We take a break to have some nachos and a Diet Coke. We chat a little about school, about our friends, and about how close we’re getting to college applications and graduation day. It’s still insane to me that this time next year, I’ll be knee deep in applications and essays.
The music slows down when we get back to the floor. Quinn reaches out to me and I tangle my fingers with his. As we skate in circles, he brushes his thumb back and forth along the back of my hand. I have to fight back the giggles at first since it tickles. But once I get over that, I’m in awe. He is way too good to be true.
On our way home, he pulls through a drive-through at Starbucks. He orders something I could never repeat if I tried. I pass. I’m really itching to have a Slurpee. Maybe I can convince my mom to take me and the girls to get one later. If we go on another date, and I really hope we do, I’m going to have to request a 7-11 run instead of coffee.
The ride home doesn’t seem so long. We actually pull up to my house a lot faster than I was hoping. I’m not ready for our date to be over. I know I was thinking I’d rather stay home and veg out, but this turned out great. I can skate now. No butt pads needed.
“Wait right here,” he says. He jumps out of the car and jogs around to my side. The door opens. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” He smiles. He offers me his hand and when I take it, he pulls me up and his mouth is on mine before I can register what’s happening. His lips are soft, and I allow myself to kiss him back. His strong arms wrap around my body and the tight embrace makes me hot. Not sexy hot, just temperature warm. This is a little too much. I’m not into getting this heated with him so quickly.
I try to relax and enjoy the kiss. Quinn does the same. His arms go limp and I can breathe again. But now I can feel his fingertips on my hips, and they’re on the move. Little by little, they move to my sides. Then I feel his thumbs trace my ribs…
He better not. He is not going for my boobs. He can’t. My mind crowds with these thoughts when I feel his grip tighten on my tits.
Whoa. Wait a minute.
I push on his chest to back him off, but he doesn’t budge. I swipe his hand away, only to have him press his hand harder on my breast. This time, I scoot away from him so quickly, it’s like I’m jumping out of my own skin. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“What’s up, Meg?” he sneers, throwing up his hands.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Um. It was just a little much.”
He steps toward me and hangs his finger through the belt loop of my jeans. “Not really. I like you. You like me. We had a good time tonight. Let’s finish the evening with a bang.” He dips his head, trying to capture my mouth again, but I dodge him.
“Excuse me?” I hope he’s not talking about the kind of bang I think he is. “I had a good time, Quinn. Thank you. But I’m going to go inside now. Thanks for everything. I’ll call you.”
“What the fuck? Why are you getting all rigid on me?” He pulls me closer. Even though I back away, he still has a grip on me. “Come on. We’re not done yet. I wanna kiss you some more. Just relax.”
“Oh. Okay. Like I can relax now. You just cussed at me and now you’re acting like an ass. Thanks for taking me skating. But just because we had a good time, it doesn’t mean I owe you anything.” I push away from him again, and move out of his reach. “So if you want to play ass grab and touchy-boobie-feely, you’re gonna have to do it with someone else. Better yet, why don’t you go home and curl up with a nice bottle of lotion and a sock. We’re done.” I walk away from him as fast as I can before he can grab me again.
When I’m almost to my door, I hear him mutter, “Bitch.”
I whip around and shout, “No. You’re the bitch. You’re a little bitch!”
Not sticking around to hear anything else, I push open the door to my house and slam it behind me. I lean against the door taking deep breaths and fight the urge to cry. How could my perfect evening end so horribly wrong? Why would he think he could put his hands all over me after just one night? Okay, so maybe some girls are okay with that, but I’m not. I would have been totally cool with him if he would have just been like, “Okay, no problem. We can just kiss.” But no. He turned into a total jackass and scared the shit out of me. What a dick!
Fifteen
By the time Keesh and Steph show up, I’ve already changed into my Berkeley hoodie, some sweats, and I’m missing Alex terribly. This kind of shit would never have happened if he was here and we were together. I don’t know what made me think of that because I know the chances of us getting back together are slim, but I just feel like I need him right now. Okay, maybe I don’t need him, but it would be nice to talk to him. And share one of his perfect hugs. So perfect I don’t have to worry about him attacking me or cussing me out because I don’t want to let him feel me up.
