On some level—like deep, deep, deep down—I get that it’s probably a good thing. If a great guy came around who wanted me to be his girlfriend, I’d be all for it. And it’s sweet that the guys supposedly think I deserve a relationship, whatever that means. But really, what I hear Brandon saying is that they all think I’m boring. Unattractive. Not worth the effort.
Casuals are obviously the confident, exciting, sexy ones. The kind of girl I wish I was.
Brandon plucks his thumb over my pursed lips. “You’re disappointed in me?”
“No, not in you.” At his confused look, I explain, feeling the heat of blood rush to my face. “Honestly? I’m annoyed with myself! I know you probably think being in the Commitment group is some sort of compliment—”
“It really is—”
“—but all I hear is that the Casual group is the fun group. The hot group. The group that guys actually like!” I take a breath and lower my voice. “The type of person I want to be seen as for once.”
“Aly, you’re totally missing the point. The group thing is stupid. It’s just a thing we did one night that took on a life of its own. But it’s not real.” Brandon’s quiet for a beat, then he shifts his weight, adding, “And Aly, hotness had nothing to do with what group you were put in.”
I roll my eyes, not believing that line of bull for a second, and mentally run down the list of senior girls. The Casuals are easy to spot. Girls like Lauren Hays and even Kara. The girls who not only invented the social order at Fairfield Academy but control it. The ones who will look back at high school and not see a wall of just-a-friend dates and a solitary ex-boyfriend, but a long list of flirtations and adventures. The confident girls. Cheerleaders, dance team members, maybe even a few of the jocks.
Just not competitive volleyball players like me.
“You okay?” Brandon cups my shoulder and shakes me a little. “Aly, I promise you, the group thing is fucked up, but you being a Commitment is a good thing. Really.”
I absently nod in response as a new dimension to Operation Sex Appeal comes into focus. Thanks to my lunchtime run-in with Lauren, I know an external makeover isn’t going to be enough. If I want to get out of the perpetual friend zone and experience how the other half lives, I’m going to need a total life overhaul. I have to get the guys to see me differently, as someone confident, exciting…Casual.
But I’ll need proof.
The last piece of the puzzle arrives in the form of a handsome face. The holy grail of my quest. The only guy at Fairfield Academy more popular than Brandon, and by far the biggest player. If I can get him to be interested in me and ask me to Homecoming, I’ll know for sure I’ve successfully crossed over into the land of the Casuals—and break the curse of my Wall of Shame.
A slow smile creeps up my face. I may not have figured out all the ins and outs yet, but Operation Sex Appeal definitely just got a new finish line. It started with a new wardrobe, and it will end with Justin Carter.
BRANDON
ALY’S HOUSE, 7:05 p.m.
As Aly and I walk down the narrow sidewalk to my truck, I watch her from the corner of my eye. She’s still wearing that secret pouty smile of hers, the one that says she’s up to something. It always makes me nervous. For the last hour, she’s been distracted and quiet, which on a normal day is bad enough, but when the topic is volleyball, it’s downright scary.
Obviously, telling her about the groups wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had. But I had to. When she looked up at me with those watery blue eyes, I had to try to fix it. If I could, I’d make it so Aly never frowned again.
She stops at the passenger door, and I step in front to give her a boost. The six-inch lift kit and Super Swamper tires on my F-150 may be necessary for mud riding, but they make it impossible for her to get in by herself. The girl is short. Even with the ridiculous new shoes she’s sporting.
Wrapping my hands around her tiny waist, I lift her up and catch a whiff of the familiar sugar-cookie scent clinging to her skin. She scoots across the leather seat, and I watch her black skirt ride up her toned thigh.
I don’t know where to look. Or how not to look. Walking into her room earlier, I literally did one of those stupid double takes you see on TV. I’m used to Aly lounging around in baggy clothes and messy ponytails with her only makeup being ChapStick. That Aly I know how to act around. But this one in a short skirt and tight top showing off an impressive rack? This Aly is seriously messing with my head.
I clear my throat and look away from her bare legs. “If you’re aiming for attention, that skirt’s a good first step to getting what you want.”
