The Replacement Crush

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  He frowned and rubbed his chin as he stared at lines of code, absently reaching into the bowl for popcorn. I pulled my history textbook out of my backpack and started reading.

  “Do you have a lot of homework tonight?” He snapped open his soda can.

  I shook my head, not looking at him. “Not much.”

  “Can you scoot your chair over here? I need to show you something.”

  I shot him a glance from the corner of my eye, then scooted my chair over a tiny bit. He sighed next to me. Through my hyper-aware peripheral vision, I saw him tug at his hair. I knew he was frustrated. But with me or the software? Maybe both.

  “So when you add new books, you have to be sure to hit the submit button or it won’t save to the database.”

  “I know that, Dallas.” I winced at the defensiveness in my voice.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so maybe you need to remind your mom?”

  I nodded.

  “Also, if you don’t enter anything in the author field, the book doesn’t show up on the report. That’s a bug, unfortunately. But I can fix it so you’ll at least see the titles on the report. Then you’ll know to add the author names later.”

  I nodded again. I didn’t want to say anything that sounded whiney or defensive. I scooted my chair away and pretended to study.

  We sat in silence for awhile, Dallas’s fingers flying over the keys, pausing occasionally to grab a handful of popcorn. I wondered what it would be like to kiss him now since he’d taste like butter.

  Suddenly I remembered his Star Trek bible. The book was a giant brick, but I’d been carrying it around with me for reasons I chose not to analyze. I retrieved it from my messenger bag and set it on the desk.

  “You don’t want it anymore?” He flipped it open, paging through it like he’d discovered a long-lost friend.

  “No.”

  He glanced up, frowning slightly. “I thought you liked it.”

  I swallowed. “I do. I mean, I did. It’s great…it’s just…” I shrugged. “I’m sort of done with Star Trek.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “How is that possible? That’s like saying you’re done with chocolate and peanut butter.” His glance strayed to the candy dish which overflowed with Reese’s peanut butter cups.

  I bit back a smile. I couldn’t do this with him. Not when he was with Kylie and I was with…no one.

  “Cold turkey,” I said. “It’s the best way to stop bad habits.” Or obsessions you can’t control.

  He reached for his soda and took a long drink. Then he crossed his arms over his stupid shirt and narrowed his eyes. “Speaking of bad habits, how’s everything going with your replacement mission? Any luck?”

  Why was he doing this? Nervous energy flooded my body. I thought of the shredded RC list and the guilt I still felt about Henry. I took a shaky breath. “It’s over.”

  Dallas’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “So…mission accomplished? Target acquired?”

  I almost smiled at his battle lingo. God, I’d missed this. Missed him. “No.” I kept my eyes on his. “Mission fail.”

  He took another handful of popcorn and chewed slowly, watching me. I forced myself to maintain eye contact until he finally spoke. “I always thought you picked the wrong target.”

  I felt a blush flood my cheeks with warmth. Of course I’d picked the wrong target, but I couldn’t admit it. As far as I knew, Dallas was still with Kylie. I wasn’t going to be a home wrecker. Or crush wrecker. Whatever. I’d done enough damage already.

  “So, no Surfer Ball date?” He brushed his hands together, sending white crumbs flying. He frowned, looking around for a vacuum probably. I bit back a smile watching his neat-freakiness in action.

  “Nope,” I said. “Unless you count the hunkalicious hero I need to read about and review.”

  The corner of his mouth curved into a sexy smile. “What type? Castle Craving? Power Rangers?”

  No way was I confessing to reading about a McNerd hero. “I have a stack of ARCs I need to pick from. I haven’t decided yet.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, and I remembered how it had felt when I ran my own hands through his hair the night we kissed. Heat bloomed everywhere in my body.

  “You should go anyway,” he said. “Go with your friends. You don’t need a date. It’s not the fifties.”

  He was right, of course, but I couldn’t tell him the main reason I’d decided not to go was I didn’t want to see him and Kylie wrapped around each other all night. That would kill me.

