“Working on it.” That was one of the reasons—although not the main one—why I’d broken up with Paige at the beginning of summer. No way was I going to let my teammates down again.
“Maybe it’ll help to remember it’s just a game,” Coach said.
“Just a game.” I could still see the interception I’d thrown in the championship game. The one that cost us the title. The despondent faces of my teammates when I’d let them down. Could still feel the clap of pity from Coach on my shoulder and hear the muted frustration in the locker room. “Right. I’ll try, Coach.”
“Head to the trainer and have her work on that shoulder.” He gave me a pointed look before heading off the field.
I hadn’t told a soul that my shoulder wasn’t one-hundred percent after last season’s injury. There was no way I wanted the team to worry. Or worse, let doubt creep through our ranks and destroy our motivation. Figures Coach picked up on it.
I jogged to the sidelines, stripping off my practice jersey and pads on the way. Grabbing up my bag, I walked over to where TJ waited for me.
“Everything okay?” he asked as we headed in, the last two stragglers on the team.
“Absolutely.” Power of positive thinking, right? I would lead our team to the state championship again this year. Only this year we were going to win. I wasn’t letting anything take my focus off that goal. Not my shoulder. Not a girlfriend. Not—
“Hey, Dax.” Paige had planted herself in the middle of the sidewalk. “The rest of the girls already left for Scoops. I told them I’d catch a ride with you when you’re ready.”
“Sorry. I’m not going to Scoops today.” Or any day soon. Sure, I’d miss the post-practice milkshake, but I had to put an end to Paige fluttering around me like we were still a couple.
“Oh.” She blinked up at me and I couldn’t tell if she was shocked that I’d turned her down or waiting for me to change my mind.
“Maybe TJ can give you a ride,” I offered. Best friends took a bullet for each other, right?
“No,” TJ said. “I’m not going either.”
“I’ll catch a ride with Luke then,” Paige said. Luke, the guy I’d been jealous of last year.
“Have fun,” I said and walked onto the grass to get around her and into the building.
TJ shook his head. “Has any guy ever ended things with Paige? Because she’s like a pilot fish on a shark. Maybe you need to tell her again.”
“I couldn’t have said it any plainer. Not without being a jerk.”
“Time to be a jerk then.”
“Nah, I think I’ve got another way figured out.”
6
I’m Okay–You’re Okay
Ali
Breakfast with Dad, Oct 16, 7:28 a.m.
“One more week down.” I sat on the side of my bed recording into my phone for my vlog. “Anxiety level: seven. DeLeon stresses me out. Who does Dax DeLeon think he is? He’s too cocky by far. If I had a way to knock that cheeky, arrogant, swaggering smirk off his face, I’d do it.”
I cocked my head, listening to the drone of Dad’s music slithering down the hall from the kitchen and shook my head into the camera.
“I used to like mornings in my house. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss Dad’s classic rock. Ever since mom left it’s been German opera 24/7. Have you listened to German opera? It can be dark and depressing. I’m talking pain, death, and rats scurrying through shadowy alleys depressing. Nothing starts off a day like Requiem for a Divorced Dad. Positive affirmation: I breathe in calmness and breathe out nervousness.”
I was already dressed for school: a bowling tournament T-shirt and old sweat pants I’d cut off at the knees. I made an attempt to control my frizzy curls by scrunching my hair into a messy knot with an elastic. Of course, I couldn’t find my flip-flops—thanks to my Golden Retriever, Bella, and her shoe obsession—so I shoved my feet into my Vans and made my way downstairs to the kitchen.
I sucked in one deep breath before I threw myself into the room and went through my “it’s a great day to be alive” routine.
Dad stood at the stove mechanically pushing eggs around in a cast iron skillet. The familiar scent of burned toast floated in the air.
“Morning, Dad!” I flashed him the smile he needed—the one that assured him that he hadn’t messed me up with his solo parenting the last year.
