The Replacement Crush

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  “Better watch all those calories, Chunky Monkey.”

  I whirled around and came face-to-face with Jake.

  “W-what are you…” I sputtered and took a step away from him. I knew I shouldn’t let some jerk tell me what I could eat, but I’d heard the clerk titter at his rude remark.

  He leaned against the counter and surveyed me up and down, his lips curled in a sneer. “There was a reason we only hooked up in the dark.”

  I almost dropped my drink, then briefly considered tossing it in his face. Instead, I turned away and rushed out of the store, my entire body burning with anger and embarrassment.

  After I unlocked the bookstore and turned on the lights, I settled at the desk, willing my body to stop shaking.

  What was his damage? Why had he turned on me like this? Was it because I’d confronted him about using me? I unwrapped my slice of cake and stared at it. What if he was right? I’d always been self-conscious about my weight, even though Jaz and my mom told me there was nothing wrong with my shape.

  Still… I sipped from my mocha and powered on the computer, noticing how my thighs filled up the seat of the chair.

  “Am I fat?” I texted Jaz.

  “WTH??? Why r u asking stupid questions and waking me up?”

  I should’ve known I’d unleash her wrath. But her righteous anger made me feel better.

  “Never mind.”

  “I’m awake now. Tell me what happened.”

  I sighed, staring longingly at my pound cake.

  “Jake happened. Called me Chunky Monkey in the Bean because I bought cake.”

  “??!! I will kick his ass!”

  I smiled at my screen.

  “Forget it.”

  She texted a row of angry face emoticons. “Eat your cake.”

  Intellectually I knew I shouldn’t give any credence to what he said. I could spout off all the feminist arguments against his shallow assessment of me. But that old nickname still hurt.

  I glared at my cake. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t give Jake’s insult any power over me. I was healthy. I rode my bike everywhere and did yoga with Mom. So I had curves, so what? And I freaking loved lemon pound cake.

  After opening my RC notebook, I started to unwrap the cake, but the bells on the door tinkled, announcing a customer.

  A family strolled in—a mom and dad, a little girl bouncing up and down and babbling, and…Dallas? I slammed my RC notebook closed and stood up.

  “Um, hi,” I said. Everyone turned toward me, except Dallas, who hung back from his family, looking as if he wanted the floor to swallow him up.

  “Well, hello.” His mom rushed forward, all smiles. She wore a Wisconsin Badgers baseball cap over her short, dark ponytail. Dallas’s dad followed, smiling in a way that reminded me of Dallas. He wore a red University of Wisconsin sweatshirt with a goofy frowning badger. The little girl, also wearing a red Badgers shirt, made a beeline for the kids’ section thanks to Dallas, who’d pointed her there.

  “Wow, you really love your Badgers.” The words popped out before I could stop them, and I immediately regretted them. Fortunately his parents laughed, but Dallas rolled his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed for them or annoyed with me. He shoved his glasses up his nose and turned to follow his little sister.

  “A lot of our wardrobe is Badger related,” Dallas’s mom said. “My husband taught there for years.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Jamie Lang, Dallas’s mom. And that’s Becca.” She gestured toward her daughter, who’d plunked herself on the floor with a book.

  I leaned over the counter to shake Mrs. Lang’s hand. I liked that she was friendly without being condescending.

  “I’m Robert, Dallas’s dad.” Mr. Lang shook my hand, gripping it tightly. “We thought we’d stop by and see where Dallas is earning his gas money.”

  I heard Dallas sigh from the kids’ section. I darted a quick glance in his direction, but his back was to me.

  “Yeah, well, this is it.” I gestured like a game show host. “Shady Cove’s marvelous book emporium.”

  Mrs. Lang’s big-eyed gaze swept around the store. “I’m a read-a-holic, so this is great.”

  Mr. Lang nodded. “We’re strong supporters of local business, so you can count on us shopping here. We’ve been meaning to stop in, but we spent most of our summer in Wisconsin, so Dallas could have more time with his friends before moving here.”

  Dallas’s heavy sigh drifted toward us again, and I bit back a smirk. I was pretty sure he’d beam his parents out of the store if he could.

