Popularity is Just an Equation

by A. R. Perry

  “Bite me, Davis.”

  “Tell me where.”

  Blythe flashes us the middle finger before taking a seat on an adjacent table and pulling out her phone.

  “What’s that about?” Piper whispers, sending a shiver down my spine when her breath tickles my neck.

  Yeah, so being this close is a terrible idea. I remove my arm and take a step to the side to clear my thoughts. “No clue.”

  “What’s up, Red?” Jordan holds a fist up for her to bump, which she obliges.

  “Hope you don’t mind me crashing. I’ve always wanted to play and when Carter mentioned it, I figured why not now?” She smiles at me, but there’s an edge to it.

  “You’re gonna play in that?” Nash asks, with an almost accusatory finger pointed at her.

  Leave it to Nash to be more worried about how she’s going to play instead of the fact that a hot girl wants to hang out and get shot by paintballs.

  Whoa.

  Hot? When did she go from adorable to hot?

  I squeeze the back of my neck and force a smile. I need to rein myself in.

  “Oh, um…I guess I didn’t think about that.” She glances down at her skintight black jeans and rocker T-shirt.

  Nash is right. It’s not practical for paintball and will hurt like hell when she gets hit. “You can wear my extra jersey.”

  She nods, tugging on the belt loops of her pants as she casts a glance over her shoulder at Blythe. Her friend smiles and gives her a thumbs-up.

  I wonder if she’s told her all about this master plan to win over Nash. I’m guessing so since they are pretty much inseparable.

  “You’re letting Red wear one of your jerseys?” Jordan asks as I dig around in my gear bag. Last year we played a couple tournaments and walked away with some awesome loot.

  “Yeah. Why not?” I ask, leveling him with a glare. Since when is he all up in my business?

  “Isn’t that the high school version of putting a ring on it?”

  I stare at the fabric in my hand. There’s no doubt she would look hot in it. Even better if it was my football jersey. But so what? It’s a piece of clothing. Jordan is crazy if he thinks it means more than that.

  “You’re an idiot,” I say, walking past him.

  Piper is standing next to Nash, laughing at something he says. With a whistle, I toss the jersey her way. “It’s gonna be way too big, but at least you’ll be protected.”

  “Thanks.” She smiles and slips it on.

  As expected, it swallows up her petite frame. She has to roll the sleeves up to free her hands, and the hem dang near hits her knees.

  “Now what?” she asks, looking at the three of us expectantly.

  “Now we get on the field before I have to go home,” Nash says and he picks up his gun. “My mom’s all over me about homework and junk.”

  “Aww. Sweet little mama’s boy,” Jordan sings in a high-pitched, mocking tone.

  “Shut up,” Nash grumbles on his way to the field.

  Piper watches the interaction with a twinkle in her eyes. When her gaze lands on me, she grins.

  “Wait. Why don’t you help her gear up?” I grab Nash’s arm before he gets too far. She’s here for a reason, and that reason is to bond with Nash. So far, I’ve done a terrible job of making that happen.

  “Isn’t that what the front desk people are for?”

  “Don’t be a jerk.” I level him with my best glare, but all he does is shrug his shoulders and jog out onto the field.

  Piper surprises me by laughing. “I don’t think your grand plan is working.”

  “You could help her gear up.” Blythe says, her phone forgotten at her side as she watches us.

  If I’m not mistaken, there’s a mischievous tilt to her lips, but before I can read too much into it, she glances away. “Yeah. I can help you. We’ll just make sure you end up on his team.” I whisper the last part, partly because I’m not sure if Blythe is in on Piper’s plan, but also because I’m curious if my proximity affects her the way it affects me.

  She tenses when my lips brush the edge of her ear and then she clears her throat, stepping away. “Sounds like a plan.”

  I can’t stop the grin from forming on my face. Even though I know there’s no chance for us, it’s good to confirm I’m not the only one noticing this weird energy between us.

  “So…” Piper glides her fingers over my gun. “What do I need?”