“Hey, Ali-Cat.” He flashed me the smile I needed—the one that assured me that he wasn’t a totally broken man since my mom, his wife of twenty years, left him after a hot torrid affair with the assistant football coach of the high school they’d both worked at. The high school I used to attend. The high school that spread the juicy gossip about the complete, horrific collapse of our lives.
We had a morning routine we’d fallen into. Dad cooked some barely edible breakfast which I made a half-hearted effort to eat. While Dad dished the eggs onto plates, I scraped the burned surface of toast into the trash before spreading the butter and red raspberry jam. Coffee for him. Juice for me. Then we’d sit at the counter and each fake how okay we were. Was it healthy? No, but it’s what had gotten us both this far, so…
“How are your classes? Everything okay?” he asked.
“Good. Really good.” I forked up some eggs, burned bits and all.
His gaze scoured my face. “Are you sure? Because—”
“Seriously, I’m having a great year.” The lie slid out easily. Great was relative anyway.
“Good.” Dad’s shoulders relaxed and the lines across his forehead smoothed out. “Are you making new friends this year?”
“It’s only second semester.” I ripped off a piece of toast and crammed it in my mouth to avoid having to talk. The less I said the better. Dad had enough on his plate.
“Ali…” He put his coffee down, so I knew he was about to get serious. Which meant he’d reach into his limited bag of “dad tricks” and pull out his most powerful weapon—his sad, somber dad eyes.
“I’m running late.” I jerked my face away to avoid his gaze. Sliding from the stool, I scraped my uneaten eggs into Bella’s bowl and dropped my plate in the sink. I usually caved under his dad eyes. Not today. I loved my dad but I also had a solid plan to get through my last year of high school.
“You can’t isolate yourself, Ali,” he said. “It’s not healthy.”
“Then why are you?” I took three steps until I stood directly opposite him at the island. He wore jeans and a polo shirt with “Coach Frost” embroidered over his heart. “Haven’t you been hiding out here in the house playing Mr. Mom ever since you quit your job last year?”
“That’s different.” He wrapped both hands around his mug of coffee. “Your world was turned upside down. You need stability.”
“It was a year ago. I’m moving forward,” I said. “But you look awfully stuck. Do you even leave the house when I’m at school? And going to the grocery store doesn’t count.”
“Of course I do.” His eyes avoided mine. “I go to the gym.”
“And…?” My father blinked a few times before dragging his gaze to meet mine and he might as well have reached his hand into my chest and yanked out my heart. Except he couldn’t because my mother had gotten to that vital organ first. My dad’s eyes said so much. Much more than he’d admit to me. They said he was still in pain. Still devastated. They said he was lost.
“I need to make sure you’re okay,” he said.
And I needed to make sure he was okay before I went away to college.
“You need to get out of the house, Dad. You need to get back to work. The high school wants you back. They’ve been calling since last year.”
He shook his head. “Would you want to go back there?”
Absolutely not. “Fair point. What about one of the other schools? At least three other schools have left messages. It’s time, Dad. You’ve got to let it go and get your life back.”
“Probably. I don’t know.” Dad ran a hand around the back of his neck and released a long
sigh before tilting his head and giving me a long look. “Okay. I’ll try… As soon as I know you’re okay.”
“I’m okay. Great even.” I plastered on a smile. “I’m making friends. Ogling cute boys. Skipping class. You know, all the normal stuff.”
“Skipping class?” Dad shot me a dark frown.
“Kidding! See? I even have my sense of humor back,” I said. “I told you I was fine.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it, kiddo.”
See it? My dad had become a helicopter parent. Unbelievable.
I had a love-hate relationship with bowling class. I loved that I got to practice my bowling. I loved being in the bowling alley. There was something about the repetitive sound of pins crashing in the cavernous space that relaxed me. It soothed me. All the noise blended together into the background allowing me to focus on my form. Usually.
I hated having to listen to Paige and Gwen’s litany of the newest gossip, endless attempts to flirt with Dax, and high-pitched giggles that drilled their way into my consciousness. I hated that Dax was either looking at my butt (sort of not his fault since he had to sit behind me waiting for his turn) or trying to talk to me.
