Unbreakable (Accidental Crush #3)

by Adrienne Torrisi

  He automatically tightens his muscles at the unexpected chill of the cool paint caressing his warm skin. I look up at him, our eyes lock, and he gives me his crooked smile. In that moment, I feel like we are alone. I forget that Ryan is here or that we are standing in the middle of the boys’ locker room. It’s just us, doing something ridiculous yet extremely intimate. I feel so close to him, and I know he feels the same way. His look says it all. We don’t need to speak; we just know.

  “Let’s go, Taylor. What are you waiting for?” Brian’s voice jerks me out of my moment with Todd.

  Coming back to reality, I realize that everyone else is done, and I only have one third of my H done.

  Todd gives me a knowing smile.

  “Sorry,” I mutter as I quickly slide my fingers back into the paint and then across the contours of his chest to finish my letter.

  “It’s a little crooked, Ash Bug,” Ryan says, critiquing my work with a laugh.

  I give him a look. “That’s what happens when you rush artistic genius.”

  “It’s perfect,” Todd says as he admires my work from above. Thankfully, he can’t really see it, because Ryan is right; it’s totally crooked.

  “Okay, let’s go. You girls need to leave,” Brian says, never losing sight of the goal. I guess that’s what makes him such a great quarterback. “And we need to hide the evidence,” he says to the guys. “Bye, I love you,” he says to Blythe quickly and as if it’s habit.

  I give Todd a quick glance. Brian is in such work mode I don’t even think he realizes what he just said.

  They rush to usher us out, of course checking the hallway before we enter the rest of the unknowing student body. Everyone is still in zombie-like mode, walking to their lockers; they have no idea what they are about to witness when the boys emerge from the locker room.

  “Has he said that before?” I whisper to Blythe.

  “No,” she answers with shock-filled eyes.

  Gretch may have missed the exchange, but it’s clear Blythe didn’t.

  “Wow,” I say with a smile. “He loves you.”

  “He was in a rush,” Blythe quickly dismisses it.

  I give her a smile. “He said it.”

  She rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t lose her smile, and I know she’s happy.

  We just had a very interesting, surprisingly intimate morning, and the look that passes between the three of us as we all part ways sums it up perfectly.

  “See ya at lunch,” I say as we are suddenly thrust back into life-as-usual.

  As I make my way to the sophomore hallway, and approach my locker, I announce, “Prepare yourselves.”

  Sid and Shane are so use to Spirit Week and the boys doing insane things that they go on with putting books in their lockers, unfazed.

  “Let’s just say they’ve topped even themselves,” I continue.

  “Oh, yeah?” Shane comments without any interest being piqued. “Looks like you’re full of evidence.” He gestures to my hands and arms.

  I didn’t realize it, but I’m covered in golden glitter, and my fingers are still black. I start to laugh. I guess the glitter is contagious. “What, this? Just showing school spirit,” I try to play it off.

  Sid rolls her eyes with a headshake and a smile. “Uh-huh, sure.”

  On those words, we hear hooting and hollering coming from down the hallway, and I immediately know. I don’t even need to turn around, but of course I do.

  The world goes into slow motion. If this were a movie, this would be where the entire room freezes as a mysterious breeze blows through the hallway, blowing their perfect hair as they strut in extreme slow motion down the hall. The entire hallway parts for them, leaving a clear path to walk down. But this isn’t a movie; it’s even better because it’s reality.

  The three of them are walking side by side, every inch of them gold with their chests spelling EHS. There are so many hoots and hollers that’s all you hear. It’s a sea of high-fives and fist pumps, a sparkling golden sea of perfection. Then the entire hallway erupts into an E-H-S chant. It’s as if the three of them are conductors, guiding and inspiring the swarm of students that have gathered with the commotion.

  I can no longer see them; there are so many people surrounding them. I look down the senior hallway and catch a glance from Blythe and Gretch, and we all exchange quick smiles.

  The crowd looks like a giant wave as it follows them down the hall. I wish I could see their faces. I’m sure they love every second of this.

