Rival Love

by Natalie Decker

  Rival Love

  Natalie Decker

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2014 by Natalie Decker

  RIVAL LOVE by Natalie Decker

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Swoon Romance. Swoon Romance and its related logo are registered trademarks of Georgia McBride Media Group, LLC.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Published by Swoon Romance

  Cover designed by Earthly Charms

  To all those whoever felt lost.

  Ethan and Leeah, without you I wouldn’t be me.

  Rival Love

  Natalie Decker

  Chapter 1

  Skylar

  God, I hope no one sees me. Exhaling for what feels like the umpteenth time since we pulled up to Brian Timmons’s house, I quickly glance left then right. Perspiration beads on my forehead and at the nape of my neck as I open the door to my mother’s Honda Accord. She waits for me to bound up to the porch like an obedient child, but there are some things that demand stubbornness. This just happens to be one of them.

  Out of all the ridiculous and inexcusable things for her to do to me, she did the absolute worst. She moved us to Bob–freaking–cat territory! Um, hello, I’m a Harris Academy Bulldog and super proud of it! These veins bleed orange and black. Not brown and yellow—the worst colors in the history of mankind. It’s a constant reminder of what happens in a bathroom: number one and number two. Eww, so not cute.

  “Liv, sweetie, come on,” Mom calls from the porch. I will never understand her need to call me by my middle name instead of my first. I, unlike some people, love my first name. But that’s my mother for you.

  I wince. “Keep your voice down. Someone might hear you.” Doesn’t she have any clue how dangerous it is for me to even be on the enemies’ turf like this? Apparently not, because now she’s making her way across the lawn and back to her car to retrieve me as if I’m five, not seventeen. I dodge her before she reaches me, rush up to the house, and slip inside.

  Don’t get me wrong, Brian’s cool, but this move destroyed everything I’ve worked my butt off for. My captain position on the swim team…gone. My chance to take the softball team to state and to stroke that huge silver trophy? Yeah, not happening now. Thanks, Fate, Cupid, and whoever else is responsible for ruining my senior year. And my life, while we’re at it.

  Fear and anger washes over me as I make my way through the foyer. Brian steps out of the room on the left and wraps his lanky arms around me. I cringe. Why do adults try to hug you at all the wrong moments in life? I don’t want, nor do I need, a hug. “I’m so happy you’re here.” I bite back my own retort to those words. “I know this is a big change for you.”

  Big change? That’s the understatement of the year. Next Monday my mother will be getting a phone call saying I was brutally murdered. And the sad part is the person who committed the crime will probably get a parade thrown in their honor. Yes, the school rivalry is not what you’d call a typical one: toss some toilet paper in the trees, egg a house, or throw some tomatoes at all the cars in the parking lots. It’s busting lips, putting people in the hospital, and really laying it all out. Think Ohio State vs. Michigan and you’ve totally got it. Tipping over cars, setting couches on fire on your neighbors’ lawn. Yeah, we’re that kind of crazy rivalry.

  Brian clears his throat. “Well, Skylar, this is going to be great, you’ll see.” It’s almost cute how he makes it sound like we’re going to the North Pole to see Santa. I stopped believing in things like the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, and all that jazz when I was six. So I’m not putting all my eggs in his basket. “Your mother has been trying to get you to come down and see the place, but I guess our schedules clashed.” More like I wasn’t stupid enough to set foot on this side of town with just my mother as backup.

  The door behind me pops open. My mother carries in two large bags, her eyes narrowing at me and then down at the bags with the are-you-going-to-help look. I glare right back. I refuse to be any part of this monstrosity.

  “Hey, honey.” Brian moves around me and plants one right on my mother. He takes the bags from her and she smiles. “I was just telling Skylar how great it is to have the two of you here.”

  Silence prods us for a moment. Brian shuffles past me with the bags and says, “How about a tour, Skylar?”