  “Is your mom around?” Mrs. Lang asked. Dallas’s shoulders, which looked exceptionally broad today under his tight workout shirt, visibly tensed.

  “No, she’s not. Sorry.”

  Dallas’s parents exchanged disappointed glances. “Well, another time then,” Mr. Lang said. He turned toward the kids’ section. “Come on, guys. We need to go.”

  Becca protested loudly as Dallas approached us, hands in his pockets. “I’ll catch up to you in a few,” he said to his parents, not looking at me. “I need to work out this week’s schedule with Vivian.”

  “Fine,” his mom said. “We’ll check out some other stores. I’m sure you’ll spot us.”

  Dallas shot a glance at their Badger logos. “Yeah. Hard to miss.” His sister tugged at his hand and his gaze softened. “What’s up, Becca?” She held up a chapter book. “Okay, I’ll get it for you.”

  Dallas’s parents gave him a gooey we’re-so-proud-of-our-thoughtful-son smiles. Becca graced me with a gap-toothed grin and waved goodbye.

  After his family left, Dallas took a deep breath and finally looked me in the eyes. Which sucked, because my inner Spock was off duty and I couldn’t figure out where to focus my gaze. Dallas filled up my vision like Superman filled the big screen.

  “So,” I said, swallowing to coat my dry mouth, “how was the party last night?”

  His body, already taut, seemed to tense even more. “Okay.”

  “Just okay?” I wanted to tell him my insider info told me he’d definitely had more than an okay time. But then he’d think I was spying on him, or worse, that I cared.

  He shrugged. “I met some cool people.” He stepped up to the counter and his clean, minty scent made me clutch my pencil so hard I thought it would break in half.

  “So this week,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’m free on Tuesday and Friday after school.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, absently twirling hair around my finger. His eyes shot to my hair, then back to his phone. I tried to ignore how good he smelled. And looked. And sounded. Damn it, Spock, wake the hell up!

  “So my mom asked about doing an inventory.” I gestured toward the shelves. “Of everything. She wondered if you could stay after closing one night to help me. Maybe a couple of nights.”

  His green eyes darkened behind his glasses. “I guess that makes sense.”

  The bells sounded again and we both turned to see Jaz. “Hey!” She practically ran to the counter, screeching to a stop next to Dallas. She tilted her chin at him. “You’re up early after such a late night.”

  He frowned at her, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I wasn’t out that late.”

  She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Uh-huh.” She switched her manic attention to me, pointing an accusing finger. “You totally should’ve come. I can’t believe you stayed home.”

  “I had stuff to do.”

  Jaz snorted. “Yeah, cuz reading books on a Saturday night is totally normal when there’s an awesome party.”

  “It wasn’t that awesome,” Dallas muttered.

  Jaz whirled toward him. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.” I thought of the blurry photo she’d texted me of Dallas sitting on a blanket with an unrecognizable girl.

  As if he’d read my mind, his neck reddened slightly but he didn’t say anything.

  Jaz spun toward me. “Did you eat your cake?” She stuck her hands on her hips, glaring.
r />   I glanced at Dallas, embarrassed. “Um, not y—”

  “Damn it, Viv, you’re not fat!” Jaz turned her crazy energy on Dallas. “You don’t think Viv’s fat, do you?”

  I snuck a mortified glance at Dallas, whose neck was getting redder by the second.

  “I…um…no...d-definitely not…” He stared at the floor, hands jammed in his pockets, more discombobulated than I’d ever seen him.

  Maybe Mom would let me padlock the door to keep Jaz out. Permanently.

  “Of course you don’t,” Jaz said, “because you’re not a moron like some people.” Jaz huffed a satisfied sigh, smiling as if she’d solved global warming. “Anyway, I have news!” She was practically chirping. What was her damage? “Dallas, I’m glad you’re here for this. I’ve confirmed that Fisk is staying at The Lodge. Totally top secret.” She glanced at me. “I wonder if he’s in rehab? Do they detox people up there?”

  Dallas raised his head and cleared his throat. “I, uh, don’t think it’s rehab.” He glanced anxiously between us, then tugged at his hair. I wondered if I’d ever get to find out if his hair was soft or crunchy with product.