“What’s up, Meggie?” Keesh says, ripping open a bag of Hot Cheetos. “You’ve been quiet ever since we got here.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d be dying to hear about our dates,” Steph says, pulling her hair back into a ponytail perched high on her head. “I can’t wait any longer to hear the details about yours. You looked so cute walking out of your house holding hands. He was such a sweetheart.” She flops herself down on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn.
They obviously had a better time than I did. Ugh. Where do I start? “You tell me first,” I say, taking any chance I can to delay my sob story.
“Not much to tell.” Steph shoves a handful of kettle corn in her mouth with a shrug. With food spilling out into the bowl, she continues, “It was nothing special. We went to the movies. And got ice cream. We couldn’t find much to talk about. When he dropped me off, he gave me a side hug. Didn’t even try to kiss me. Total friend zone.”
“Well, we don’t need any more of those. We still have two goofballs we can’t shake,” Keesh says of Josh and Travis. “I wish Jesse wouldn’t have tried to kiss me. His breath was kickin’. And I can’t even blame it on our dinner. We just had coffee and walked around the mall.” No wonder she’s almost finished with the family-sized bag of cheesy goodness. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to go for a big smooch after a long night of chillin’ at the mall. Not exactly my idea of a romantic time.”
Steph and I shake our heads in agreement. And then Steph starts laughing. “Romantic? Jesse’s in high school. Boys aren’t romantic. They can barely keep their hands from scratching their balls every five seconds. There will be no romance. If we’re lucky, we’ll find guys who may surprise us with something semi-romantic when we’re older but probably not. My dad says that chick flicks have ruined it for men. We all have these false expectations of what men actually do in real life.”
“That’s depressing,” I tell her. “No wonder our moms are so willing to travel all over the country to get a piece of their boy band love.”
“Exactly.” Keesh balls up her empty bag and heads to the kitchen. I can hear the opening and closing of the trash can. When she comes back in, she’s eyeballing me. “So, how was Quinn? I bet he was far better than our lousy dates.”
Scrunching my nose at them, I shake my head. “Nope. Not at all.” I think about skating. “I take that back. It started out great. He took me skating.” Steph and Keesh both gasp. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking at first, but I did it. I learned how to skate and we had a really good time.”
“But…” Keesh is leaning forward as if she doesn’t want to miss a thing.
“When we got home, he was a little too touchy and he got all pissed when I told him to stop.”
Steph reaches for my hand. “He did stop though, right?”
“Oh hell yeah. He’d still be laid out in pain on my curb if he didn’t.” I let out an uncomfortable chuckle.
“What happened? What did he say?” Keesh asks.
“We had a great time at the rink. We talked a lot. He was super sweet. When we got home, he kissed me as soon as I got out of the car. It felt a little weird. He held me tight, which made me feel odd.
Then he started feeling all over my side and belly. And he tried to squeeze my boobs.”
Steph grimaces and Keesh scowls.
“So what did you do?” they both ask.
I fill them in on the story and by the time I tell them he called me a bitch, Keesh is already on the phone screaming at Jamie. “Tell your fucking brother if he ever cusses at my friend again or tries to touch her, I’ll kick his ass. And when I’m done with him, so will Steph. And then about ten other people will be lined up to do the same thing.” She pounds on her phone to end the call. “That’ll take care of that.”
We stare at her in stunned silence before we bust up laughing. “You didn’t need to do that. Poor Jamie had no idea what he was answering the phone to,” I tell her.
“Yeah, he probably shit his pants,” Steph says, laughing.
Keesh unfolds her legs and stands. “Well, something needed to be said.” She rubs her belly. “I need more food. You guys want anything?” Steph shakes her head and I hold up my empty bottle of water for a refill.