  Can this nightmare finally end? I don’t say this in front of my mother, I’ve already made her agitated enough on the car ride down here.

  Brian leads us into the large room off to the left. Sage walls with white trim are before me. “This is the living room,” he announces. I want to tell him I think Martha Stewart broke into his house and puked her taste all over this room. Fake plants adorn the corners of the entryways and vintage lamps rest on the end tables. I can feel myself cringing at the thought that the bedroom I’m supposed to stay in probably looks something like this room. Just replace the couch and coffee table with a bed. And if that’s the case, I’m sleeping in my car.

  The slam of a door pulls the attention of everyone in the room. “That’s probably Caleb,” Brian says then turns to the hallway. “Go ahead and show her the rest of the house, Erin, I’ll be right back.”

  The elusive Caleb. He saw our old house as much as I saw Brian’s before now…which was never. My curiosity pulls at me to go see who this Caleb guy is when my mother nudges me. “What do you think so far? I helped Brian redecorate this room.”

  Posing a fake smile, I say, “It looks fine.”

  She frowns. “What’s wrong?”

  “You know what’s wrong. I’ve told you about a million times, but you didn’t listen then and you aren’t going to hear me now. So what’s the point of wasting my breath?”

  “I know you don’t like this. I know you feel like I’ve sprung this on you. But I’m really happy, Liv. Brian and I really love each other.” A blush forms across her cheeks. “Honey, he could really be the one. You know? He’s sweet like your father used to be. He listens—something your father hardly ever did.”

  Uck! I don’t want to hear this! Rolling my eyes, I let out a sigh and dig in my pockets for my iPhone. My parents have been divorced for like a zillion years—okay, not really, but it’s been a long time. And yet she compares every guy she meets with my dad, from perks and quirks, right down to the flaws.

  I start a game of Tetris, tuning her out, when a slap and then a burst of pain fills my arm. “Oww!”

  “Are you evening listening to me?”

  “Yeah sure.”

  “What did I say then?”

  I shrug. “Be nice.”

  She huffs. “Close enough. I said try to be nice and open to this new adventure.”

  I’ve had my fill of this adventure. In fact, I want off this ride. Folding my arms near my chest, I give her my thoughts. “You want me to be nice? What about what I want?” I sound like a whiney brat, but really she gave me no options. She didn’t ask me what I thought about this, she just did it. “You want me to be open to this so-called new adventure of getting my face mangled on the first day of school, and probably death shortly after? Sure, why not? You win mother. I’m so happy you moved us to Bobcat territory. Oh, thank you for destroying the future I worked so hard for. I’m so glad it was a
ll in the name of love.”

  “Cut the sarcasm. You’ve been harping over this thing for weeks, Skylar.” Okay, my mother only uses my first name when she’s mad at me. “Give it a rest. I’m so sick of hearing how you won’t have any friends. How this move is screwing up your life. Everyone will torture you because of who you are, and I basically sentenced you to an early grave.” She shakes her head. “Stop being so melodramatic. It’s just a little school rivalry. Every school has them. Besides, Brian’s a teacher at the school, no one will pick on you.”

  She’s joking. She doesn’t honestly believe the crap she’s saying, does she? I throw up my hands and laugh. “Oh. My. God. You’re crazy! You realize moving me here screwed my chances of playing sports, which would help me get out of this town!”

  She gives me a look—she’s officially annoyed—and sighs. “You know what, Skylar? Then don’t play any sports this year. Okay?”

  My eyes widen. This isn’t okay. Nothing about this is okay! I need my sports to get a full ride so I don’t have to follow the plan my father has set out for me. Why is she so against me right now?

  The doorbell rings. I’m about to scream at my mother when I hear: “Screw you, Caleb Morgan! Sorry, Mr. Timmons.”