  “I got you a loaner.” I hold it up for her to see. “You can borrow one of my masks.”

  She arches a brow and stares down at all the stuff on the table. “I feel like Rambo or something.”

  “Just wait till you get out there.” I grab an older mask, a custom Push Unite Nash got me for my birthday and hold it out to her.

  She eyes it with skepticism before reaching out. When her fingers brush against mine, I almost drop the dang thing. Never in all my years of dating have I reacted to a girl this way. It’s almost as if a bolt of electricity shot up the entire length of my arm.

  “And how does one put this on?” she asks, oblivious to my reaction as she fingers the two colorful straps.

  I shake my head, hoping it will help me focus. She must have been full of static or something. Yeah. That explains it.

  “Here.” I take the mask and place it on her head, careful not to touch her just in case and slide it down so it covers her face. “Keep it on the whole time we’re out there.” I pick up the gun. “Hopper. This is where the paintballs go.” I point to the top. “Trigger.” I once again point. “That should be obvious. Keep the barrel condom on whenever you’re off the field.” I snap the colorful fabric covering the barrel of the gun. “That's just so you don’t accidentally shoot someone.”

  She nods along with my words, seeming to pay attention to the brief instructions, but it’s hard to tell with her eyes concealed by the dark tint of the mask.

  “Are we playing or what?” Nash calls from the field.

  Jordan is geared and waiting as well, and he holds his hands up as if to say hurry up.

  “I think I got this.” She takes the gun from me, gingerly cradling it against her body in a way that makes me think she’s more nervous than she’s letting on.

  “It will be awesome.” I pull on my mask and grab my gun. “But since you’re now my enemy, I can’t promise to go easy on you.”

  The plastic covering her mouth muffles her laugh, but something in her posture tells me she won’t be going down without a fight. She was super competitive when we were younger. A spark of excitement runs through me. I always love a good competition.

  “Took you long enough,” Jordan grumbles as we walk onto the field.

  We’ve got the place to ourselves for now because the owner is a friend of Jordan’s dad, but it won’t be long until other groups roll in. I feel kinda bad for holding us up, but at the same time, this is to benefit Nash and Piper so if that means a few minutes wasted, then so be it.

  “You good?” Nash asks, his face pointed in Piper’s direction.

  “I think so.” She fumbles with the gun, propping the air tank on her hip. “Go easy on me the first round, would ya?”

  “Not a chance, Red.” Jordan smacks Nash on the shoulder as he backs up. “This will be the easiest win ever.”

  I can’t see Piper’s face, but I’m positive she’s glaring at him. She growls, falling in line beside me. “Let’s wipe the floor with them.”

  I grin, walking backward to the starting point. The plan was to have her on Nash’s team, but maybe this will work out better. They might end up bonding over their crazy competitiveness.

  The ref who had been on his phone while we goofed off holds up an air horn. Three seconds later the silence is interrupted by a loud bwaat sound signaling the start of the game.

  I sprint toward the nearest Dorito bunker and Piper follows suit, pressing her shoulder to mine. Knowing Nash, he’s already in the snake waiting for his time to strike. Jordan is far more ballsy, so it won’t surprise me i
f he’s planning a strike up the center of the field.

  “Cover the left side,” I shout to Piper as I lean to the side. “Shoot anything that moves.”

  Movement in the middle of the field draws my attention. I let off a few rounds, covering us as Piper gets her bearings. She curses, and in the time it takes me to glance over and realize her barrel condom is still on, Nash and Jordan flank us and take us out in a seamless move.

  “Crap,” Piper huffs as she straightens and pockets the little piece of fabric that screwed us over. “Let’s go again.”

  “You sure you’re ready for this?” Nash asks, arms wide.

  “You’re going down,” she replies, the gun propped on her hip again as if it’s too heavy for her petite arms as she walks backward.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  She nods as we both position our guns toward the wall, signaling we’re ready to go.

  “Try to run to the left,” I shout as the horn goes off.