Her white teeth sink into her bottom lip, and she glances down. “Is it overkill? Too sexy?”
The way she says it, and even just hearing the word come out of her mouth, is just too weird. Smiling at her familiar bout of discomfort, I chuckle and say, “Nah, you’re fine.”
I shoot her a wink and close the door, unable to stop myself from laughing as I round the hood. The new clothes threw me, but the overthinking, constantly worrying girl in my truck is definitely the Aly I know.
My amusement dies when I yank open the door and Aly nails me with a glare. “People could find me sexy, y’know. Obviously no one we know, but it’s not that outrageous a concept.” Crossing her arms, she sinks lower in her seat, and I cough into my fist to keep from laughing again. She’s so damn cute. The scowl on her face is so out of place that it’s like being annoyed with a grumpy kitten. I like hanging out with Aly for a lot of reasons, but her laid-back attitude is definitely at the top of the list. She’s fun and drama-free. When I’m not accidently offending her, that is.
Revving the engine, I glance over and say, “Aly, of course you can be sexy.” Exhibit A: those legs. “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t think of you like that.”
Or at least I didn’t until you wore that skirt.
She makes a sound that’s a cross between a groan and a sigh and shakes her head. “Exactly, and that’s why I’m doing this.”
I stop with my hand on the shifter.
Seeing the look on my face, Aly throws her head back against the seat. “That came out wrong. It’s not because you don’t think of me that way. It’s that none of the guys at school do.”
I reverse out of the driveway, hoping she’ll elaborate, and she twists toward me, tucking her legs under herself. “See, once I had my epiphany about the Wall of Shame, I got this idea. You’re probably going to say it’s stupid, but whatever. I’m just tired of being invisible, Brandon. Of guys always seeing me as a friend. This is senior year. My last shot. If I want the male species to finally find me dateable, I have to do something drastic.”
“Drastic?” I ask, waving my hand in her direction. “As in letting Kara turn you into her own life-size Barbie doll?”
Aly playfully bats my arm but nods. “Yeah. I’m calling it Operation Sex Appeal.”
I cough and look over.
Oh, she’s serious. Okay.
“And you telling me about that chauvinistic ranking system sealed the deal,” she continues. “Guys see me as a Commitment. I’m too much work, too serious. For once, I want to see what it’s like to be a Casual.”
Aly bites her lip in excitement, and I groan. Yep, she totally missed the point. She was supposed to see that her lack of exes isn’t a bad thing. It boils down to respect. Some guys know she deserves more effort than they are willing to give.
But clearly, my confession in her room only made things worse.
Time for damage control. “So does this mission of yours have an end goal?” I have a feeling that it involves more than just a wardrobe change, and I tighten my grip on the wheel. I can’t help feeling protective of Aly. We practically grew up together. And with a name like Operation Sex Appeal, I can imagine the kind of guys she’ll attract. But Aly’s smart. I’m sure she’s not planning anything too crazy to become this other person.
“Well,” she says, scrunching her nose. “Before, it was getting a
new look and a new guy by Homecoming. But now, I’m thinking the only way to show I’ve really changed is for that guy to be Justin.”
My foot hits the brake, and I swerve to avoid hitting the curb. Waving a hand at the pissed-off driver behind me, I shake my head and clutch the wheel with both fists. “Aly, you can do a hell of a lot better than Justin.”
Her voice pitches in confusion. “But I thought Justin was your friend.”
“He is.” I take a breath and change lanes. “Which is how I know you can do a lot better.”
For some reason, Aly seems surprised, but I have no idea why. She’s seen the girls Justin usually dates. There’s not a chance in hell she can get involved with him and not get her heart broken. And then I’ll have to break something on him.
No way. I have to get her focused on someone else.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she says, trying to pull down her skirt. With all her fidgeting, it’s ridden up even higher on her tanned thighs. If she keeps dressing like this, she’ll get more than Justin’s attention. “I realized the clothes aren’t going to be enough. Unless I can get everyone to take my transformation seriously, I’m destined to stay invisible and single for the rest of my life. I have to get people to start seeing me differently…”
Aly’s voice trails off, and her body stills. She tilts her head to stare at me, and from the prickle on my neck, that can’t be a good sign. I catch her eye before looking back out at the road. “What?”
