Love at First Fight: Geeks Gone Wild #1

by Dallen, Maggie

  Or maybe, that little voice from my past whispered. Maybe we could be more.

  “I should, uh…I should go.” I forced myself to say it because I had to get away. Now, preferably, before I did something to humiliate myself once again in front of Jason and his friends. He let me go and I gave him an awkward little wave before spinning on my heel and running away.

  I wasn’t a big fan of fleeing from danger, but in this case? Running away was so much more preferable to the other urge I’d very nearly caved to.

  Fleeing from my new friend might not have been smooth, but kissing him?

  That would have been a disaster.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jason

  I hated to see her go, but maybe it was for the best. My head was still spinning from the realization I’d had when I’d held her in my arms and she was standing there all soft laughter and sweet gazes.

  I didn’t know if I could hold her like that and not kiss her.

  “Oh crap.” I muttered it under my breath as I thrust both hands through my hair and took a deep, steadying breath.

  I’d almost kissed her. I’d come this close to kissing Margo Caruso, my lifelong neighbor, my kinda-sorta friend, my teammate’s nemesis. Margo Caruso—who also happened to be the girl of my dreams.

  Oh crap.

  I didn’t just want to be her friend. There was no denying it any longer. I liked her. But did she like me?

  I dropped my hands to my sides.

  Doubtful. Highly doubtful.

  Oh crap.

  “What are you doing, bro?”

  Yup, this day was officially taking a turn for the worse. I turned around to see Joel and his cohorts surrounding me, with Cara, Taylor, and a couple of the other cheerleaders flanking them.

  Julia stood behind them a bit and gave me a sad sort of smile that made my gut twist with guilt. I didn’t like Julia, not like that, but I didn’t want to hurt her either. And the way I’d been holding Margo just now… It was possible these guys had gotten the wrong impression. Or the right impression but the wrong idea?

  Oh man, I was confused. I needed space and maybe a long conversation with Margo to sort this all out.

  But what I had was Joel—in my face and glaring at me like he was ready to throw down. “Bro,” he said. “Why are you hanging with the enemy?”

  “The enemy?” I repeated. He couldn’t be serious.

  His brows drew together further into a glower for the ages.

  Okay, maybe he was serious. I shook my head. “She’s not the enemy, man.”

  “How do you know?” He pointed in the direction where she left. “She’s probably the one who posted that picture of you.”

  “She didn’t do it,” I said through gritted teeth. My patience was officially shot when it came to this guy.

  “If she didn’t then it was one of her friends.”

  I opened my mouth and shut it. He had a point. I didn’t doubt for a second that Margo knew more than she was telling me about that site, but I could respect her desire to protect her friends. Wasn’t that exactly what I’d been trying to do for Joel and his crew? I’d kept silent so that they wouldn’t get in trouble.

  And just look how well that was going for me.

  “You’re going to feel really stupid when I prove that your girlfriend was the one who made us all look bad.”

  I ignored the girlfriend comment. While obviously a dig, it sounded way too good to me. Now was not the time to be pondering my love life, or lack thereof.

  Joel sneered. “When I have proof it was her I’m going to—”

  “If the next words out of your mouth are a threat, I’m through covering for you, Joel.”

  He drew back with a look of disbelief.

  “I mean it,” I said. “One threat toward Margo or her friends and I’ll tell the coach to cut you before you can get the whole team benched.”

  Silence echoed in the hallway because I didn’t make threats. Or rather, I didn’t make empty threats and everyone knew it.

  Joel backed down from our little standoff first, but he didn’t admit defeat gracefully. He shook his head and grumbled under his breath as he headed toward the lockers, his groupies in tow.

  The girls watched him go and some of my friends from the team stuck around too in a show of solidarity, I guess. I turned to them. “I’m serious. If it comes down to him or the team, I’ll pick the team every time.”

  “Yeah, man, we know.” One of the guys clapped a hand on my shoulder and we all followed Joel toward the locker room.

