Playing the Enemy
The Trouble With Tomboys #1
Maggie Dallen
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Playing to Win
About the Author
Prologue
Two years ago . . .
One three-week summer sports camp shouldn’t have spawned such a tight-knit friendship—but it did. Camp Haversham in Upstate New York was where Hannah, Jordan, and Alex met during the summer before their freshman year. Like most of the young athletes who’d flocked to the training camp, they hailed from different towns and schools. They might never have met if it hadn’t been for Camp Haversham, and they definitely wouldn’t have formed their little “Tomboy Trio” if it hadn’t been for one brainless moron by the name of Noah Ackerbaum.
Noah and his crew were an obnoxious group of alphaholes who paraded around the grounds like they owned the place. Were they skilled at their respective sports? Yes. No one would deny that.
But these girls were better.
Noah and his minions were nice to the girls at the camp—particularly the hot girls—but for the most part, boys played boys and girls played girls.
Until they didn’t.
That was Alex’s fault. A phenom with the bat, the daughter of a professional baseball player hadn’t loved the idea of being segregated. She wanted to play the best—whatever gender that might be.
After Jordan kicked Noah’s butt in touch football, and Hannah took him down in soccer, it was Alex who decided they ought to have a soccer scrimmage that was boys versus girls. Noah begrudgingly agreed. From the way he’d talked it was like they were still in elementary school and kids actually used phrases like “you throw like a girl” as if that were a bad thing.
Lame.
Led by the three top female athletes at camp, the girls’ team totally trounced the boys’ team in a humiliating defeat.
Well, it probably wouldn’t have been quite so humiliating if the losers hadn’t been such poor sports about it.
Hannah was putting away her equipment when Noah entered the gymnasium behind her. “We let you win, you know that, right?”
She straightened, her dark brown ponytail swinging over her shoulder as she turned to face Noah. Two of his friends had come up behind him and were snickering—a dead giveaway that Noah was going into full bully mode.
Anyone who’d ever seen any movie set in a high school knew how to spot a bully a mile away, and Noah fit the part to a tee. Tall and handsome, he might have been charming if he had any sense of humility or dignity. As it was, he was petty and crass, his sense of humor having peaked at pranks and poop jokes.
“Excuse me?” Hannah said politely. She wasn’t afraid of these guys, but she wouldn’t deny that she was relieved to see her new friends trailing in behind Noah and his gang.
“What’s going on here?” Alex asked. The tall, lean brunette stepped between Hannah and the boys, her shoulders back as her chin held high.
Jordan looked between Noah and the other girls warily before hurrying over to stand on Hannah’s other side. “You okay?” she asked Hannah under her breath. The blonde was pretty in a very girlie sort of way, almost . . . dainty. One would never guess that she rocked it in the hockey rink.
“I’m fine,” Hannah said, not bothering to lower her voice. She waved a hand toward the guys. “Noah here was just about to explain how they let us win.” She couldn’t quite hide the amusement in her voice . . . and truth be told, she didn’t really try.
Alex gave a little huff of amusement as well. “Oh yeah? This ought to be good.”
“You’re girls,” Noah said.
“Way to state the obvious,” Alex replied.
“We’d get in trouble if we hurt you,” one of the guys behind Noah added.
“Oh, I see,” Hannah said. “So that’s why you lost. You were being chivalrous and trying not to hurt us.”
Even Jordan was laughing now, the idea so ludicrous. They’d all been out there on that field. No one had played dirtier than Noah.
“Really?” Alex said. “Is that what you think happened?”
Noah held his hands up, his head falling to the side with smarmy smirk that made the girls’ skin crawl. “Hey, you guys go ahead and celebrate your little victory. But I thought you should know the truth.”
“Uh huh,” Hannah said. “And what truth is that? That we wiped the field with your butts?”
Alex snickered. “Or that you got beat by a bunch of girls?”
Noah’s nostrils flared and his friends exchanged looks. “You know the trouble with tomboys?”
“No, please tell us,” Alex said in a flat tone that made Hannah and Jordan snort with laughter.
“You’re a bunch of freaks,” he said. “Good luck finding a guy to date you.”
Eye rolls all around.
“Thanks for the advice,” Alex said. “But if you’re referring to guys like you then I think I can speak for my friends here when I say we’re better off single.”
Noah huffed. “You couldn’t get a date if your life depended on it.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” Hannah said, her eyes narrowed as if giving it some serious thought. “I’ll have to ask my boyfriend what he thinks about that.”
Noah looked disgusted by their amusement, but at least he and his friends were backing away. He sneered at Hannah. “As if we’d believe any guy would be into that. You look like my little brother.”
Hannah didn’t seem to mind the insult, but Jordan stiffened at her side.
Alex narrowed her eyes on him. “Get out of here, losers.”