  This time she doesn’t hesitate and even lets a few rounds fly as she dives behind a can bunker, sliding across the turf in a show of fearlessness. Cristy never would be caught dead out here, let alone smearing herself in paint. For a second, I’m in awe and completely distracted until I hear her shout that someone is advancing on us.

  Before I react, she stands tall and I hear a curse from my right. Jordan’s chest is lit up like a Christmas tree, and he’s shaking his head as orange drips down his jersey. No doubt being beat by a newb has him raging.

  I laugh and round my bunker, knowing once again where Nash is hiding. He’s more predictable than my dad. I run up the middle and slide behind another bunker, but almost slam my face into the ground when a tiny figure beats me there.

  “Didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did you?” Piper asks as she army crawls to the edge of the inflatable.

  An unstoppable grin takes over my face as I trail behind her, wanting to see how she’ll handle this situation. She’s taking to it like a fish to water, which shouldn’t be surprising to me. When it comes to life, Piper always gives her all. For crying out loud, she’s trying to rebound with the most popular guy in school after spending three years in the shadows. Fearless is the only word that comes to mind.

  “He’s in the…” She gestures with her gun.

  “Snake,” I supply for her. Playing paintball is easier when you know the terminology.

  “Right.” She peeks over the edge but drops with a slight squeak as a paintball explodes over her head, raining down on us both with orange flecks. “Okay. You go right, I’ll go left. He won’t expect both of us.”

  I nod and crawl into position. “On the count of three. One…two…three!”

  We both jump up, unloading paint in Nash’s direction. I run and slide on the other side of the snake where he’s hiding, but Piper goes all the way, running around the edge and letting out a triumphant shout when she bunkers him.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Nash yells as he jumps up and whips off his mask. He’s clearly upset because he hates losing, but he’s also smiling and shaking his head. “Lucky shot.”

  “You wish, Anderson.” She whips off her mask and does a dorky little curtsy.

  “You didn’t tell us you were bringing a shark,” Jordan says as he joins us on the field.

  “That was awesome!” I can’t stop myself, I run to her and wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her up in the air. “Tell me you’ll come every weekend.”

  She rests a hand on my shoulder as the other lifts my mask. “I think y’all need more practice to get on my level.”

  Our eyes meet, hers are sparkling as she giggles and for a second time stops. My heart flips so hard it almost knocks the wind out of me. An aching, desperate sensation takes over my lips and all I want to do is lean forward the few inches separating us and press my mouth to hers. This girl is unexpected and adorable and sexy as hell in my jersey and…mine.

  I shake the thought out of my head and set her down, taking a huge step away. “You’re right. I think we need some time to lick our wounds. It’s not every day a newb comes in here and owns us.”

  “Yeah, we’re going to a burger joint down the street after we’re done if you want to—”

  “No,” I cut off Nash and fix my gaze on the wall over Piper’s head, but I do catch the weird look Nash is giving me out of my peripheral vision. “The three of us going out is tradition. Can’t mess that up. You get it, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure.” She bends down to pick up my discarded mask. “I’ll just leave your stuff by the bag. Or I could wash your jersey. I got it all dirty.”

  “It’s fine.” I shoot a glance her way, but quickly avert again when I see how she’s looking at me. Disappointment is etched all over her face.

  “Oh, okay. Well, I’ll catch you guys later, I guess.”

  She trudges off the field, and it’s not until she’s out of sight that Nash bumps me with his shoulder. “What the heck was that about?”

  “What do you mean?” I won’t look at him. He’s my best friend and can read me like a book. Right now he doesn’t need to see how much I want his girl.

  “She could have come. We don’t mind.”

  I slip on my mask, physically and metaphorically. “Are we gonna talk all day or are we gonna play?”

  Nash and Jordan glance at each other, but I’m already walking toward the opposite end of the field. Our private time is up and people are filing in, helping me disappear into the crowd. The guys might not need to lick their wounds after that epic smackdown, but I sure as hell do. I’m an idiot for allowing myself to fall for Piper. What I should focus on is football and school so I can get out of this town.