  I heard Cara’s voice behind me, coy and taunting. “What if it comes down to your team or your girlfriend?”

  I turned around and found her smirking at me. Julia, meanwhile, had ducked her head and seemed absorbed by something at her feet. Her friends, Taylor and Sage, had gathered around her protectively like I was the big bad wolf.

  Or maybe that was Cara, because while supposedly Julia’s friend, she didn’t seem to notice or care that this conversation was hurting her.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend,” I said. It came out stiff and awkward because everything in me rebelled. It was the truth but I didn’t want it to be.

  I wanted Margo and now that I knew that, I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t. I’d been denying the obvious for way too long as it was.

  “Oh no?” Cara’s eyes widened, all fake innocence. “Does Margo know that? You two looked awfully cozy just now.”

  “Drop it, Cara.”

  Her eyes narrowed at my tone. “Why? Hitting a little too close to home, Connolly?”

  I sighed and went to turn away. I didn’t have time to get sucked into Cara’s drama on top of everything else.

  “You’d better be careful, Jason,” she called after me. That had me pausing, my hands clenching at my sides at her taunting tone. I turned slowly to face her and was rewarded with her smug smile.

  “Careful of what?”

  “You can’t be too nice to girls like Margo—”

  “Girls like Margo?” I didn’t even try to hide my disgust.

  She arched her brows in challenge. “Would you prefer the term loser? Fine. You need to be careful when dealing with losers like Margo.”

  I let out a huff of disbelief. “Seriously, Cara? Are you actively trying to win the award for mean girl of the year?”

  Julia finally looked up at that and I caught a flicker of a smile. Her friends who surrounded her turned defensive, apparently on Cara’s behalf. They crossed their arms and frowned at me like I was the rude one here.

  Cara, for her part, seemed unconcerned by my comment, her eyes widening with mock concern. “I just don’t want to see poor Margo getting hurt.”

  “I’d never hurt Margo,” I said.

  I think I might have stunned us all with that honest statement and for a second there was silence.

  “So you do like her,” Cara said. Her gaze flickered over to Julia and I felt a wave of disgust at the look of triumph I saw on Cara’s face, as though seeing her friend’s pain was a win.

  I looked to Julia but she was back to staring at the ground. I started to turn back, joining my friends who were waiting for me to lead the way. “I’ve got to get to practice.”

  “You should invite her out with us sometime,” Cara called, laughter coloring her voice. “Oh wait, I know. You should take her to homecoming.”

  I stiffened but ignored her taunts.

  “Who knows? Maybe she’ll be the next homecoming queen.” She burst out laughing at that and her unpleasant, high-pitched laugh followed me into the locker room.

  Against all odds, our practice didn’t totally suck. All of the earlier tension between me and Joel seemed to be funneled into the good kind of aggression, the kind that left us all sweaty and exhausted by the time coach blew his whistle to send us off to the showers.

  I managed to avoid any more confrontations in the locker room and headed home for some much needed alone time to get homework done and wrap my head around the realization
that at some point I’d gone and fallen for my eccentric clarinet-playing neighbor.

  Mainly, I needed to figure out what I was going to do about it.

  I stopped short in the kitchen. Like most weeknights after practice, I’d been ready to heat up some leftovers or toss together a sandwich. Both of my parents worked long hours so dinner was something of a free for all during the week.

  But not tonight. Tonight my mom was stirring something in a pot on the stove and the whole house smelled delicious. “What’s going on?”

  She smiled at me over her shoulder. “Welcome home, honey.”

  I stared at her. “What are you doing?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Making dinner. Jeez, it’s not that unheard of.”

  It really was—on a weekday, at least. Not to mention she was wearing real clothes—not the scrubs she wore at the hospital and not the yoga pants and sweatshirt she normally wore around the house during her free time. She looked like she was about to go out or…

  “Are we having company over?”

