The waitress takes our drink order and brings us some bread. I butter a slice and offer it to Mallory. She waves it away. “I don’t do carbs.”
“So, no pizza, fries, sandwiches, desserts?”
“Only on special occasions. And no red meat, either. And I only eat organic.”
What does that leave? I guess I won’t be doing much cooking for her.
I chuckle when I remember how Kerri said her typical diet is described in athletic circles as carb-loading.
Mallory glares at me. “You think eating healthy is funny?”
My eyes bug out, and I hold up my hands. “No, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just a memory.” I smile, and wonder if she’s going to ask me about it, and for a moment I’m trying to figure out if it would be weird to tell a story about another girl, but Mallory just curls her lip and stares at me oddly.
“It was nothing.” I wave it off, and she makes a face and goes back to her menu.
When the waitress returns, Mallory orders one of the $20 salads and the seafood trio, and I order a shrimp dish that’s comparatively inexpensive.
When the waitress leaves, silence stacks up between us like a brick wall, and I’m desperate to break through it, but I totally suck at this small talk thing.
“So, what kinds of TV shows and movies do you like?” I finally blurt out. That ought to be safe. Everybody watches TV, and there’s got to be some show we’re both into.
“Keeping Up with the Kardashians, The Bachelorette, American Idol.” She ticks them off on her fingers.
Okay, I was wrong. We have probably never watched the same TV show, ever. Kerri watches some of that girly stuff, but mainly because she likes to make fun of it. She’ll also watch the horror movies and action flicks that I like. She cracks me up when she watches them, though, because she bounces up and down in her seat during the fight scenes and car chases and buries her head in my shoulder during the gory bits.
I expect Mallory to ask me what shows I like, but she doesn’t, she just waits for me to say something about those, but I’m at a loss.
I’m trying to think of something else to talk about and wishing she’d take the lead when Mallory picks up her phone and starts poking at it. It seems a little rude to me, but at least it takes the pressure off for a minute. I thought all the time I’d spent with Kerri had taught me a few things about how to talk to girls, but I feel just as clueless as ever when it comes to Mallory.
We don’t have anything in common at all. And Mallory doesn’t seem to care about finding anything, either. I don’t think she’s asked me one single question. Why did she want to go out with me if she’s not interested in getting to know me?
As much as I dreamed about dating Mallory, the actual experience is kind of a let down. Mallory is gorgeous, but that’s about all she’s got going for her. She doesn’t strike me as smart or funny or interesting or even nice, and she’s not making any effort to carry on a conversation, she just keeps looking at her phone and texting. All I can think about is all the fun things Kerri would say and do if she were here with me.
Thankfully, the food doesn’t take long, and soon the waitress is back with our meals.
Mallory frowns when the waitress sets two dishes in front of her. “You should’ve brought the salad first. If I eat it now, my entree will get cold, but if I wait, the lettuce will wilt.” Her tone is so rude, I’m embarrassed.
“Sorry, Miss. You ordered an entree salad, so the kitchen sent it with the other entrees. Would you like me to take something back and bring you a fresh dish later?”
“Yes, I’ll have my salad first.” She pushes the seafood dish to the edge of the table. The waitress nods and removes it, and I wonder if she’ll just microwave it later.
“Can you believe that? God, what an idiot.” Mallory rolls her eyes and sneers, and I stare at my plate, hoping she doesn’t choose this moment to demand a response from me.
I dig into my food, grateful for a distraction. It’s delicious, and I’m halfway through mine before I notice that Mallory has barely made a dent in her salad.
“Is everything okay with your food?” I ask.
She pokes at it and takes a tiny bite of lettuce. “It’s fine, I’m just getting full. I don’t know why they made it so huge.”
I want to remind her that she ordered the entree size, but I keep my mouth shut.
The waitress comes back a few minutes later to ask Mallory if she wants her main dish now.
“Just box it up, I’ll take it home.”
That ticks me off, but I’m glad I don’t have to sit here and wait for her to eat it. I’m ready to get out of here.
“Dessert?” The waitress hands us dessert menus, and I’m shocked when Mallory takes one and orders a piece of lemon raspberry cake to go.
“I thought you didn’t eat dessert,” I can’t help saying.
“I told you, only on special occasions.” And this qualifies?
The waitress brings the check, and sure enough, it’s going to eat up most of my savings. I’m a little surprised when Mallory doesn’t make any move at all towards the check. Technically, she asked me out, so shouldn’t she at least offer? Kerri always splits it with me. I know this is a date and not just hanging out with a friend, but still.
I pay the bill and leave a generous tip since Mallory was kind of a PIA, and we head back out to my car. The night is still early; I feel like I should suggest some other activity, but I really just want this date to end.
“Did you want to go see a movie, or something?” I offer half-heartedly. At least that wouldn’t require me to carry on a conversation.
“I have some homework to do, so I should probably call it a night,” Mallory says, and I’m instantly relieved.
When we pull up to her house, I jump out and open her door then walk with her up to the front door. Surprisingly, I have no desire to kiss her. She looks exactly the same as she did two hours ago when I picked her up, but I’m not the least bit attracted to her anymore. All I can think about is how I wish I was with Kerri instead.