So much for a hot night out with some cute boys. What a freaking bust. “I thought we’d be closer to double timing boys this year, not working double time to find some decent ones.” I crack off another piece of my KitKat and chomp on it.
“Oh, honey, you’ve been double timing for quite a while.” Keesh snickers as she gets comfortable again, this time with a bowl of chocolate-covered popcorn.
“You’re crazy.” I throw a pillow at her.
“Am I right?” She looks at Steph for clarification.
Steph nods. “Sorry, Meg, but yeah. She’s right.”
I chuck a pillow her way too.
“Uh oh, pillow fight,” Mom says, as she comes in. I didn’t even hear them get home. I look at the clock. Wow. Way after midnight. They must have had a good time.
“Yeah, they’re ganging up on me,” I tell her, pointing at my two offenders.
“Why?”
Keesh and Steph giggling. “We’re just talking about how your daughter has been double timing two boys and she doesn’t really need to add any more victims to her list.” I can’t believe Keesh.
“Oh, honey, Alex and Travis aren’t enough? You need more attention?” she says, mocking me with a baby voice. I toss a pillow at my mom this time.
“Ha ha, you all are so funny,” I say.
Dad takes this very inopportune time to make an appearance. “What’s so funny?” he asks.
Yeah, right. Like I want to have this conversation with my dad.
After my date from hell, I didn’t think things could get any worse. But here I am at soccer tryouts. Again. Third year in a row. And the third year in a row I’m bitching about it. I don’t know why I keep subjecting myself to this torture, but I do. Once the season starts and my body doesn’t feel like one gigantic Charley horse, I’ll be okay. Until then, it’s a long road. Filled with my overabundance of complaints.
Keesh doesn’t have to try out this year. She and a few others have a solid spot on varsity, so they’ve already started practicing. I, however, still have to go through all the drills feeling like I’m being watched through a wall of plexiglass at the zoo. Or maybe I should say watched like a rerun of America’s Funniest Home Videos. I know I can’t play well, but at least I’m entertaining.
During our first dribbling run, I’m surprised when I don’t trip or kick the ball too far out in front of me. The ball stays at a comfortable distance and I tap tap it all the way to the cones and back without making an ass out of myself.
“Well done, Megan,” Coach calls out. A smile spreads across my face. That’s not something I’ve heard too often on the field.
The next drill is a passing one and I’m paired with a new girl. She wasn’t on the team last year, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her around.
“Dude, what’s your name?” she asks.
I want to tell her it’s definitely not “dude.” “Megan, but most people call me Meg.”
“Cool, I’m Andi,” she says, all four-feet-something of her. She’s this tiny little pixy thing. She has her hair tied up in a high pony and it sprays out in every which direction from the top of her head.
“Nice color.” I tug at the ends of my hair.
She reaches for her own. “Oh, thanks. I like to have fun with it. I change the color all the time.” The last inch of her hair is colored pink. It’s cute. The look works for her.
“We’re up.” We both meet at the starting line as the girls before us pass the ball to each other and then it ends up at my feet. The whistle blows and now it’s our turn.
We take turns passing the ball back and forth. Around the cones and back, we’re flawless. Pretty impressive.
“Meggie,” Shelly asks. “Have you been practicing? You’re killing it out there.” She was on my team last year and is fully aware my sudden success is not the norm.
“Not really. I just feel a lot more comfortable. You’re doing pretty awesome too.”
After what seemed like ten thousand bleacher laps and five hundred drills, our first day of tryouts is over. I don’t feel that bad. I’m giddy, really. I can’t believe how well I played. Keesh spotted me score a goal, and I could hear her screaming my name from the other field.
“Dude, I’m beat. That was grueling.” Andi plops her stuff beside me and sits.
“Tell me about it,” I say. “So, are you new? Is this your first year trying out?”
“Yeah, I’m new to soccer and new to the school,” she says, unlacing her cleats.
“Really? Where’re you from?” Aww. Freeing my feet has never felt so good. Now if I can just get rid of these damn shin guards.