The first week of class I’d ignored him but the guy was nothing if not persistent. Ignoring wasn’t working. So this week I’d apply a new tactic. Maybe if I responded he’d feel like he won the “annoy the geek girl” game and he’d stop.
I’d just finished putting on my bowling shoes and setting my sneakers to the side when Dax joined me at our assigned lane, sitting next to me.
“Morning, Ali.” He smiled at me, those dark gorgeous eyes of his snagged mine.
“Morning, De—Dax.” See? I could be nice. I could play his game until he got bored and moved on.
His eyebrows shot up at my response. “You’re talking to me? I mean, of course you are. We’re bowling partners. Maybe—eventually—more than that. I feel like this is the beginning of a beautiful—”
“Whoa, there. Let’s not go overboard. How about we bowl? You’re up first.”
He pointed at me with a bad boy grin so cute it was easy to see why girls went crazy over him. “Okay. But you might as well go first while I put my shoes on.”
“Sure.” I retrieved my ball from its bag and held my right hand over the air vent to make sure it was dry.
“Morning, Dax,” Paige sing-songed. Yep. Paige and Gwen had arrived, settling in at the lane next to us, late and loud.
“Hey,” he said with barely a glance over at his ex.
Moving onto the approach, I gripped my ball.
“That is one sweet ball,” Dax said.
I jerked my head around to see if he was being sarcastic, but no, he was serious. Today I was breaking in my new 900 Global Boo-Yah! ball. I figured he wouldn’t be interested in its low differential, high RG core. “Thanks.”
My plan for bowling class was to use my time to strengthen the weak areas of my game. Up first: converting spares. I’d been missing too many 7 pin spares lately. I didn’t need strikes today. My goal was to convert the 7 pin ten times in a row. I set my body, lifted my ball, found my target, and threw.
“You’re hooking left,” Dax said.
“That’s the plan,” I said, my gaze tracking my ball, mentally coaxing it along as it flew down the lane and took out the 7 pin.
“Frosty missed half the pins!” Gwen squealed with excitement.
“Aw, too bad, Frosty,” Paige said. “I guess your own bowling shoes and bowling ball can only do so much. Too bad, so sad.”
Dax threw a look over at Gwen and Paige. “You do know she did that on—”
“I’m sure you’ll get a strike next time.” Gwen snickered.
“You should watch Dax. You might learn something.” Paige fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Dax is an excellent bowler. He always beats me on our bowling dates.”
Dax mumbled something under his breath as he stood for his turn.
“Used to beat you,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “We haven’t been together for months.”
“Every couple takes a break now and then.” Paige shook her blond hair, confidence oozing from every hair follicle.
His gaze moved from Paige to me and his frown disappeared sliding into a slow, flirtatious smile. A smile aimed at me.
“Not a break. I’m with someone else now.” His eyes burned me up, hot and intense. “Right, Ali?”
“Wh—what?” My gaze darted over to Paige and Gwen’s dumbfounded faces and then back to Dax.
“I know you wanted to keep it a secret, but that’s impossible, babe.” He winked at me.
“Are you kidding me?” Paige said, her voice pitching high. “You’re joking. I don’t believe it.”
If I was reading this right…Dax DeLeon wanted me to be his pretend girlfriend to fend off his ex. Why would I do that? I didn’t want or need any of these people in my life. In fact, it was the last thing I wanted.
Although… Make friends. Ogle cute guys. I’ll believe it when I see it, kiddo.
“Believe it. Ali and I are…” He raised an eyebrow at me and waited. He was giving me the option to go along with him or deny it. “Ali?”
7
You Didn’t Even Know Her Name
Dax
The idea to use Ali to get Paige off my back and accept we were done came to me last week. It was a brilliant idea. The only thing was I hadn’t planned on putting it into motion this soon. I figured after a few weeks of being bowling partners we’d get to know each other. Become friends. Then I’d ask her.