Mallory didn’t seem very interested in me tonight, either, so why did she want to go out?
“Thank you for a great time tonight, Connor.” She suddenly smiles and drapes her arms around my neck, and I’m taken aback by the about face. “Let’s do it again soon.”
I stare at her, no clue what to say.
“You’re going to be at the game Wednesday night to cheer me on, right?” She asks, and suddenly everything makes sense.
Mallory isn’t interested in me, she just wants to win the next game. Kerri must’ve put her up to this.
Mallory doesn’t wait for me to respond, just gives me a peck on the cheek and says, “You’re the best, Connor!” then hurries inside.
Chapter Twenty
Kerri
I thought Friday the 13th was bad, but every one of the last few days has managed to top it in terms of suckiness. With Connor not around, life has been downright miserable, and not just because of all the bad luck I’m having again.
I miss him so much, I just want to cry every time I think about him. But he failed my test, or passed it, however you want to look at it, so now I know for sure he doesn’t like me as anything more than a friend because he’s still into Mallory.
Not only did he take the bait when she asked him out, he took her out that very same night, like he couldn’t wait another minute to go out with her. Mallory said he dressed up, although she thought he looked kind of dorky, and they went to an expensive seafood restaurant, which means he put in a lot of effort. Connor doesn’t even like seafood.
I can’t help but compare it to all the times he and I sat around eating fast food in our sweatpants. The difference is, those obviously weren’t dates.
At least he’s coming to the game tonight, according to Mallory. Will his presence still be good luck for me, even if he doesn’t want to be?
I have detention today for falling asleep in first period yesterday, after being 15 minutes ta
rdy. Let’s just say Mr. Markum wasn’t too happy when I started snoring.
I didn’t get much sleep Monday night because I’d been up all night wondering what Connor and Mallory were doing. I wanted so badly to text him and ask him about it, but seeing how he decided not to tell me he was going out with her, I figured he wasn’t interested in sharing the details of how the night went.
I faked sick and went to the nurse’s office during third period yesterday because I didn’t have the guts to face him. I was shaking and nauseous, and my head was pounding. Turns out I really was sick, though, it wasn’t just nerves. I had a low grade fever, so the nurse sent me home. I puked my guts out a couple times last night, and I still felt kind of rotten this morning, but I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to play tonight if I didn’t go to school today, so I sucked it up and forced myself to muddle through class. I still don’t have the courage to talk to Connor, though.
Detention makes me miss a lot of our warm-ups, and Coach Kavanagh gives me the stink-eye when I show up at the last minute. I hustle into the locker room to change into my uniform, and lingering toilet odors and the scent of sweaty gym clothes and too many kinds of perfume and deodorant turns my stomach.
Please don’t barf, please don’t barf — I beg myself as I slap a hand over my mouth and try to suppress my gag reflex.
I yank my bag open and pull out my uniform, well, half of it, anyway. I have my jersey, but where are my shorts? I dump everything out of my bag, but they’re not in there.
“Does anybody have any extra shorts I can borrow?” I holler out, but the only person who does is Tanya, who is at least two sizes bigger than me. I pull the shorts on and roll them up around the waist, praying they don’t fall off while I’m playing.
I’m wearing knee-high socks with bright green shamrocks all over them, and I decide just to leave them on instead of changing into the white ankle socks I normally wear. I’m in desperate need of some extra good luck today; maybe the shamrocks will help.
Mallory is banging her locker door around, glaring at me and acting pissy, and I just want to smack her. “Why’d you miss practice yesterday and warmups today, Kerri? You know we need you at your best.”
“I had detention, okay? I’ll be fine.” I don’t mention that I had a fever less that 24 hours ago. “Connor will be here, right? That’s all I need.”
She nods her head, but there’s a strange look on her face, and I wonder if something happened between them. Is it terrible that the thought makes me a little happier?
We head out into the gym where the Buckley High Buccaneers are doing their precision warmup drills up and down the court like Nazi soldiers, their footsteps so in sync they shake the whole gym with each footfall. My heart starts racing to the beat, and I have to take a deep breath and remind myself that we beat them last time.
My fingers automatically reach to twirl the Claddagh ring I normally wear, but I wince when I remember I don’t have it. I have no idea when or where I lost it, I just noticed it missing on Saturday.
I start scanning the crowds for Connor, but I don’t have enough time to find him before the whistle blows. I trust that he’s there, though — for Mallory. The thought pinches me in the chest, and I rub the spot as I take my place on the court. I can’t think about Connor, right now. I have to focus all my attention on winning this basketball game.
I’m playing strong; somehow I find the energy that’s been missing since Friday evening. We take an early lead, and the team is in high spirits which gets them all moving, even Mallory. Her ponytail swishes as she jogs up and down the court, actually participating for once. I try not to think about the fact that she’s probably impressing Connor with her sudden improvement.
By halftime, we have 20 points on the Bucs, and I’m feeling confident we’re going to win this. I grab some water and start searching the crowds for Connor. I can’t help it, I just want a glimpse of him. I look for my dad’s lucky sweatshirt first, my eyes stopping on everyone in green, but none of them are Connor. Okay, so he didn’t wear the sweatshirt. No big deal. He’s always been lucky for me, even when he’s not wearing it.