  Jaz narrowed her eyes. “For a new guy in town, you seem to know a lot about our visiting celebrity, Dallas.”

  He darted a glance at me. Did he want me to intervene?

  “Not really,” he said. “I’ve heard the same rumors you have.”

  “But you don’t think he’s in rehab,” Jaz insisted. “Why not?”

  He looked at me again, clearly sending an S.O.S.

  “He’s super religious, right?” I jumped in, trying desperately to remember what I knew of Fisk. I didn’t follow the gossip news like Jaz, but I wasn’t immune to clicking the occasional Buzzfeed link. “Christian rock—that’s where he got his start, right? So definitely not in rehab.”

  Dallas nodded vigorously. “Vivian’s right. The guy doesn’t touch anything that would alter his mind.”

  We both turned to gape at him.

  Dallas took a step backward. “I mean, that’s what he always says, right? If you ever read any interviews with him. He does that one song about keeping yourself pure.”

  Jaz snorted. “I thought that song was about sex. Besides, it’s the people who live a sheltered life who go totally crazy once they’re released into the wild.”

  Dallas squeezed his eyes shut, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. I couldn’t blame him. I almost felt sorry for him, but I was more intrigued by his in-depth knowledge of Fisk.

  “Maybe I’ll sneak up to The Lodge,” Jaz said. “See if I can spot him.”

  Dallas’s eyes flew open. “Um, don’t they have tight security up there? Dogs and stuff?”

  Jaz tilted her head. “Dallas Lang. Have you been snooping around, spying on celebrities? You don’t seem like the type.”

  He took a deep breath and shot me an anxious look. “No. I just heard about it. Toff told me he used to sneak onto the grounds til they got the dogs.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sounds like Toff. He’s not scared of anything.”

  Jaz nodded. “He was probably hoping to run into Jennifer Lawrence.”

  Dallas’s phone pinged with a text, and he looked grateful for the interruption. Jaz caught my eye and waggled her eyebrows questioningly. I shrugged. He didn’t strike me as a stalker like Jaz, but he was from Wisconsin. Maybe he was star struck.

  “My parents are waiting for me,” Dallas said, backing toward the door. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “See you later, star stalker,” Jaz cooed, and he grimaced.

  “Bye, Dallas.” I smiled and his grimace disappeared, chased away by a grin that made my breath catch.

  Jaz sighed, turning toward me. “He’s ridiculously cute, for a nerd. Do you think we could talk him into dressing as Superman for Halloween? I want to see those legs in tights.”

  I shook my head. “No way. He’s one of those guys who wears a T-shirt that says ‘This is my costume.’”

  “You sure? You don’t think he’s got a Star Trek uniform stashed in his closet?”

  I froze, thinking of the Star Trek mini-dress I’d ordered online. What if Dallas did have a Star Trek uniform? And we wore them to the same party?

  “Too bad he’s not on your list,” Jaz said, watching me with a smirk. “Such a shame….”

  “Don’t you need to be somewhere?” I glared at her.

  “Yep. Heading to The Lodge right now.”

  “Jaz, don’t. I can’t bail you out of jail; I’m working all day.”

  “Ha. Don’t you worry about me. I’m uncatchable.”

  Later that afternoon, my phone pinged with a text from Dallas. “Sorry about bolting earlier. We never figured out the inventory schedule.”

  “I don’t blame you. Jaz can be scary.” I debated, then finally sent the dorkiest text ever: “James T. Kirk = tsk I’m a jerk.”

  A row of question marks flew across my screen.

  “Anagram,” I replied. I held my breath, waiting. I’d just exposed the unbelievable depths of my nerdiness.

  The ping of his reply made my heart stutter. “Ok PCs = Spock”

  I giggled like the dork I was when I read his anagram reply, then sent another text.

  “Inventory after closing Tue & Fri?”

  He probably had a date on Friday or was going to a party with all the new friends he was meeting. No way would he want to hang out with—

  Ping. “Sure. Both days.”

  “Okay,” I said out loud, trying to calm myself. “Perfect,” I typed.

  And for now, everything was.