  Instead, Claire would spend the night at my house watching movies, since Jaz and Amy were going to the dance. They kept trying to convince us to join them, but Claire felt like I did, not wanting to see Jake entwined with anyone else.

  “I’m sure I’ll get a full report on my phone,” I said. “Pictures of all the perfect couples. Whatever.” I reached toward the popcorn bowl and he pushed it toward me. I took a big handful, grateful for something to keep me from babbling.

  “Maybe if you…” he began, then stopped. He turned away, his jaw tight.

  “Just don’t worry about me, okay?” I snapped, suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions tidal-waving through me. I couldn’t have this conversation with him. It hurt too much. “Your replacement mission obviously worked out better than mine,” I said through a clenched jaw. “I’m sure you and the perfect Kylie will have a perfect Surfer Ball experience.”

  He faced me, his eyes narrowed. “Whoa. Why are you mad at me? I’m not the one who decided to act like a Spock robot and not date people I was attracted to.”

  I wanted to throw my popcorn at him. “Why do you care anyway, Dallas? It’s not like we…” I let my voice trail away, hearing Jake’s voice in my mind. “It’s not like we were a thing.”

  He leaned back in his chair like I’d slapped him, then spoke through gritted teeth. “Look, I know that night we…that you and I…” His voice trailed away. “Things weren’t the same between us after that.”

  “No kidding. One minute you kissed me like…like you meant it, but then you stormed off. Then next thing I know you’re dating Kylie.” I was appalled at the raw emotion in my voice. I hoped he’d only hear the anger, not the desperate regret underneath.

  His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. “You’re giving me grief? You, who had a whole list of replacement boyfriends you wanted to take out for a test run? Who said you didn’t care about chemistry or connection? Who basically told me to get lost after we kissed?” His face reminded me of the Hulk before he blew up into the green monster. “I thought…” His green eyes flashed like a storm burned inside of him.

  “You thought what, Dallas?”

  He turned away, his whole body tightened with anger. “I thought after we…” His shoulders heaved with a heavy sigh. “Maybe it meant more to me than it did to you.” He met my gaze again, but the angry storm in his eyes had been replaced by wariness, telegraphing a question I didn’t want to answer.

  I couldn’t do this with him. I jumped up and hurried to the kitchen, closing the door behind me. This sucked, to infinity and beyond. I swiped at the tears on my cheeks. Screw it. I was going home. Mom could deal with Dallas.

  A knock sounded softly on the door. I pretended not to hear it as I stepped onto the back porch; but before I could escape, Dallas’s voice stopped me.

  “Vivian. Please don’t go.”

  I didn’t turn around, standing frozen on the dark porch, praying he’d apologize but also wanting to run for the house. His footsteps echoed on the kitchen tile, then he stood directly behind me. I smelled his clean scent and heard his deep sigh.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was low, and strained. “Please turn around. Look at me.”

  I shook my head, staring toward our house where a lone lamp shone out of Mom’s attic office. Everything looked blurry through my tears.

  His hands settled on my shoulders and I flinched. Why was he touching me? His voice was almost a whisper. “I don’t know…I just…God, you make me
crazy, Vivian. The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

  My skin burned under his touch. I stepped out of his grip and spun around.

  “You’re wrong, Dallas. When I kissed you, it did mean something to me.” So much I can’t even tell you. I took a shaky breath “I don’t know if—if maybe you heard something about Jake and me, and that’s why you think…” I couldn’t say any more about those lies. “You know what? Forget it. I’m going home. Just text my mom when you’re done.”

  “Viv, wait—”

  But I didn’t wait; I left quickly, not daring to look back.

  ...

  It was almost eleven when I heard the whine of Dallas’s Vespa fade away into the night. Mom had gone to the store after I’d stormed into the house. I’d refused to tell her what we’d fought about, but she’d returned a short time later and knocked on my bedroom door.

  “Dallas is as close-lipped as you are. But he’s staying until he fixes the software. He said he’d finish tonight.”

