chest that let me know just how much of an understatement that was. I liked her a lot. Like, more than I liked old friend Ronnie and much more than I’d crushed on new hottie Veronica.
This feeling was new and intense, and I was in so much trouble.
She bit her lip and I tried no to focus on her lips. This was Ronnie. A frie
nd… maybe. Hopefully. Then she tilted her head to the side and gave me a mischievous grin that set my heartrate soaring.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked, her voice impossibly sweet.
I met her smile because it was impossible not to. I was having the best time I’d had in a long time. I had no desire to think about April or Lee so I shook my head. “Not really.”
“But how will I know who I should add to my vengeance list if you don’t name names?”
I blinked at her. I’d been so lost in these crazy new emotions it took me a minute to register what she’d said. Her smile grew along with her teasing tone as she pointed to herself. “I’m kicking ass and taking names over here, Drew. You might want to get in on this.”
I laughed, all thoughts of April and the others evaporating along with the terrifying paralysis that came with realizing I had a major thing for Ronnie Smith. Or Veronica Smith, whatever.
“I’m serious,” she said, her eyes comically wide. “Especially if some girl did something to make you this jaded. Because honestly, you might not be able to get away with a bitch slap but I totally can.” She flexed her arms like Hulk Hogan. “Bring it.”
My face hurt from smiling. Had it really been that long since I’d genuinely laughed with a friend that my face muscles had gone weak? Apparently so.
She didn’t let up, prodding and teasing until I spilled the truth. By that point, the wave of hurt was gone, thanks to my new good mood so I told her the embarrassing truth about how my ex had dumped me for my friend weeks after I’d left.
Her teasing stopped as soon as I told her. Her pretty eyes grew soft and sad, but not filled with pity, thank God. I don’t think I could have handled pity, not from her.
“April did that?” she asked.
I nodded. I could have just let it go but my mouth seemed to have other plans. “The worst part about that breakup wasn’t really the breakup.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean, yeah it sucked, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think a high school relationship like ours would work long distance for long.”
Out of His League Page 7