  “This is your thirty-fifth attempt to elicit an emotional response from me.” —Spock

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tuesday, September 2

  When I handed Dallas my list of hero categories for our database, I wasn’t sure who was more embarrassed, him or me. I’d asked him to add a new database field for hero types because I had a genius idea about creatively shelving the books.

  He texted me during my first period class: “Rakes of the 19th century. Category name: Tools.”

  That made me giggle, earning a disapproving glare from my teacher.

  The next text arrived about ten minutes later. “Military dudes w/tats. Category: Guns with big guns.” I rolled my eyes, deciding not to reply.

  Fifteen minutes later he sent another text. “Billionaires who want babies? WTH? Category: no clue.”

  That one made me snort with laughter, earning another teacher glare.

  I waited until lunch to text him back. “I thought you didn’t swear. Where r u finding this stuff?”

  “WTH not swearing. Finding stuff is easy. Blog-stalking.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “What’s up?” Jaz asked around a bite of potato chip.

  I sighed. “Dallas is cyber-stalking.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? He doesn’t seem like the creepy type.” She paused. “Though he did know a lot about Fisk.”

  “Not creepy stalking. Blog stalking.”

  Jaz gave me a knowing smile. “Uh-huh. Wonder why?” She nudged Amy, who watched me with her own speculative smile.

  “He’s become obsessed with sub-genres. He’s amazed at the variety, especially for romance books.”

  Jaz and Amy shared a look. “I don’t think it’s the books he’s obsessed with,” Jaz said.

  “Don’t go there,” I warned. “What if he finds my review site?” It would be worse than when he saw the bow-chick-a-wow-wow dance.

  Amy sipped her tea. “He’ll never figure it out. There are tons of review blogs and you don’t use your real name.”

  Nodding, I took a bite of my sandwich. I hoped she was right. I suspected he’d tease me mercilessly if he ever found it.

  “Don’t worry,” Amy said. “We won’t tell him, right, Jaz?”

  Jaz smirked. “Right. Entertaining as that would be, I’ll maintain the girl code of honor.”

  “Look, he’s smart, but not that smart,” Amy said. �
��You use an avatar, not your photo. No name. No city. Nothing to give it away.”

  I forced a smile. “You’re probably right.” But the truth was, if anyone could figure it out, it was Dallas.

  My phone buzzed on the table. “Ghosts?? How does that work? Category: Caspers.” I giggled, then shoved my phone in my bag. I could not do this with him.

  Jaz shook her head in disgust. “It’s like a bad movie, watching you pretend you don’t like him.”

  It wasn’t easy to ignore his texts the rest of the day, but I did. I’d see him later at the store anyway, which my hormones weren’t about to let me forget.

  ...

  “Oh my God. We’re so sorry, Vivian.” Amy raced up to the bookstore counter, her face pinched with worry.

  “Dude, please don’t kill us,” Jaz said, glancing over her shoulder as if she was being followed. “It was a total accident. We didn’t know he was standing there.” She locked eyes with Amy. “What is he, like a ninja assassin or what? I totally thought it was just us waiting for our mochas.”

  “I know, right? Then all of a sudden, wham! He was right there.” Amy nodded vigorously. She thrust a to-go cup toward me. “Mint chocolate mocha. Peace offering.”

  I took the cup warily. “Peace offering for what? You guys are acting crazy.”

  They shared a look that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  “It’s Dallas,” Jaz said. “He knows about your RC mission.”

  “What!” I screeched so loudly all the customers turned to stare at us. “What do you mean?” I whispered, after everyone had gone back to book browsing.

  “We were waiting for our drinks at the Bean,” Amy said. “Making small talk.”

  I frowned at her. “Small talk about me? You call discussing my secret and personal information small talk?”

  Amy could never lie under oath; her face gave away everything. “Okay, so not small talk. But we were sort of…discussing…”

  “Arguing,” Jaz interrupted. “About how crazy you are. About how all guys on your list are terrible matches for you.”

  “Except Toff,” Amy said. “I was saying he’s probably the best one on the list…” Her voice faded away, and she took a long swig of her drink, her cheeks turning slightly pink.