She opens her mouth and closes it. Several times. Then she shakes her head and says, “Nothing. It’s stupid.” After only a few seconds, she continues. “It’s what I said about getting people to see me differently. It reminded me of all those dumb Hollywood movies—you know, where the makeover actually works? But in those movies, it normally takes that one popular guy asking the girl out for the rest of the school to realize how awesome she truly is.”
My eyes cut to her, but she’s staring straight ahead. She leans forward and adjusts the air-conditioning vent, refusing to look back in my direction. “I was just thinking, hypothetically, that if you pretended to hook up with me—just pretended—and helped sell the whole Casual thing, that the guys would be more likely to buy it. And then maybe they’ll find me dateable, too.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she hides her face in her hands. “God, that sounds stupid. It was like I could hear how it sounded out loud and, just…Never mind. Forget I said anything. I’m a dork, and it’s stricken from the record, okay?”
Aly squirms in the seat beside me, fidgeting with her fingers, her hair, her skirt, and the neckline of her top. I keep glancing back, hoping she’ll turn toward me so I can see her face, but she’s looking anywhere but in my direction.
I’ve seen the dumb movies she’s talking about, mostly with her when it was her turn to pick. They’re dumb because the plots are completely bogus, just like her idea. But I know Aly. She honestly thinks her crazy idea could work. And, though she’ll never admit it now, she was completely serious.
Aly is on a mission, and I know from experience she won’t stop until she gets what she wants. Her fierce determination is what I admire most about her. She’s convinced she wants to be a Casual, and nothing I say will change her mind. Hell, I’m the one who put the idea there to begin with. But maybe if I step in and join her in the crazy, it’ll keep wolves like Justin away.
“What, exactly, would the pretending involve?” I ask.
Her head snaps up, and her jaw drops. “Um, I—I guess it wouldn’t be much different than what we do now. We’d just call it something else. Maybe add holding hands in public or something?”
I park in front of Carmela’s and turn off the engine. She’s probably right. Even when I’m going out with someone, I normally see Aly more than the other girl anyway. People always get the wrong idea about us or assume we’re hooking up on the side, so it won’t take much to get them to believe we’re together for real. And with the camping trip starting tomorrow, it’ll be easy to spread it around quickly.
Shit, the camping trip.
I scrub a hand over my face, picturing a Lauren-sized shadow for four days.
“See, it’s stupid, right?” Aly says, her cheeks pink with a blush. “Forget I said anything.” She yanks off her seatbelt and throws open the door. I put my hand on her arm to stop her.
“Actually I was thinking it might be nice not to worry about girls for a while.”
Her blue eyes flare with hope, and I jump out from my side of the truck. I’m not ready to say yes to her crazy-ass scheme yet, but I’m close. I round the hood, and as I help Aly down, I can practically hear the wheels turning in her head. The door to the restaurant opens, and the familiar sound of the mariachi band wafts outside. One of the guys leaving stops to check Aly out, hungry eyes devouring her legs, and she steps back, stumbles in the new shoes, and latches onto my arm.
There’s no way I can let her do this alone.
Why can’t she see what I do? She’s a Commitment girl, and that’s not a bad thing. I just need to help her realize it. I throw the guy a look to back off and pull her back to my truck.
“Look, if you’re serious and you really think this’ll help you get what you want, I’ll do it. We can start telling people tomorrow that we’re hooking up.”
Her mouth opens in shock. I reach out and gently close it.
Aly blinks and shakes her head as if to clear it. “On your word?”
On your word is an expression Aly started using years ago. She normally uses it whenever she knows something is bothering me and I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve never used it because Aly always tells me exactly what’s on her mind. Even when I’d rather she didn’t.