Unfortunately, I’d let Paige’s continued pushing—acting like we were still together—mess up my game plan. I let her draw me offside. So I tossed up a Hail Mary pass and hoped Ali would catch it. Based on the cool narrow-eyed gaze Ali had pinned on me, she was going to stay on the sidelines. Maybe even call a foul. It was too soon. She didn’t know me. Heck, she didn’t even like me. Why would she help me?
I nodded at her. Fair enough. “Yeah, I’m k—”
“It’s true,” Ali said. She shrugged and gestured with her hand between us. “We’re a…thing.”
Gwen gasped.
Paige snorted in disbelief. “You didn’t even know her name last week!”
“That didn’t stop him.” Ali sent me a half-smile, but her eyes sparked with humor. “He fell for me the minute he saw me. The second time he saw me he begged me to go out with him. I didn’t really like him at first, but I felt sorry for him. It was pretty pathetic, so I agreed to a pity-date with him. It wasn’t half bad, so now we’re a thing.”
Oh, nice. She’d help me but she was going to make me pay for it. Two could play at that game.
“There’s no way.” Paige parked her hands on her hips. “The two of you? It makes no sense.”
“Tell us about it. It’s that jock-nerd thing. Isn’t that right, stud?”
“That’s right, gummy bear.” I swallowed a laugh. This would be a fun semester.
“OMG! Nicknames? You’re at the nickname stage already?” Gwen grabbed Paige’s arm. “Did you and Dax get to the nickname stage?”
That would be a no.
Paige didn’t respond. She stood blinking at me in surprise before whispering, “Gummy bear?”
“Because I’m sweet, soft-hearted, and huggable.” Ali nodded and poked me in the arm. “Can we get back to bowling now? My spare conversion isn’t going to fix itself. Your turn, boo.”
Paige glared at Ali before turning her over-bright eyes on me.
“I know what this is. You’re trying to make me jealous. That’s all. You’ll get bored.” She flicked a dismissive gaze over to Ali. “I’ll wait.”
“I’m not trying to make you jealous.” Another reason why I’d broken up with Paige: in Paige’s world, everything revolved around her.
“Whatever.” She pinned on a fake smile and smoothed her hair. After one last narrowed-eyed glance at Ali she snapped, “Gwen. Bathroom. Now.”
The two girls stomped off, whispering madly t
he whole way.
Ali sat biting her bottom lip as she tracked their exit.
“Well that was fun,” I said, trying to get things back to normal. Although Ali and I didn’t have a normal. Yet.
She only frowned, her attention still focused on the bathroom.
“Thanks for playing along.” I slid over onto the seat next to her. “I thought for sure you were going to say no.”
Her gaze slid to mine and away. “I almost did.”
“Well, thanks. I owe you one.”
“Yeah you do,” she said. “I aim to collect.”
“We should talk about how to work this…”
“Later, okay?” She sighed. “I’ve already lost too much practice time on you and your fan club.”
“Right.” Grabbing a ball from the rack, I moved to the lane, set my sights on the pins, and rolled. It wasn’t even close to a strike.
“Bummer. The Big Four,” Ali said.
“Excuse me?”
She nodded down to the pins. “The Big Four. When you leave the 4-6-7-10 pins. It’s a tough shot.”
Paige and Gwen returned to the lane next to us. I shut out their whispers and sharp glances and focused on bowling. That’s what Ali wanted and I owed her. I stepped up for my attempted spare, aiming for the 4 pin and throwing hard in hopes the pin I hit would take out the other three with it. I managed to knock down two pins.
Ali picked up her ball and took her position to roll. She had a smooth, confident delivery. Once again, she didn’t get a strike but turned to grab her ball with a satisfied smile on her face.
“Why are you aiming to the left?” I’d watched her bowl all last week and most of the time she rolled strikes.
“Practicing picking up spares.”
“Oh. You’re really good at bowling.” My friends and I bowled sometimes, but none of us knew anything about bowling. “I guess you bowl a lot?”
Gwen laughed and jumped into our conversation. “The old guy at the shoe counter knows her. Said she’s here all the time. That she practically lives here on weekends.”
Ali & the Too Hot, Up-to-No Good, Very Beastly Boy: A Standalone Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 1) Page 4