  Her smile turned mischievous. “Yes. And no more questions. You and your father can both be surprised by our impromptu dinner party.”

  I opened my mouth to ask questions but she was waving a tomato-sauce covered spoon in my direction. “Go on upstairs and change. They should be here soon.”

  They, it soon turned out, was Margo and her family.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Margo

  The good news? I got my phone back. The bad news? It wouldn’t stop dinging in my pocket. My dad shot me a warning look and I flashed Jason’s parents a quick, apologetic smile before digging into the pockets of my new fuzzy purple coat and switched it to silent.

  I ignored Jason as it vibrated once more in my hands and then I slipped it into my back jeans’ pocket. I could still feel it but at least it was no longer annoying us all with its incessant dinging, alerting me to new texts and notifications.

  Suzie must have gotten her phone back too, that was the only explanation for all the activity.

  “We’re so glad you could join us,” Jason’s mom said for the third time. And for the fifth time since we’d arrived my mom mentioned how pleased we were to be invited. This prompted yet another round of small talk about how long it had been since we’d gotten together as families and yadda, yadda, yadda. If the polite chit-chat kept up much longer I was going to starve to death.

  Also, if I had to stand next to Jason for one more second I was going to combust. Spontaneous combustion was a thing, right? If so, I was in danger. One stupid hug and now my hormones were all in an uproar. Standing next to him like this I was absurdly aware of the heat he gave off, of the soap smell that mixed with his natural scent and was at once supremely familiar and yet somehow totally new. When he answered my parents’ annoying questions about college applications and the football team, all I could focus on was his voice. His low, sexy-as-sin voice.

  I refused to look at him because if I did, I just knew I’d gawk. I wasn’t a subtle person by nature and there was no way I could feign nonchalance tonight in the face of that smile. If I saw one stinkin’ dimple I’d be done.

  There was no more awkward way to ruin a dinner party than to start panting from lust in your neighbors’ living room.

  For the record, I blamed the hug. Up until that hug I’d been blithely ignorant of how freakin’ good he felt, and of just how much my body liked his. There was chemistry and then there was CHEMISTRY.

  This thing I felt around Jason? It was all caps all the time.

  I finally snuck a glance in his direction as the Connollys led the way to the dining room. He was looking at his phone. Frowning down at it, actually.

  Frowning shouldn’t look so good on anyone. Yet, somehow, Jason rocked it. It gave him a dark, brooding air that was in contrast with his typical laidback hero role. I wondered idly what he’d look like if he were pissed—like, well and truly angry. Or how he’d look if he was passionate.

  How would Jason Connolly look after making out in the backseat of his car?

  Oh good Lord, someone give me a fan.

  “Brussel sprouts?” his mother asked as she pushed the platter in my direction.

  Not exactly a fan, but sure—vegetables and small-talk with Mrs. Connolly worked too. I threw myself into the conversation at dinner, which seemed to largely consist of surprising Jason with the news that my mom and his mom had worked out a deal in which I would continue to tutor him after my volunteer hours had ended.

  I snuck a few glances in Jason’s direction to see how he felt about being shanghaied with tutoring sessions but he was impossible to read. Of course Jason would be smiling politely for my mother’s benefit.

  Not that I could judge. I was doing the same thing for his mom’s benefit. They were just so darn proud of themselves. It was actually pretty cute. It seemed they’d run into one another at the grocery store earlier today and were talking about me, Jason, and college applications. Mrs. Connolly was worried about Jason’s grades as football took up so much of his time, and my mom was worried about my lack of variety in extracurricular activities.

  And so, a plan was born.

  We both nodded and smiled our way through dinner, agreeing politely that it was indeed a brilliant plan.

  Yup, brilliant. I think that was my exact word. I might have oversold my excitement in my quest to hide the weird mix of emotions that were brewing at the idea of spending even more alone time with my hottie neighbor.