“On my word,” I promise, stooping down to look her in the eyes. “If this is important to you, then count me in.” I squeeze her hand and tease, “But when this plan of yours works and you have guys crawling all over you, you better not forget about me, all right?”
Aly laughs and jumps up, throwing her arms around my neck. She kisses my cheek, and the scent of sugar cookies fills my head.
“Holy cannoli! Brandon, you’re amazing!” She hops down, wobbles, and beams up at me. “And it won’t be for long, I promise. After people buy it and stop seeing me as a Commitment, we’ll just say we’re better off as friends and go back to regularly scheduled programming. Except I’ll be the new confident, Casual Aly.” Her smile widens as she waggles her eyebrows. “And I’ll have Justin Carter to prove it.”
My playful smile drops.
Yeah, that’s not happening.
MONDAY, AUGUST 9TH
7 weeks and 5 days until Homecoming
BRANDON
CYPRESS LAKE CAMPGROUND, 2:00 p.m.
I open the passenger door and look out at Cypress Lake. The slope of the parking lot gives a clear shot of the water behind the campground, mocking me as I stand on the steaming gravel road. Inhaling a humid breath, I glance at the four large cabins overlooking the lake.
They better as hell be air-conditioned.
Drew meets me at the back of the truck and pulls down the tailgate. He tosses me a Dr. Pepper from the cooler and then takes one for himself.
“Saying goodbye to Sarah was rough.” He takes a long pull off his drink and nods as Adam parks next to us. “Her apartment’s nice, though. And it only took me two hours to get to your house, so there’s that.” He laughs sarcastically and turns back to people-watch.
This is why I don’t do relationships. Then I remind myself of what I agreed to last night.
A quick survey of the lot doesn’t show Kara’s car. Putting off telling him about the pseudo-hookup a little longer, I say, “It’s only a year, man. You’ll be with her at UT in no time.”
“I know. It just sucks. But it’s not like I didn’t know this was coming or anything.” Drew drags a hand across his face and groans. “Get my mind off it,” he says. “Any chance I missed something crazy in the last forty-eight hours?”
And there’s my opening.
Dammit.
I glance at Adam leaned back in his parked car. “Actually, yeah. You could say that.” Drew’s body shifts forward as I take a stalling sip of soda. “Aly and I…” I snap the pop-top from my can and pitch it. “We’re sorta dating now.”
“Wait.” His eyes bug out, and he shakes his head as if it’s defective. “Did you just say Aly?”
I nod, and the audible gasp from his direction is pretty much the reaction I expected. Guilt hits me like a punch to the gut. Honesty is important to me. Girls always know the score, and friends know where they stand. I don’t have time for lies or liars. But loyalty matters more. If anyone finds out this hookup with Aly isn’t real, she’ll be embarrassed.
And I refuse to let Aly get hurt.
“We went out last night,” I explain. I start drumming a beat on my legs to give my hands something to do. “We got to talking…and decided to try going out.” I realize the drumming is making me look nervous so I stop. “Just see where it goes and have fun, y’know? No commitment or anything.”
My skills in lying suck ass. It’s a good thing I never do it. There’s not a chance in hell Drew, one of my best friends who knows me better than anyone except for Aly, bought any of that. I glance over and wince at the look of pure stupefaction on his face.
“You’re serious?” he asks.
“Yep,” I say, popping my lips around the word. An eternity seems to pass. It’s probably more like thirty seconds. Dust from the gravel road flies in the air from arriving cars, and I count the sounds of slamming doors. I watch Aly’s ex sitting in his car and wonder if he’s been listening. I steal another look at Drew and brace myself for the call-out.
What he says is, “It’s about damn time.”
My body goes still, then I jerk my head around, sure I heard him wrong. “Huh?”
Drew pushes to his feet, suddenly all smiles. “Dude, Aly’s perfect for you. Call it casual all you want, but the two of you have been in denial for like three years now. Sarah and I had a bet on how long it would take you to wake up, and it looks like I just won.” He shoves my shoulder. “I still feel like shit, but I’m happy for you, man. It’s about time you got your head out of your ass.”
The Fine Art of Pretending Page 3