  My eyes expand. Morgan? Why do I know that name? My mother makes her way toward the commotion. I stifle back a remark and wander off into the other rooms of the house. A loud snapping sound pulls my focus from a set of mahogany chairs and table, to a black and white kitchen. Taking a seat on one of the barstools is a tall, cute guy with shaggy, dark brown hair. I watch a bottle of water shift from one hand to the other. Why am I staring at him? I don’t know why, and for some reason can’t stop. Black cords string from his ears down to a small iPod secured to his left bicep. He unscrews the cap and starts to take a drink from the bottle. All at once, it hits me: I’m staring at the all-star Bobcat quarterback. Caleb Morgan. My life just became a whole lot worse.

  “Liv!” my mother calls.

  I flinch and glance back at the dining room. My mother continues to yell my name but I don’t answer. Facing the boy again, his green eyes lock with mine, and I stand there frozen and say nothing.

  His eyes trail up and down my body. “Well, well, well. A freaking Bulldog is in my house. Hell must’ve frozen over,” Caleb says.

  I glare at him. “I was just leaving.”

  “Uh-huh. Guess I could give you some parting wisdom before you go.” He stands and makes his way to me. “Changing your name to Liv isn’t going to save you from getting your assed kicked in school. You do know that, right, Skylar?” The way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine. His face cringes a little when my mother’s voice carries into the kitchen.

  I flip him the bird. “That’s what I think about your parting wisdom. And FYI, I’m not changing my name, that’s just what my mother calls me, moron!”

  I turn on my heels and my mother enters the room with Brian in tow. Damn. “Oh, there you are. I wanted you to see…oh…” She looks past me and smiles. “Hi, Caleb. I’m glad you two have met then. See, Liv, you already know someone. It’s not going to be so bad.”

  She has no idea. Not a freaking clue. I want her to stop talking now. Why won’t she stop talking? “I’m so glad someone Liv’s age will be around to help her get adjusted to the school.”

  “My pleasure. I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to get my run in.” My mother is oblivious to the sarcasm lacing his words, but I notice.

  Brian blocks the exit to the back door. “Hold up. I need your help with their bags and we need to talk about the Danielle Samson episode on my front porch.”

  I smirk as Caleb’s face slowly changes from a smile to a frown.

  Ha. Stupid Bobcat! “Fine,” Caleb grumbles. They make their way past my mother and I. My mother gets a peck on the lips from Brian, and I get a snort from Caleb.

  As soon as the boys leave, my mother squeals, “What do you think?”

  “I think this place sucks. Are we done pretending yet? If we leave now, I might be able to get my life back.”

  My comments bring her down from her glowing high. “Skylar, I’m happy. This is our home now. As soon as you start accepting that the better off things will be for the both of us.”

  “I’m a Bulldog, Mother! This isn’t my home. I’m far from it.”

  Chapter 2

  Caleb

  The scraping of a fork across a dinner plate is all I hear at the moment. Scrap-scrap-scrap. If this is how dinner is going to be every night, I’m eating in my room. I grit my teeth as the fork slides across the plate causing a loud, drawn-out scra-a-a-a-p-p sound filling my ears and sending me over the edge. “For the love of it! Eat something or just say you’re done and be done. Quit moving your food to the center of the plate and then back to the edges. My ears can’t take any more!”

  Skylar looks up with wide eyes. A strange, almost burnt-colored orange locks with my eyes for a moment then she drops them back to her lap. “May I be excused?” she mumbles.

  “Liv, you haven’t even eaten anything.” Erin sighs.

  She glares at Erin, throwing her napkin down at the plate, and scoots from the table. “I’m sorry, Mother, I must have left my appetite back at our house. The place strangers are currently moving into.”

  “Knock it off.”

  I should stop staring at the two of them arguing but I can’t. My uncle coughs. “Isn’t this the best pot roast you ever had Caleb?”