“Boston.”
Oh my gosh. “Boston? Really? My mom would love you. She’s an obsessive New Kids fan. Have you ever heard of them?”
“That’s a silly question. Of course I have. My mom is crazy about them. They should meet.”
“Totally. So what brings you to California?” Little by little, my body is starting to feel like normal.
“My mom got a new job so here we are.”
“You don’t sound like I’d expect. You know, that aww in your words. It’s not there.” I think of the countless interviews I’ve seen and how Joey Joe sounds. I pictured all Bostonians speaking like him.
“Dude, no. I don’t sound like that.” She giggles. “I grew up in Arizona and moved to Boston for a few years, where they thought I sounded funny.” She points to herself. “So I never got that accent.”
“Bummer, that would’ve been cool,” I tell her, completely meaning it. “Have you met a lot of people here? Who do you hang out with?”
She crinkles her nose at me. “I haven’t really met anyone yet. This is my second week and you’re the first person who has been friendly.”
“Really?” I can’t believe that. We always talk to new people. That sucks. A new state, a new school, and no new friends after two weeks. “Let me introduce you to my friends. We’re in an interesting group. Here comes one of them now.”
Keesh towers over us, smiling. “Meg, you were on fire, baby. Have you been practicing behind my back?” She cracks herself up. She looks at Andi and says, “Hey.”
I introduce the girls. “She’s from Boston. Just started here. And no, asshole, I haven’t been practicing.”
“Are you sure you wanna hang with us and take this abuse?” She points her thumb in my direction. We all chuckle. “Wait, did you say Boston? Our moms are gonna flip.”
“Is your mom a Blockhead too?” Andi asks.
“Oh my, you speak the language too?” Keesh looks stunned. She turns to me and I smile. “Are you guys ready to go? I’m starving.”
I get to my feet and am surprised when my legs don’t feel like they’re going to explode.
“My legs are killing me. I’m going to call my mom to pick me up,” Andi says, walking slowly.
“I feel pretty good for the first day. I was expecting to have to crawl home,” I tell them.
�
�Did you do anything different?” she asks, still taking baby steps.
“I’ve been drinking gallons of water for the last month.”
Keesh laughs. “It’s a secret sore muscle remedy from her college boyfriend.”
I shoot her a nasty look. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Andi smiles. “Dude, you have a boyfriend in college?”
Keesh cracks up some more. “Yeah, she does. And a high school boyfriend too.” She jabs me in the side with her elbow.
“Stop,” I tell Keesh. “Andi, I don’t have a boyfriend. Neither does Keesh. Or our other friend Steph. We’re all having a blast being single this year.”
“Liar,” Keesh teases.
“Dude, what about?” Andi asks. “The boyfriends?” She emphasizes the plural. “Or having a blast being single?”
“Both,” Keesh and I mutter together.
Sixteen
“Dude, you should text Andi and tell her to sit with us,” Keesh says, making fun of the new girl. She did say “dude” more than anyone I’ve ever known.
I take out my phone and invite her to have lunch with us. I thought about her last night. I even told my mom about her being from Boston. Just like I imagined, she smiled from ear to ear at the thought of meeting a fellow Blockhead, and one straight from Beantown was just icing on the cake.
“She’s on her way,” I tell the girls.
“I can’t believe she hasn’t met anyone in two weeks,” Steph says. “She sounds cool enough.”
Here she comes. She’s a tiny little thing dressed super cute with skinny jeans and a turquoise peasant top. The color looks great against her light skin and brings out her blue eyes. She’s just so cute, like I can scoop her up and put her in my pocket.
“Hey, Andi, thanks for eating with us,” I say. “Take a seat. Pull up some grass.” I pat a spot next to me.
“No. Thank you.” She drops her messenger bag and plops down. “Dude, if I had to eat another day in that cafeteria by myself, I was going to buy a bus ticket back to Boston. I felt like such a lame-o.”
Double Time (Double Threat series) Page 10