by A. R. Perry
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “Get ready to blow step one out of the water, Cherry.”
I stand there watching as he bends down to grab his backpack. The muscles in his back flex, as do the ones on his arms, resembling stone more than anything. His dark hair falls across his forehead and I have to fight the urge to run over there and push it back so I can feel the silky strand between my fingers.
With one final wave, he leaves me alone. Even with him gone I can still smell his body wash. Or maybe it’s cologne. Either way, it’s a delicious mix of woodsy scents that remind me of the one time I went camping with Blythe and her family.
Ugh, I shake out my limbs. I don’t know why I’m noticing this kind of stuff about him, but I need to get it under control. He’s an old friend helping me out. That’s it. Falling for him would be a disaster of epic proportions.
This year has had enough heartbreak, I don’t need to add an unattainable guy to the mix.
Revenge is the safest route.
I just need to keep that at the forefront of my mind.
“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Blythe whines from my bed.
“Because you’re on team popular.”
She rolls over and props her head up with a hand. “I’m starting to regret that decision.”
I’m also starting to regret inviting her to come along. As expected, when I mentioned I couldn’t hang out tonight, Blythe threw a hissy fit and wouldn’t let up until I told her why. Claire couldn’t care less about what I was up to. In fact, she’s been weird and distant all week. Texts go unanswered and she never even showed for lunch on Friday.
But now is not the time to worry about friend drama and whatever crawled up her butt. I’ve done all I can for the moment. When she’s ready to talk, she’ll come to us.
Tonight I have to put my plan to the test, which requires all my attention. I’m not the best in social situations. Add in alcohol and well, I already see this failing epically.
“Would you shut up and help me pick something out?” I thumb through my clothes, searching for something that screams party but still toes the line of hooch as Carter so sweetly put it.
“I say strap on some running shoes since we’re clearly going to be murdered by some chainsaw-wielding psycho. Who throws a party in the middle of nowhere, anyway?”
“People who want to get away with it?” I whip out a pink lacy top my mother ordered for Easter pictures last year. “What about this?”
“Is this a party or high tea?”
Groaning, I slump against the wall. “If you’re so good at this, then come help.” I motion to my walk-in closet, but Blythe simply laughs, not making a move to help.
“No way. I’m not touching any part of this plan because if it goes sideways you’re gonna blame me.”
“Newsflash, it will probably go sideways no matter what. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not great at this whole fitting-in thing. That’s why you’re one of my only friends.” I smile and push off the wall.
“Eww. Rude.” She kicks her legs, rolling off the bed and landing with heavy feet. “I am exponentially more awesome than these jocks and to prove it I’m going to pick out the best party outfit any of these jockstrap-sniffing Neanderthals have ever seen.”
I smile wider because my plan worked with such little effort. Blythe is the type of person that can be set off on a rampage with the smallest nudge. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll store it all in my head tonight and let it all out later when you’re not a nervous wreck.”
Blythe reaches into my closet and pulls out a white crop top sweater. My mom bought it for me in London, but I’ve yet to wear it. She tosses me the top, then reaches into my dresser drawer and comes out with a light-wash distressed pair of high-waisted jeans. They hit me in the face and she steps back, grinning.
“Voilà” She wiggles her fingers in a cheesy impersonation of a magician. “Just call me fairy godmother.”
“You’re good.”
“I know.”
“Now what are you going to wear?” I ask, shimmying into the jeans. Skinny is right. I’ll be lucky if I get them over my butt.
“Uh. This.” Blythe motions to her body and I cringe.
There’s no way she’s serious. She can’t wear an oversize cat sweatshirt and pink sweats. She just can’t. Not tonight. Not to a party where all the most popular kids will be.
“Blythe.”
“Piper,” she deadpans.
“You can’t wear that.”
“Why not? I’m not searching for popularity. You are. Besides, I highly doubt anyone will notice me with you looking all hot.”
“At least put on a pair of my jeans.”