  “Do I even want to know?” Sid asks.

  “Probably not.” I smile at the memory of painting Todd’s chest.

  The cheers stop abruptly along with the ebb and flow of the crowd and then loud, screeching electronic reverb breaks through the murmurs.

  “Mr. Taylor, Mr. Hamilton, and Mr. Johnson, please report to my office, right now,” Principal Mark’s voice shouts through a bullhorn.

  “Uh-oh,” I say, glancing at Sid and Shane.

  “You better wash your hands.” Shane gestures toward the evidence.

  TODD

  The feeling of walking down the hall and seeing the excitement of the crowd is incredible, almost as great as having Ash paint my chest. I need to save that paint. I also need to make sure we meet up in the locker room. I can’t believe the guys have never mentioned that before.

  Now, sitting here in Principal Mark’s office, full of gold glitter, wearing only football pants, suddenly makes a brilliant idea seem pretty stupid. Ryan, Brian, and I haven’t said a word out loud to one another. Instead, we have been communicating through looks and glances.

  “What the fuck?” Brian mouths to me and Ryan.

  “Language, Mr. Johnson,” Mrs. Batmore, the principal’s secretary who must be at least one hundred, says in her high-pitched voice that wavers just because she’s so old.

  Brian shrugs innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Mouthing it counts, too,” she says with a stern look over her half-moon glasses as another student turns the corner to join our group.

  “MC!” we all shout, startling Mrs. B. She quickly adjusts her sweater with a disgusted eye roll.

  Mark Conner just walked in dressed as a condom in support of our school mascot, since we are the Trojans—the warriors, not the condoms, but there’s always at least one on spirit day, and this year it is MC.

  “Nice,” Brian says with admiration at the balls it took to wear that.

  “Right back at ya, boys.” Mark nods as he sits next to me. “I had to carry on the Barry Richards tradition.” He gestures to the large latex suit covering his body. There is a hole for his face, but the rest looks like he’s wearing a latex dress with a nude bodysuit underneath.

  We are interrupted by someone clearing their throat, and we all look in the direction of that sound. Shit.

  Standing there is Principal Marks and Coach W.

  We are screwed.

  We all immediately stand up, showing respect for Coach.

  “Coach—” Brian starts.

  “Stop.” He eyes all of us, the disappointment clear. “Did you think this was a good idea?”

  We glance at one another. Even Brian knows not to answer that question.

  “None of you are starting tonight. You will sit out for the first quarter.”

  “But, Coach—” Mark and Brian start.

  “You’re lucky it’s just the first quarter.” Coach glances at Principal Marks, and it’s clear he wanted more.

  “Scouts are coming to the game to watch us play,” Mark continues to argue.

  “Then you should have thought about that before. Think about the example you’re setting for the younger players as Captains of this team.”

  “But it’s Spirit Day; we’re just showing school spirit,” Brian says in rebuttal.

  “Next time, do it with clothes on.” Coach W. glares at all of us with the kind of glare you don’t respond to. “First quarter. You better make the other three count,” Coach continues, and then he
looks at Brian. “Johnny will start.”

  Brian doesn’t react, but I can tell he’s fuming.

  “I hope you all have clothes you can change into. I’m guessing you didn’t come to school dressed like this. It’s game day; you are supposed to wear your jerseys. I suggest you put those on. And next time you want to parade around half naked, leave your football pants out of it.” Coach is not having any of it. He doesn’t even crack a smile.

  He nods to Principal Marks. I can see how red his neck is, which tells me just how angry he is.

  Then he leans into us and whispers, “And I know about the locker room this morning. You’re lucky I’m the only one.” He glances back to Principal Marks with a smile. It’s obvious that last comment went over his head, thankfully.

  My stomach is currently in my throat. I couldn’t speak if I wanted to, so I just nod to Coach, making it clear I understand.

  It’s one thing for me to get in trouble, but I don’t want Ash or the other girls to go down for this.