  I blink and look over at my uncle Brian then back at Skylar. Her mouth hangs open for a minute then she pushes her chair back under the table. “Brian, as always, it’s been fun.” She turns to Erin. “Mother, I’m sure dinner was great but I’m not hungry and sitting here until everyone else finishes is not only boring me, but it’s disturbing Caleb. So, I’m going to do everyone a favor and go to my room.”

  “Liv…” The brat has already walked out of the room, taking her plate with her. My uncle narrows his eyes at me.

  I shrug. “What?”

  “You know what,” he says in a clipped tone.

  “Come on. She was playing with her food.” Erin starts to pull herself away from the table. My uncle shoots me another look and I hold back my annoyance. “Fine. I’ll go apologize.”

  Uncle Bri smiles and Erin does the same. When did I lose my man card, and for that matter, when the hell did my uncle lose his? ‘Cause before he met Erin, he was all about the love ‘em and ditch ‘em in a month. Then he met Erin around April. It was during one of my baseball games, Sky had one before mine. I never dreamed my uncle would get serious with her mom. One thing lead to another and our walls went from plain white to some kind of Better Homes and Gardens display. Yeah, someone upstairs has really got it in for me.

  Going up the stairs two by two, I try to think of what to say. Nothing is coming to mind. Hell, how will I even explain this to my friends? If they find out who moved in, they’ll rip me a new one. She shouldn’t be here! That’s what I’m going to say: you don’t belong here so get the hell out.

  Right outside her door, a dark shadow blurs past the small opening. I don’t bother knocking. Placing a hand on the grain, I push it open. The girl isn’t on her bed, near her desk, or digging in one of the many cardboard boxes I had to haul up to her room. Nope. She’s sitting on the window seat with her back facing me. I hear her sniffle. “Over? Over. Can this day get any worse?”

  Aw damn. I can’t be a total dick to a sobbing chick, no matter who it is. “Hey,” I say.

  She turns with her left hand swiping tears from her eyes. “What do you want?”

  Forget it. If she’s going to be all snappy, then it’s game on. “Look, bitch.” Her eyes widen and I shrug. “It’s what they call female dogs isn’t it?”

  “Har. Har. Come up with that one on your own did you? So effing original.”

  “Whatever!” Punk-ass know-it-all. Most irritating chick I’ve ever had to talk to by far. “Look, I don’t want you here. You don’t want to be here. We totally
understand each other on this point. But if you’re going to fake eating because you’ve got, I don’t know some damn problem with food, I suggest using some plastic forks and plates.” I start to turn toward her door and then raise a finger. “Oh, and another thing, on Monday, don’t you even think about running to me for help. If the entire student body attacks you, that’s your problem not mine. Got me?”

  “Trust me, I wouldn’t ask you for help if you were the last person alive! Now get the hell out of my room.”

  “If I were you I wouldn’t bother unpacking these.”

  She shoots me a look. “Are you done lecturing me?”

  I throw up my hands. “Almost. I promised Erin I’d show you around school in the morning. So, be ready at eight o’clock. I’ve got things to do.”

  She laughs. “Oh, are you scouting for some receivers that can actually catch the ball?”

  I shake my head. “Yeah, right after I give your team a real playbook, maybe then you can play some challenging teams.”

  “You think you’re so great don’t you, Bobcat? Well, you’re not! I could outplay you in any sport.”

  I step closer to her. My eyes roam her body, noting her tight curves and small chest. “You better watch it, Bulldog. This is my territory.”

  Chapter 3

  Skylar

  Since two in the morning, I’ve stared at this black screen. Waiting. No, hoping it would light up with a familiar name along with that buzzing sensation against my palm. I can’t remember the last time my cell has been so dead in my hands. My best friends since kindergarten, Sam and Mikia, haven’t talked to me since Tuesday afternoon when they helped me pack up my last box for this disastrous move. Three days. It feels like a lifetime. Why are they not calling me?

  Twelve flipping years we’ve been friends. That’s like a solid friendship. Diamond quality. Unbreakable. Right?