  “Whatever,” I mumbled into my pillow. Of course he’d finish tonight; he didn’t want to spend any more time with psycho Vivian. I flopped over onto my back. “Isn’t he special?”

  She sighed so loudly it seemed to float under my door and right into my heart. “Vivvy, I don’t know what is going on with you two. My guess is a lovers’ quarrel.” She paused. “A very intense one. I hope you two can work it out.”

  Lovers’ quarrel? No wonder she wrote mysteries instead of romances.

  “We hate each other,” I called through the door. “So I guess it’s a haters’ quarrel.” I paused. “Whatever you do, don’t break the computer again. I’ll quit if he has to come back and fix anything else.”

  She laughed softly on the other side of the door, and I threw my pillow across the room. Then I picked up my cell and scrolled through the messages Dallas had sent while I’d pouted in my room. Three apologies. Four pleas to return to the store. Five stupid emoticons: sad faces, goofy faces, even a stupid Spock face.

  It killed me that he might have heard I’d slept with Jake, and now assumed that kissing him hadn’t meant anything to me, when the opposite was true. The unfairness of it overwhelmed me.

  I pulled up Jake’s number and typed a new text message quickly, before memories of his threats stopped me. “You said you’d back off. Stop telling lies about me. You’d better not tell any lies about Claire, either. I’m sorry I ever let you touch me.”

  I stared at the unsent text. I wasn’t going to let him keep causing trouble for me. No matter what Dallas or anyone else believed, what mattered was the truth.

  Maybe I was just a nerdy bookstore girl, but didn’t I matter as much as anyone else? Didn’t Claire? Didn’t we deserve to be treated decently if someone dumped us? Or even if we broke up with them?

  I was tired of worrying about Jake and his lies, but I was even more tired of scurrying around like a scared rabbit, hiding from him on campus, too afraid to tell my friends about his threats. I took a deep breath and hit send.

  Then I scrolled through Dallas’s apology texts one last time before deleting them, wishing I could delete my feelings for him, too.

  “If there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them.” —Spock

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Wednesday, October 8

  I told Jaz about my fight with Dallas, then she told Amy, so by the time we gathered for lunch I knew they’d be taking my metaphorical temperature.

  “Are you okay?” Amy asked. “Do you want some tea? I always keep chamomile in my locker, in case of emergencies.”

  “You and Natasha.” I sighed, leaning my hand on my chin. “I don’t want to talk about Dallas.”

  “What happened?” Claire asked, fiddling with a dreadlock. I was glad she’d rejoined our lunch table after yesterday’s scene.

  “Big-time drama,” Jaz stage-whispered.

  Claire raised her eyebrows at me. “You guys used to date, right?”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Toff slid onto the bench next to Amy, making her blush and disrupting my train of thought.

  “’Sup, my lovely harem? What’s the big gossip today?” Toff grinned at us and tore open a bag of potato chips.

  “Dallas and Viv had a huge fight,” Jaz said.

  “Dude, seriously?” I glared at Jaz. She had no filter.

  She shrugged and tilted her head toward Toff. “He’s one of the girls now, right?” She grinned at him. “You know how Dallas and Viv are. Pretending they can’t stand each other when they really want to tear each other’s clothes off.”

  “So it’s gonna be one of those lunches, huh?” he asked. “A bunch of he said/she said drama. So what happened? You steal his calculator or something?”

  “Hilarious, Toff.” I tossed a raisin at him and he almost caught it in his mouth. “No. This was a real fight.” I sighed and my gaze drifted across the courtyard.

  Dallas sat at a table with Kylie and her friends, but he was staring directly at me. I met his gaze and held it. Toff threw a potato chip at me. “Dude. You’re like a dog in heat.”

  My face flushed. “You’re gross, Toff.”

  “But accurate,” he said.

  Jaz and Amy giggled while I glared at them. I turned to Claire. “We never dated. We just worked together.”

  She frowned. “Oh. But it always seemed like…” Her voice trailed away and she shrugged.

  Jaz rolled her eyes. “They totally want to. But they’re the most stubborn people on the planet.”