  ASHLEY

  I’m in homeroom when my phone buzzes. We’re technically not supposed to check phones in any class, but homeroom is the most lenient, so I nonchalantly check it.

  When I see Todd’s name, my stomach drops.

  Huge trouble. None of us are starting in the game tonight. Changing clothes now. You are fine, but Coach saw.

  “Shit,” I say out loud without realizing. I know scouts for Penn State and a few other schools are going to be there, and I know this is not good. They will definitely ask why the starters aren’t starting. My parents are going to freak.

  I see Shane reach for his phone then watch him check his text. He looks back at me quickly, and I know he knows something. Then I feel my phone buzz again; this time from Shane.

  Johnny is starting? WTF?

  When Shane turns back to me with a questioning look, I shrug and mouth, “After Class.”

  We don’t need anyone else to get in trouble.

  Chapter 7: The Aftershock

  ASHLEY

  The rest of the day is uneventful compared to this morning. The boys don’t have time to shower, so they have to put their jerseys over all the glitter and paint, leaving all three of their jerseys a mess. Even when they finally do shower at the end of the day, the glitter doesn’t really come out of their hair. Luckily, they wear helmets, because glitter and football don’t really go together. Unfortunately, they have a meet and greet after the game with all the scouts who have expressed interest, so the glitter should be interesting to explain.

  It’s tradition for the players’ girlfriends to wear their away jerseys at the homecoming game, so I am wearing Todd’s jersey and loving every second of it. Of course, it’s more like a dress than a shirt, but I wouldn’t trade wearing it for anything. Even though I’m sure it’s been washed many times, it still smells like him, so wearing it makes me feel closer to him, closer to the game.

  Blythe makes her way over to me on the bleachers wearing Brian’s jersey, and she actually is wearing it as a dress with black, ripped tights and a belt. All of the cheerleaders with boyfriends on the team put their jerseys on over their uniforms, so Gretch has Ryan’s tied in a knot to show her skirt and mid-drift clearly. It seems like the players make sure they have girlfriends before the game, because almost every girl is wearing someone’s football jersey.

  “Nice.” I gesture to what Blythe has done with the jersey look.

  She shrugs and smiles. “I had to do something, and I know he’d kill me if I cut it up or did anything to it.”

  “Very true. Plus, he’s already in enough trouble.”

  She gives a guilty smile and then starts searching the crowd on the field for Brian.

  I turn to whisper to Shane whose gaze is locked on Johnny. “You should have worn his jersey. That’d be the perfect way to come out and make a statement.”

  “Funny, Ash,” he says, not laughing.

  “I’m serious,” I say, leaning back on the bleacher behind me.

  “She’s right, Shaney,” Sid says, figuring out what we are talking about. She’s on the other side of Shane, her eyes scanning the band to find Simon.

  Sid and Simon are still going strong. At least he’s not a senior, so they have lots of time left together. I start to feel bad for myself when Blythe and Shane interrupt my wallowing by both leaning into me.

  “I can’t believe he is here,” Shane says at the same time Blythe says, “Looks like we’ve got company.” As soon as Sid sees him, she grunts.

  I look up to see what they are talking about, and my eyes land on Casey standing at the bottom of the bleachers.

  When he gives me a head nod, I give him a small wave and a smile, but whisper back to them through gritted teeth, keeping my eyes locked on him. “Well, we are playing his school.”

  “Ashley Taylor,” he shouts in front of everyone, and my stomach does a flip.

  I know my cheeks are bright red. I instantly want to shrink down; instead, I give him a WTF type of shrug and pray to God the players on the field can’t hear him.

  “Come down here,” he continues to shout over everyone’s heads from the front of the bleachers.

  Thankfully, the game is starting and most people are paying attention to that. Unfortunately, Todd is on the sideline warming up, so even though he’s in the zone and doesn’t hear Casey yet, chances are pretty good it’s only a matter of time. I don’t want to do anything that could mess up this game for him, since I know how important it is, and he’s already sitting out the first quarter. As a result, I start to get up, knowing Casey won’t stop shouting.