She twists her mouth to the side, staring at me with such boredom I’m surprised she doesn’t fall asleep.
“Please?”
“Fine.” Rolling her eyes, she reaches into my drawer, coming out with the first pair her hand meets.
Right now I’m more than thankful we’re the same size. We found out last summer when she tore her pants after slipping in the mud and my mom rushed over with a change of clothes. We would have called her mom, but she’s never home. It’s something Blythe doesn’t like to talk about. But there have been several occasions where Blythe had to leave and go pick up her mom at a bar. And over the years we’ve had tons of midweek sleepovers.
Deep down I’ve always wondered if it’s the reason she’d rather stay in the shadows of other people. She shows her real self to Claire and me, but at school, when other people are involved, a hard front goes up that’s nearly impossible to break through. I can’t imagine living with such heavy burdens.
I’ve never been more thankful for the family I was born into. And my friends.
“Thank you for coming with me.” I pull her into a tight embrace that has her groaning and shoving me away.
“Eww. Have you been personality-swapped or something? Since when have I been a hugger?” She pries me off her and I grin, thankful for how wonderful my friends are. “Whatever.” She clears her throat, sliding the jeans through her hands. “So, what’s going on with your face? Did your pillow beat you up?”
I burst out laughing as I check my face in the mirror. After spending a couple of hours at the gym, I came home and crashed hard. Streaks of black mar my cheeks from where my mascara smudged and my hair is in total disarray.
“I might need more of your fairy godmother pixie dust.” I pick up a knotted strand of my hair and let it fall. “Unless this is the new ‘it’ look?”
“It’s not, but never fear. There has never been a makeup emergency I couldn’t fix. Remember Claire’s allergic reaction to glitter at homecoming last year? You can’t even tell how broken-out her face was in the pictures.”
“Guess we should be thankful your YouTube watch list has nothing on it but makeup tutorials.”
“If only we could get the cheerleaders to do the same thing we might get them to put down the bronzer.”
I giggle as she drags me into the bathroom. “Don’t go too crazy. Carter said I should go for subtle, not full-blown makeover.”
Her mouth twists to the side as she comes at me with a makeup remover cloth. “Are you sure he’s giving you the best tips to snag your so-called crush or is he speaking from his heart?”
I snort at the idea of Carter ever seeing me as someone other than little Princess Cherry. As he loves to point out, I was a total goofball when we used to be friends. Besides, he wouldn’t be helping me win over his friend if there was anything between us.
Except…I can’t seem to forget the way my heart did weird acrobatic tricks when we were alone together. I also can’t stop noticing the way his built frame moves through the halls with ease or how he’s never once been a jerk to anyone, including those who are deemed at the bottom of the popularity pool.
“Trust me. It’s just an old friend helping out.”
“If you say so,” Blythe drawls as she
gets to work on my tangled mane. “Don’t let your one-track mind blind you. That's all I’m saying.”
“My one-track mind is keeping me safe. Even if in some alternate reality Carter and I somehow hooked up, it would never work. He’s got the whole tall, dark, and sporty godlike thing going on. And I…don’t.”
Blythe pauses in the middle of what she’s doing and stares down at me. “Are you positive you don’t want to be in that world? This whole experiment can’t have come out of nowhere.”
“It came out of heartbreak,” I mumble to my clasped hands.
Blythe crouches in front of me and grabs my shoulders. “John is a dick for doing what he did the way he did it. But as far as I can tell, you’re better off without him. Why be with someone who won’t appreciate you the way you are? I don’t want you to lose sight of that. Don’t go altering who you are to win this bet with yourself if you forget how awesome you are.”
I roll my eyes, shaking her off. “Be careful, you’re starting to sound like Claire.”
Blythe winks as she once again starts working on my hair. “It was bound to happen one day.”