Noah scoffed as he turned to go. “Whatever. We all know we handed you that win.”
Jordan surprised them all by speaking up. “Then I guess you wouldn’t mind a rematch?”
Noah turned back, staring at her as if she’d just sprouted another head. “What?”
She took a step forward, her arms crossed over her chest. “I said, if you’re so sure we didn’t win fair and square, maybe we should have another go. The three of us versus the three of you.”
Noah’s brows drew together and he stared at her like she was nuts, but he didn’t respond.
Alex arched her brows. “What’s the matter, boys? You scared you’ll lose again?”
They laughed until the boys were gone. They didn’t stop laughing until they’d put away the rest of the equipment and were heading back to the girls’ dorm to shower.
“Thanks for having my back,” Hannah said.
“What are fellow tomboys for?” Alex said, slinging an arm around her shoulders.
Jordan dropped her voice in a terrible impression. “You know the trouble with tomboys . . .”
They all cracked up.
“What a moron,” Hannah said.
“I’m so glad you stood up to him, Alex,” Jordan added.
Alex hitched her hip to bump Jordan, who was walking on her other side. “And you. I can’t believe you outright challenged him to a rematch.”
Hannah leaned forward to grin at the blonde. “Seriously. Mad props, girl.”
Jordan clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head. Wh
en she dropped her hand, she said, “Honestly? I can’t believe I did that either.” She turned to Hannah. “But what about you? ‘I'll have to ask my boyfriend . . .!’”
Alex laughed. “That was awesome. His face was priceless.” She looked down at Hannah. “Were you making that up?"
Hannah shook her head. "No, I really do have a boyfriend. We’ve been together since middle school."
“Wow,” Alex said. “Since middle school?”
“He’s on my intramural soccer team,” Hannah said, as though that explained anything.
“He plays for your team?” Jordan sounded alarmed. “Aren't you worried about messing up the team if something happens?”
Hannah shook her head. “Not really. I mean, we’ve been friends forever, and we're not one of the dramatic couples who are into PDA or big fights or anything. We just . . . get along well."
Alex feigned a yawn. "Wow, that sounds really . . . romantic.”
Jordan laughed as Hannah shrugged again. “It works for us. What about you guys? Any boyfriends? Crushes?”
The answer was a unanimous ‘nah.’ Neither seemed terribly put out about it.
“What a dumb insult,” Alex said. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “As if I couldn’t get a boyfriend if I wanted one.”
“Seriously,” Hannah agreed. “As if any of us are desperate for a guy.”
Jordan laughed. “I mean, we’ve got more important things to worry about, like school and our teams. Who even has time for a relationship?”
After a brief silence, Alex made a bold statement. “Noah is an idiot.”
“Agreed,” Jordan said.
Hannah leaned forward to look at the other two. “You know the real trouble with tomboys?”
Alex arched a brow, a twinkle in her eyes. “They’re afraid of us.”
Jordan laughed, “Exactly.”
Chapter One
Hannah
My best friend Rose had abandoned her phone on my bed to watch me get ready for soccer practice. That was never a good sign. Rose always had her phone in hand.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Concern had etched a line between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. I’d never once been able to understand how she had the time or the pain-tolerance for that kind of body hair maintenance between her dance classes and theater rehearsals, but I’d learned long ago that Rose and I had very different priorities.
Hers involved primping.
Mine…did not.
She’d somehow made her eyebrows darker to match her new dramatic black-haired look she was sporting for the start of their junior year at Lakeview Prep. She dyed it a different color at the start of every school year. Freshman year she’d been a redhead, sophomore year she’d gone blonde with streaks of purple. This year it was black, which made her pale skin look even paler. She wore it well, though, somehow pulling off a glamorous look where anyone else would have looked like a vampire. But then again, Rose would have re-dyed it instantly if this shade had made her anything less than gorgeous.
“Are you sure you want to go?” she asked again. Her gaze moved over the T-shirt I’d just donned, and down to the shorts and sneakers. “And are you sure you want to wear that?”
I sighed. “It’s my uniform, Rose. What else am I supposed to wear to soccer practice?”
She pursed her lips in disapproval at the sight of my kneepads. “No, I know, it’s just…” She threw her hands up in the air. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Play soccer?” I arched my own undyed brows in return. “I’m sure.”
She huffed. “Play soccer for him.”
“It’s my team—”
“And he’s the captain,” she interrupted, her eyes practically bugging out of her head.
He was Caleb. My ex. To be more precise, he was my ex-boyfriend as of one week ago when he’d ended things via text while I was at a basketball clinic in Maine. Nice, right?
He was also my neighbor, my childhood friend, and—most importantly for this particular conversation—the captain of the intramural soccer team I’d been playing on every year since grade school.