  I feel Sid’s arm pull me back. “What are you doing?”

  At first, guilt flashes over me, but he is my friend, my teammate, and I should be able to go say hi without an explanation, so that feeling quickly transitions to anger.

  “I’m going to say hi.”

  Sid gestures with her head toward the field. I know exactly what she means without her saying a word. I also know there needs to be trust there, or this will never work, and I know Todd trusts me.

  I pull my arm away from her. “Don’t, Sid.” I try to make it as clear as possible with my look that she is overstepping, even if she is my best friend. Then I start to make my way down through the crowd of people to meet up with him.

  “Hey, Ashley Taylor.”

  “Hey?” I say with a questioning tone. “What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to say hi.”

  “We could have done that from where I was.”

  “Well, I wanted to say hi closely.” With that, he steps closer and sort of stumbles. I’m pretty sure he’s been drinking.

  My gaze instantly shifts to where Todd is warming up, and I see he hasn’t noticed. He’s pretty focused on his warm-ups, so my heart slows back to a steady beat.

  Casey sees the direction of my gaze and quickly tries to intercept. “Let’s go for a walk. Let me buy you a hot dog.” He wraps his arm around me and guides me toward the concession stand.

  I instinctively look up to the bleachers, and my eyes lock with Sid’s, her look saying everything I’m feeling. I know if Todd sees me with Casey like this, he will be pissed, and I need his focus to be on the game. Then the opposite thought flashes through my head: if he doesn’t do well in the game, maybe he won’t go away to school, and then he can stay home. I quickly shake my head to erase that thought, though.

  What is wrong with me? I need to pull it together.

  “Come on, Ashley Taylor. Just a walk if you don’t want a hot dog.” He thrusts his hips, and with the way he says it, he definitely isn’t talking about the food at the concession stand.

  “You are disgusting, but fine, a walk.” I give one last glance over at Todd who is still in deep focus on his warm-ups.

  Keeping his arm around me as we walk, Casey squeezes me in closer to him, and it’s now clear he’s been drinking; I can smell the alcohol.

  As we walk, I’m shocked at how many people say hi to him, pat him on the sh
oulder, or give him fist bumps. I always assumed but never observed just how popular he is. Even people from our school light up when they see him and everyone from his does. Girls hang on him as we walk by. Just by their smiles and the way they look up at him, it’s obvious they all want him. And every single one of them gives me the insta-once-over with a scowl, but it’s always quickly erased with a fake, forced smile.

  A tall girl whose all legs—and I know this because her shorts are so short that’s all I can see—pushes her way between us to drape her arms around Casey. “I thought you were sitting with me tonight,” she says with a pout as she plays with her stick straight, bleach-blonde hair.

  “Viv, I am just saying hi to my swim partner.” I see his hand cup her butt before he smiles toward me. “Ashley, meet Vivian. Vivian, Ashley.”

  She gives me the same fake smile as the others. “Nice to meet you.”

  I only smile back. Why even waste words on her?

  “I’ll be back,” Casey says as he removes himself from her grasp. Then he drapes his arm right back around me as if it belongs there.

  It doesn’t.

  “She seems nice,” I say, meaning just the opposite.

  “Jealous?” he asks, reading my tone perfectly.

  “You wish,” I retort without even thinking.

  I feel him stiffen. I didn’t mean for that to sting, but I can tell by his tense hold that it did.

  “Sorry. I was just kidding.”

  “I know.” He nuzzles his head into my shoulder. I need to stop him. I know he’s just drunk, but there are too many people here.

  I grip my shirt and feel the cool paint that makes up the number eighteen on Todd’s jersey. It’s the perfect reminder of him.

  “Do you know you are the only girl who has ever turned me down?” Casey says as he continues to nuzzle into me.

  I can’t believe he’s going there right now, in the middle of the game. I don’t even know what to say, so I don’t say anything.

  He pulls away and looks down at me as he runs his hand through his shaggy, blonde hair, his green eyes locked on mine. “It’s true, you know.”