  I’d already agreed to be his friend, whatever the heck that meant. I’d agreed to be his partner in his noble quest to vanquish cyberbullying at Grover High. I’d agreed to do all this while battling a severe case of physical attraction and a former childhood crush that just wouldn’t die. Quite honestly, I was impressed by my own heroics right about now.

  What more did these people want from me?

  Tutoring. That’s what they wanted.

  After dinner, perfect Jason leapt up to start clearing the table and I got up to help. As we stacked dishes, his mom told us to bring out the pie she’d bought for dinner. I followed Jason into the kitchen, which held a world of childhood memories, and set my stack of dirty dishes in the sink on top of his.

  “I’ll load the dishwasher if you want to slice up some pie,” I said. We both got to work, and holy cow this all felt way too…homey. And weirdly natural, like no time had passed since we used to hang out in this kitchen together. I shoved up my sleeves and turned on the water, my heart racing for no apparent reason other than the fact that this scene right here? This whole act of working in the kitchen together? It felt too good. Like maybe we were actually friends again or maybe even something more than that because this was just so domestic, so cozy, so—

  My phone vibrated in my back pocket for the millionth time. I’d ignored it all during dinner but now I wiped my hands off and fished it out of my back pocket.

  Before I could look at it, though, I felt Jason’s hand on my arm. I blinked up in surprise to find him frowning down at me. “I just…” He started and stopped and my heart filled the silence with its loud, persistent pounding.

  He let out a sharp exhale. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  I stared at him in confusion for a moment before I watched his gaze flicker down toward my phone. My stomach started a rapid descent as it clicked. Jason knew what all the buzzing was about…and it wasn’t good.

  I turned on my phone to find an insane amount of notifications plus about eight million texts from Suzie, Matt, and several of my band friends. Even Becky-All About Eve-Sharpton had texted me to say I had her full support.

  Full support for what?

  For homecoming queen, apparently.

  I stared at the first text, which had come from Matt an hour earlier. He’d been working late at the newspaper and had seen the list of homecoming court nominees when the principal’s assistant had posted it in the hallway. Some kind soul had taken a picture of it and posted it online so now everyone knew that I w
as on the list of nominees alongside all the expected candidates: Julia, Cara, Taylor—the usual cheerleader roundup, plus Eleanor, the student council president and brown-noser of the century. And then me. The band geek whose name was clearly added as a joke.

  “Hilarious,” I muttered.

  “I’m sorry, Margo.”

  I looked up at Jason. I lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted attempt to shrug it off, but my throat had closed up, choking me when I tried to laugh it off. At least he hadn’t had the nerve to try and pretend that my being nominated was anything other than a joke at my expense. As if anyone would ever seriously choose me to stand up there beside the perfect, handsome, popular, charming Jason Connolly.

  The thought was hysterical. So, so funny.

  I clutched my phone harder and stared at the number of notifications telling me I’d been tagged on social media. I could only imagine what they were saying. I had no doubt that there was a familiar hashtag involved. “Who did this?” I impressed myself with how calmly I’d spoken.

  Jason heaved a weary sigh but he didn’t feign ignorance. “My guess? Cara. But I don’t know for sure.”

  I nodded. That made sense. Cara had never liked me, probably because I didn’t put up with her crap. When she’d been laughing too loudly about a particularly unflattering photo of my bandmate Lisa in algebra the other day I’d told her to get bent and it hadn’t gone over well.

  I’d never been one to avoid confrontations or saying what needed to be said, and someone had to say something before poor shy Lisa burst into tears. Unfortunately for me, however, Cara didn’t fight fair. She hadn’t said anything at the time; she’d just sneered at me with ill-concealed hatred.

  Now I got it. This was her payback. Have all her friends vote me onto homecoming court so I could fail miserably and be paraded in front of them in all my ill-fitting, imperfect glory.

  “So, partner,” Jason said, moving closer and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “What’s our first move?”