As Blythe beautifies me, I can’t help but focus on what she said. Am I changing who I am because I’m sick of being on the sidelines? When I went into this, I was certain it was to prove a point, but now I’m not so sure. The worst part is I’ve involved not only my two best friends, but Carter and Nash. They’re innocent in this, and if I keep it up, they might be the ones hurt.
Gah. Maybe I should call it quits before I get in too deep.
I nod to myself as Blythe picks up a curling iron. Yeah. I’ll pull Carter aside tonight and tell him the plan is off.
Nash and Jordan slam down the keg at my feet. Everyone will arrive in a few minutes. Soon the entire field will be packed with bodies. As long as we don’t get too rowdy or cross the fence line we won’t get thrown out or have the cops called on us.
This is the distraction I normally need after a day at home, arguing with my dad about where my life is going. But as seconds tick by, I can’t snuff out the weird, twisting sensation in my stomach. This is the first party Piper will be attending all of high school and I’m supposed to be some dating Yoda—I’m supposed to help her win the guy but the mere thought of her and Nash together lights up my chest with ferocious irritation. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I was going to dish out a few pointers and dip out. But man, being around her has a strange calming effect. And I can’t deny the tug of attraction toward her, which is weird because this is little Cherry! No way I can go there.
“Still can’t believe the cashier never cards you,” I say with a shake of my head, focusing on the here and now and not the adorable girl who somehow invaded my brain in such a short amount of time.
“He’s a friend of my cousin,” Nash says as he taps the keg with a finger. “I won the lottery with that one.”
“I appreciate it,” Jordan says as he drops a bag of red plastic cups on the ground. “Question is, which one of these girls will want to thank you enough?”
Scrubbing a palm over my jaw, I focus on the dark road. This is not a conversation I want to be a part of. She’ll be here any minute and with each agonizing one that passes, a flicker of excitement grows. We haven’t spoken face-to-face since the other night at her house. Now it seems there is an insatiable need to hear her voice. And at the moment that need is battling with the reality that tonight is the night Piper makes her first move. Tonight is when she gets Nash to notice her.
I can only pray she isn’t wearing those damn shorts. Yes, they’re sexy. And yes, I told her not to wear them out of pure selfishness. If she waltzed in here with those on, every guy in the area would be all over her. I didn’t want to spend the entire night fighting off hound dogs.
“What’s got you so worked up?” Jordan asks with a shove of his elbow.
“What are you talking about?” I glance at the clock on my phone. She should be here by now.
“I’m talking about how you’re standing here with the veins in your neck about to burst. You worried Cristy is gonna show? ‘Cause Bethany mentioned she’s dating some hockey douche from another school.”
I tilt my head toward him, a bored expression on my face. “Since when did you become a gossip queen?”
He throws his hands up in the air. “Hey, I can’t help what I overhear. But seriously, what crawled up your ass and died?”
My mouth opens, then shuts when I catch sight of flowing red hair. Piper’s in the center of a group, making their way down to us. Her face is to the side and the way the moonlight plays on her delicate features is almost angelic.
She laughs at something a girl next to her says and a jolt much like being slammed in the chest by a helmet rocks my insides.
“Dang, is that Piper?” Jordan asks, his gaze traveling over her in a hungry wave.
I snap out of it and focus on him. “Guess so.”
“What’s she doing here? I haven’t seen her at a party…ever.”
“How am I supposed to know?” I turn, bending down and arranging the cups on the ground just so I have something to do.
“She looks good. Really good. I might have to take a crack at her if none of the cheer girls show.”
“Back off,” I snap, crushing a cup in my hand. The noise and my outburst draw Nash’s attention and he arches an eyebrow. “I’m just saying give the girl some space. You don’t need to pee on every fire hydrant.”
Jordan’s eyes remain narrowed, but he nods. “I can try.”
“And catch every venereal disease known to man,” Nash mumbles which draws Jordan’s attention to him, giving me two seconds to breathe before there are bodies everywhere.