  I knew helping her out was a bad idea. Now I just have to find a way to get myself off the hook and let her down easy. Maybe all I need to do is give these two a big push in the right direction.

  Carter is avoiding me.

  Ever since his callous and out of nowhere dismissal after our win at the paintball field, he’s been radio silent. All my texts go unanswered and when we pass each other in the hall, it’s with a wide berth as if he might catch my unpopularity. He won’t look my way in class, much to Cristy’s delight judging from her smirks.

  For a second there when he had me pressed to his hard chest, I felt something. The something Blythe has been going on and on about. It almost seemed as if he was into me and not hanging around to help me out. Then he ignored me, just as he did at the start of freshman year.

  So, when I walk into school on Wednesday morning and he’s leaning against my locker, I almost trip over my own feet, catching my books before they spill everywhere.

  “Hey.” There’s no smile, but at least he’s looking at me. More like looking through me, but it’s better than nothing.

  “Hey…” I tug on the strap of my bag, so I have something to do with my free hand.

  “So, you should sit with us at lunch today.”

  My mouth drops open. Uh…what? At this point, I was certain he wanted nothing else to do with this plan. Heck, Nash hasn’t even tried to talk to me. Blythe kept saying I was reading too much into the situation and to let it play out, and Claire seemed happy that this whole experiment appeared doomed. She even joined us for lunch yesterday. And now Carter is gonna stand here and act as if he hasn’t been a total weirdo the past few days.

  “Um…what?”

  He straightens, towering over me by at least a foot. “Come sit with us. Your paintball skills impressed Nash. He hasn’t stopped talking about it, and asked me to invite you again. So now would be a great time for you to turn it up a notch while you have his attention.”

  He smiles, but it’s tight and doesn’t reach his eyes. This isn’t the carefree, funny guy I’ve been hanging out with.

  “Listen, Carter—”

  “He’s in a good mood because his birthday is this weekend,” he continues as if I wasn’t talking. “His parents agreed to leave the house so he could throw a party. Score an invite
and you’re in. This is the moment you wanted. Right?” His eyebrows jump up as if he’s challenging me to say no.

  “I mean…I guess. But your table? Do you think I’m ready for that? Plus, Cristy is gonna be there, and well, she won’t be thrilled about it.”

  “Why are you trying to talk yourself out of this?” He crosses his arms over his broad chest and steps closer. Close enough in fact that the heat of his body has me close to sweating. A few people are looking our way, but he doesn’t notice. “This is what you want. I’m giving it to you on a silver platter and now you’re chickening out?”

  I reel back at the tone of his voice. Something is definitely up. Carter never talks to me this way. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t back down. “You got Mrs. Baker’s English before lunch, right?” I nod, still stunned into silence. “Cool. I’ll meet you there.”

  Without another word, he walks away, leaving me staring after him. He’s right, this is everything I wanted. Not even John has been invited to sit at the main table, despite his best efforts. So why isn’t this as awesome as I imagined?

  A throat clears behind me and I run right into Claire who is watching Carter’s retreating back. “What was that about?” she asks.

  “He invited me to sit with him at lunch.”

  Her nostrils flare, and she glances away. “I thought you were done with all this? You haven’t mentioned it in days.”

  “I figured it was over after Saturday but—”

  “But what?” Claire snaps, shocking the hell out of me. I didn’t know she could speak that loud. “You need to stop this. Going after John won’t make you feel any better about the fact that he dumped you. Get over yourself and move on.”

  I stare at her slack-jawed as she walks away. What is with people today? First Carter is acting all weird, and now Claire. If I didn’t know any better, I would think brain-sucking aliens replaced them.

  I get that I’ve been absent when it comes to my friends, but I didn’t realize it would upset Claire so much. Blythe is on board, so why is Claire fighting this hard? It has to be about John. They were friends. too, but I never considered she would take his side over mine. I mean, hello, he was the one who dumped me out of nowhere as she so kindly pointed out. Isn’t there some girl code that says she should support all my crazy post-breakup ideas, even if it means I buzz my hair off Britney-style?