Next, I start looking for anyone with his hair color in the area where he normally sits, but I still can’t find him. I see Mia and Austin and my brothers Sean and Niall, but Connor isn’t sitting with them, either. It’s a full crowd, though, so I head over to Mallory to ask her if she knows where he’s sitting.
“Hey Mallory, have you seen Connor?”
She stares at her water bottle and won’t make eye contact with me.
“Mallory?”
She gives her head a tiny shake.
“He’s here, though, right? He said he would be, didn’t he?”
“Uh, yeah, on Monday.” I can tell by the look on her face that there’s more to the story.
I prop my hands on my hips and lean in. “Is there any reason that might have changed?”
She winces and backs up a step. “He was a little indifferent today when I mentioned it.”
“Indifferent? What the heck does that mean? What exactly did he say to you?”
“Well, I asked him if he was coming tonight, and he said he wasn’t sure he could make it, so I said I wanted him to celebrate with us afterwards…”
She lets her voice trail off, but I know there’s more to the story.
“And what did he say to that?” I ask through clenched teeth.
Mallory scrunches up her face. “He said he knew I wasn’t really into him, and he wasn’t interested in being used. But he didn’t say he wasn’t coming!”
I throw up my hands. “Mallory! How did he know you’re not into him? Did you try to pretend like you were, or were you your normally bitchy self? You know I need him here if I’m going to win this!” I’m shaking so hard with anger I can feel my bun wiggling.
“No you don’t, Kerri! We’re already way ahead! You just have to keep playing like you have been. Everyone does.” She looks around, pointedly glaring at the other players like she has any room to complain about slackers.
The buzzer rings, then, and I don’t have time to argue. My confidence is down the tubes now, though, and I play like crap the whole third quarter. My team throws ugly glares at me as I miss shot after shot. For once, can’t they just pick up the slack? The other team takes possession, scoring a quick layup. Our lead drops to three points. The Buccaneers have commandeered the game like the pirates they are.
Coach calls our last time out during the fourth quarter, and she stares all of us down like she’s trying to impale us with her icy, blue eyes. I fix my drooping shorts and try not to make eye contact.
“Okay you whiny, little girls, I’ve had enough of your pity party! Now, we are obviously capable of beating this team. We did it during the first half, and we did it last time we played them. I don’t know what’s got your panties in a wad since then, but you need to pick your thongs out of your cracks and put your big girl panties on!”
I can’t help but chuckle; that’s a lot of underwear analogies for one pep talk.
“How bad do you want this, girls? Because if you really want it, you’ll take control of your own destiny and make it happen. You have the skills, you have the talent, all you need is the right attitude.” She doesn’t say my name, but I know her words are meant for me.
She’s right. Maybe I am the unluckiest girl ever, but does that mean I have to let my bad luck ruin everything? I’ve worked my butt off all season to make it to regionals. I’m not going down now without a fight.
I head back into the game with my mind steeled on winning. Unfortunately, so do the Bucs. We score a few more points, but they do, too, and soon we’re tied at 85, but I have the ball.
The shorts I borrowed from Tanya have come unrolled, and they’re starting to sag. I grab hold of the waistband and try to keep them from falling. The last thing I need is to be depantsed in front of hundreds of people. The shorts start to slip when I’m dribbling down the court, and I fumble the ball as I yank them up.
<
br /> Dang it! The Bucs take the ball again and gain the lead. I’m not going to let them have this! I need to win this for me, for my dad, for my team, and to show Connor that I don’t need him.
Suddenly, I’m playing like a beast, stealing the ball and pounding it down the court, barreling over anyone in my path. They practically jump out of my way, I’m acting so fierce.
I score an awesome three-pointer, bringing us ahead by one, and there’s only ten seconds left on the clock. All I have to do is keep the ball and let the clock run out, but I’m not satisfied with a one point lead. I want a better win than that.
I dribble closer, weaving my way around the Bucs, blocking anybody who tries to take the ball from me with a growl. With five seconds left on the clock, I know I can’t get any closer and still have time to shoot. It’s time for a showdown.
The overgrown members of the other team surround me, arms up to snag the ball, but I launch myself into the air like a spring, letting go of the ball at the peak of my jump, and it soars through the air towards the basket.
Chapter Twenty-One
Connor
What if it’s true? What if Kerri really is cursed with bad luck and needs a good luck charm to overcome it? And what if I really am that talisman?
Tonight is the regional playoffs, and Kerri deserves to win this. What if she loses because I wasn’t there for her?
Even though I’m jealous she went out with Jake and hurt and angry that she seems to be giving me the cold shoulder, I still care about her. I still want things to go well for her.
I fiddle with Kerri’s gold Claddagh ring that I found in my car after school. It must’ve fallen off when she was riding with me. Maybe I should take it to her. It would give me an excuse to talk to her, at least.
The red numbers on the clock by my bed blink forward, reminding me the game is almost half over. I wonder how the team is doing? What if they’re losing?
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