I stand and seek Piper, my attention drawn to her as if she’s a magnet and I’m a piece of metal. I notice she’s hanging by the dilapidated fence, her head bent and in deep conversation with her friend. When she glances up, I raise my arms in a what are you doing? gesture. Her wide eyes flit from Nash to me. With one hand I beckon her and she rolls her lower lip between her teeth. Come on, I mouth. Even from here, I can see the deep breath she takes before moving our way.
Good girl.
When she gets closer to the warm flames of the bonfire dancing at my back, I’m relieved that she’s listened to my advice. Gone are the sexpot shorts. In place is a tight pair of blue jeans with holes in the knees. Standard attire for most of the school, but Piper has somehow made them appear sexier with a white cropped sweater that hugs her tiny waist. She’s wearing white tennis shoes unlike most of the girls here, which keeps her a foot shorter than me—the perfect angle that forces her to tilt her face up so she can meet my gaze.
“Hey,” she whispers, her eyelashes batting a couple of times before she turns to face her friend. “This is Blythe.”
I tear my eyes away even though they want to continue drinking her in and focus on her friend. “Welcome. Can I get you ladies something to drink?”
They stare at each other in what appears to be a silent conversation before Blythe grunts with a wave of her hand.
“Whatever you have,” Piper says with a dazzling smile.
“Beer?”
“Sure.”
“Is that Piper?” Nash asks when I turn around to grab two cups. “Dayum, she looks good.”
The red plastic crinkles in my hands, but I force a smile. This is what Piper wants. If I told her his reaction, she would be ecstatic.
“I guess she got bored with hiding in her room and studying.” What am I saying? Nerd girl is not the image we’re going for. “I mean, it’s a pleasant surprise is all.”
Nash’s brows furrow. “Yeah. Well, sweet.” He slaps me on the back before heading off toward a group of our teammates.
I cringe as Piper tracks his every move. He’s walked right past her without a greeting. All because my mouth went unchecked. And what was with that reaction, anyway? Why does it bother me so much? There’s nothing wrong with Nash liking Piper. Hell, Piper can go after whoever she
wants, too. It’s not as if she’s my girl.
My girl.
The words bounce around in my head and I have to admit, I like the sound of them way too much. More than I should.
I roll out my neck and catch Jordan staring her way. Great. I’ll need a bat to beat off all these vultures.
“Is that Blythe?” he asks.
Oh, thank God. “Yeah. She’s Piper’s friend.” I turn to see Blythe is glaring our way. “Dude, what did you do to her?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing. She’s in my bio class.”
“And you did what exactly? ‘Cause she’s staring at you as if she hopes your head will explode.”
Jordan laughs and shoves me. “Just a misunderstanding is all.” With those parting words, he leaves me to finish filling up the cups.
As I’m topping them off, feet crunch on the ground. When I glance up Piper is standing next to me smiling. “I figured I should come over here to see if you needed help since it’s taking you so long. Filling a cup can be tricky.”
I grin and pass one over to her. “It took a few tries to figure out, but I think I got it.”
She grins, flashing me her perfect teeth before taking a drink. Her cute little nose crunches up, and she makes a weird noise.
“This your first time or something?”
“Come to think of it, I haven’t had many opportunities to get my hands on cheap beer.”
“Well. thank God I came to your rescue. then.”
“What would I do without you?” She gazes around the field, stopping on her friend who seems to be texting up a storm. “So…what now?”
“Now,” I sigh, “we need to get you in Nash’s line of sight. He noticed you when you walked over, but he has the attention span of a goldfish.”
“About that…” Her pointer finger swirls over the rim of the plastic cup in her hand, over and over in a mesmerizing pattern.
“Don’t tell me you changed your mind already? I was under the impression you were too brave to chicken out so soon.” I jump my eyebrows as her eyes narrow. No clue why I’m egging this on. If she backed out, it would be a blessing. But if she did give up, it might mean we’d stop being friendly and that…well, I’d miss it.