  “Truth,” Toff said as he opened another bag of chips. He was like a human garbage disposal. “So is anyone going to tell me what happened? Or do I have to find a translator who speaks girl?”

  “Dallas had to fix something on the store computer last night,” Amy said. I watched her maintain eye contact with Toff. I knew it was hard for her, but she did it. “Then he and Viv got into a fight about kissing and—”

  Toff glanced at me and raised an eyebrow, then turned back to Amy. “Go on.”

  “Well, they argued because right after he kissed her, he started dating Kylie.”

  “Seriously?” He looked surprised. Maybe Dallas hadn’t told him about our kiss. Unlike Jake, Dallas wasn’t spreading any rumors about me. Toff glanced over his shoulder toward Dallas. “So I have to beat his ass, too? I thought I just needed to hurt Jake.”

  I closed my eyes in frustration. “It’s not like that. I told you…” my voice cracked. I gave him a pleading look. “Remember how I told you I blew my chance with him?”

  I felt Jaz, Amy, and Claire staring at me. I hadn’t told them about my beach chat with Toff.

  Toff sighed and stuffed more chips in his mouth, chewing slowly. I shook my head, sending him silent messages not to do or say anything to Dallas.

  “What’s going on?” Jaz asked. “Are you guys like reading each other’s minds or something?”

  Toff’s lips narrowed, the stubborn tilt to his jaw making me wonder if he was going to seek out Dallas as soon as lunch was over. But then his expression softened and he encompassed everyone with his easy grin. “Wow. And you think guys are hard to understand? You bitches are psycho.”

  We all laughed but Amy swatted him on the arm. “Don’t call us that.”

  “Bitches or psycho?” He leered at her and she blushed. He turned back to me. “So you fought about all this last night? Just decided to harass the poor guy while he was fixing your computer?”

  I shot a glance in Dallas’s direction, but he wasn’t at the table.

  “Just forget it,” I said, giving Toff my strongest warning glare. “It doesn’t matter. I’m never dating anyone ever again. And I’m definitely never kissing anyone ever again.”

  Everyone stared at me, then broke into peals of laughter.

  “What?” I protested. “You think I’m kidding? Trust me, from now on these lips are totally celibate.”

  Everyone laughed, but I knew it was true because if I couldn’t kiss Dallas, I wasn’t kissing
anyone.

  “Insults are effective only where emotion is present.”

  —Spock

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Wednesday, October 15

  Jaz and I raced down the hallway, running late after spending longer than usual at the lookout site. Today I agreed with her; it was definitely Fisk jogging along the beach. I’d even signed her log, wishing I could tell her why I recognized him so easily.

  I skidded to a stop at my locker, focused on the combination lock, until I noticed Jaz frozen like a statue.

  “What?” I frowned at her, then followed her gaze to the top of my locker.

  SLUT gleamed down in angry black ink. I stopped breathing, reaching out to the wall of lockers for support.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jaz whispered.

  I gaped at the word, wondering who did it.

  “Jake,” growled Jaz. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “Oh.” My breath whooshed out of me. Of course it was Jake. “But we can’t prove it.”

  Jaz rolled her eyes. “Who else would do it? Motive and opportunity, just ask your mom.”

  One of the security guards stalked toward us, his expression grim.

  Jaz pointed to my locker when he stopped next to us. “Did you see this?”

  He nodded, scowling. “That’s the second one today.”

  “The other one is Claire’s locker, right?” asked Jaz.

  The grooves in his scowl deepened. “Sounds like you know who did this.”

  “Not for sure,” I said, shooting a warning glare at Jaz, remembering the pain as he twisted my wrist.

  “To the principal’s office, ladies. Now.”

  ...

  Before Dr. Blake released us, she assured us she’d look into Jake’s possible involvement. She also said the custodial staff would try to remove the slur but might not be able to right away.

  “You can cover it up with something in the meantime. We have some posters lying around the office if you want. Just don’t try to retaliate with Mr. Fontaine’s locker. That’s not how students at our academy respond.”