Was I thrilled at the thought of spending the afternoon taking orders from the guy who’d just broken my heart? No. In fact, every time I thought about how it would be to practice alongside him not knowing how I was supposed to act around him now that we weren’t a couple anymore…it kind of made me want to vomit. But what choice did I have? This was my team, too, and besides, he and I had long ago agreed that we were friends first and foremost. The relationship part had just sort of…happened. We’d hit junior high and were still spending all of our time together and everyone else around us had started pairing off so we did too. It just sort of made sense.
I’d told Rose that story when she’d moved to town in eighth grade and she’d rolled her eyes. So romantic, she’d said with a yawn. But what she didn’t get was that I didn’t need romance. I didn’t want it. I loved Rose to death, but she and I were so very different. She was all girlie—she grew up playing with Barbies and watching Disney princess movies. She thought life revolved around boys and flirting and dating and… That was so not me. It never had been and it never would be.
One of the reasons Caleb and I worked so well was because he liked that about me. We were friends who kissed sometimes. We were BFFs who could go to formal dances together. We were a couple, sure, but we could still go outside and kick the ball around or work on my jump shot.
Rose was watching me now like I was some alien being because I wasn’t more upset about seeing Caleb for the first time since he’d ended things. She didn’t get it, and I couldn’t expect her to. Much as I loved Rose, I was seriously missing my old camp besties, Alex and Jordan. Neither of them lived close but we’d stayed in touch over the years and they’d been texting and IM’ing me like crazy ever since the breakup. Both agreed that I couldn’t let the breakup affect the rest of my life, and that meant I needed to keep doing the things I loved.
Soccer was one of them. Caleb might’ve been captain, but this was my team too.
Rose made a sound of disgust. “I just don’t know how you can go play on the team when he’s the captain. He’s like…your boss.”
“He’s also my friend,” I said.
She stared at me and I found myself squirming. She arched a newly-black brow. “Seriously?”
I shrugged. “What? We agreed to be friends.”
She blinked slowly. “When?”
“What?”
She shifted on the bed, leaning forward on her elbows. “When exactly did you come to the decision that you’d be friends after he dumped your butt via text?”
I reached for a hair tie and turned away to face the mirror as I scooped back my long, dark brown hair. “We’ve been talking,” I said, but it came out muffled thanks to the elastic hair tie I was currently clenching between my teeth.
Rose shot off the bed. “You’ve been talking? Since when?”
I winced as her wide-eyed face appeared in the mirror over my shoulder. She was all super-model tall and beanpole thin. I usually felt like a frumpy, squat Oompa Loompa beside her. Now was no exception. “Not talking-talking. Just texting.”
“I thought we agreed you were never going to speak to that jerk again.”
I flinched. I had said that, hadn’t I? In my defense, I’d said that right after I’d gotten back from the clinic. I hadn’t had time to fully process his rejection yet. “I said that in the heat of the moment,” I said. “I’ve had time to calm down since then.”
She met my gaze evenly in the mirror. “That was three days ago.”
I shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve had time to think.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And text, apparently.”
I shrugged again. I wasn’t going to apologize for texting my ex after he’d texted me to make sure I was okay. After all, as Caleb liked to point out—we’d always been friends first. And drama? That had never been our thing.
If we could get
through the uber hormonal junior high years without any major fights, we could handle our breakup like the mature young adults that we were.
Rose’s loud exasperated sigh, on the other hand…that had melodrama written all over it. “I thought we agreed.” She gave her head a little shake, sending her blunt black bangs swinging. “You were going to make him sweat.”
I grinned at her in the mirror as I wrapped the elastic around my ponytail. “You want me to make him sweat—I’ve decided to believe him when he said he wants some space.”
She was staring at me with an open mouth, horror in her eyes. “How are you so…so…okay with this? You guys were together forever.”
A muscle in my jaw twitched. That wasn’t exactly accurate. We’d been friends since forever thanks to our neighboring yards and shared love of sports. We’d been a couple since fifth grade—which, in high school speak was basically the equivalent of forever.
I blinked rapidly at the stinging sensation in the back of my eyes. I hadn’t wept and wailed over the end of our relationship, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t hurting. I mean, my pride was wounded, sure, but I also sort of got where he was coming from. We were young. Too young to be planning our futures together, and since this year was all about researching colleges, catching the eye of recruiters, and preparing for the future, it was probably time to start being more independent.
I got that. I did.
But that didn’t make being dumped via text after five years any easier to swallow. I drew in a deep breath and met Rose’s concerned gaze. I forced a smile that probably didn’t fool her. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
She opened her mouth, about to protest, but she was cut off by my little brother Bentley calling out my name. “Hannah!” he bellowed as he raced up the steps to my bedroom on the second floor.
Playing the Enemy: The Trouble With Tomboys #1 Page 1