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Shut Out

Page 21

by Kody Keplinger


  I turned to face Chloe. “Do you think we’re about ready?” I asked.

  “I hope so,” Chloe said. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get out of here and have my wicked way with Shane.” She glanced over my shoulder and winked at him.

  “Chloe, do you like him?” I asked.

  “Who? Shane?” She shrugged. “As a friend. I’m not in love with him or anything, but… It’s kind of like, we both know what we want. Neither of us wants a relationship, and we’re both cool with that. I like that he doesn’t make me feel like a tramp just because I don’t want to have his babies one day.”

  I laughed. “Fair enough.”

  Chloe didn’t have all the answers, either. I knew that now. But she had known something all along that I hadn’t: that being ashamed of what you want or how you feel is pointless, and letting anyone else make you feel ashamed is a waste. We all wanted different things, and that was okay. Chloe wanted sex without commitment. Mary wanted to wait until she was ready. And I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I didn’t want to make any decisions until I knew. And I was proud of that.

  “Everyone’s here,” Cash said, coming over to stand next to me. “Are you ready?”

  “Very.”

  I looked at Chloe, who nodded and whistled loudly, catching everyone’s attention. “Listen up!” she called. “The less you talk, the sooner we can get this over with and you can all go home and do whatever it is you plan on doing—and I’m sure most of you have some interesting plans.” She grinned and a few of the boys cheered.

  I could see several girls rolling their eyes, even in the steadily lowering light of the sun.

  “All right,” I said, taking over from Chloe. “So, as you know, the girls all took an oath when the strike started. We figured the only way to really finish this was if the boys did the same oath, ending the rivalry. Does, um, anyone have something you all can take the oath on?”

  “I do,” Adam said. He was carrying a backpack, I noticed, and he swung it to the ground. “Just a second.” He dug through the bag’s contents for a minute before producing a magazine. He held it up, and once again the guys cheered while the girls groaned.

  “Sports Illustrated?” I said to Adam. “Really?”

  “Hey,” he said. “Ellen told me you guys took a vow on Cosmo, and that’s about sex. So it’s only right that we swear on Sports Illustrated, since this is a sports rivalry.”

  “But was the swimsuit edition really necessary?” Ellen asked him.

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “Yes, it was.”

  Chloe burst out laughing.

  “Fine,” I said, walking over and taking the magazine from Adam. “This will work, I guess. Okay, everyone stand in a circle, please. This will just make it easier.”

  They moved obediently, and I felt like the ringleader of a circus.

  “All right. So here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to say the oath and then pass the magazine to one of you guys. All you have to do is say, ‘I do,’ and then pass it on to the next person until it makes it all the way around the circle. Sound good?”

  A few of the boys nodded. Others just shrugged. Cash gave me a reassuring smile.

  “Adam,” I said, walking over to him. “It’s your magazine, so why don’t you go first?”

  “Gladly.”

  “Okay.” I cleared my throat, suddenly wishing I’d actually written down an oath for the boys to make instead of just winging it at the last moment. But I was trying to be more spontaneous, learning to let go a little. This was a baby step. “Um… all right. Do you hereby swear that the ten-year rivalry between the football and soccer teams of Hamilton High will end here and now, that you will, uh, no longer participate in the hazing, pranks, or fights associated with the rivalry, and that you will, at the very least, be civil to the members of the other team so that this rivalry dies once and for all?”

  Adam took the magazine from me and laid his hand right over the model’s chest. “I do,” he said, grinning.

  Then he passed the magazine on.

  I watched as each boy agreed to the oath—many of them smiling at their girlfriends and not even glancing at the nearly naked swimsuit model on the cover of the magazine. I could feel Randy’s eyes on me when his turn came, but I wouldn’t look in his direction.

  “I do,” he said.

  And it continued.

  “I do.”

  “I do.”

  “I, uh, do.”

  Cash was the last person in the circle to get the magazine. He grinned at me as he agreed to the oath, and I grinned back. This wouldn’t have happened without him, and I knew it. He’d done so much, been so helpful, even when I wasn’t aware. Even when I kept trying to hate him.

  “And I’ll keep this,” Adam said, tucking the magazine back into his bag. He straightened up and turned to Ellen. Then, without warning, he took her into his arms, lifted her off the ground, and spun her around.

  The sound of her laugh was like music.

  One by one, the girls went back to their boyfriends. Some threw themselves into the boys’ arms and started making out right away—kind of gross—while others walked over more slowly, clearly needing to say something that was on their minds.

  Like maybe they’d thought about their relationships, about sex.

  Like maybe this whole thing had changed them as much as it had changed me.

  “Lissa.”

  I glanced to my left and jumped when I realized that Randy was standing right next to me, a goofy grin plastered across his face. A few weeks ago I thought that grin was cute. Now, after all that had happened, it felt empty.

  “What do you want?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

  “I want to talk,” he said.

  “I have nothing to say to you.”

  I started to turn away, but he caught me by the arm. “Lissa, wait. Please.”

  “Dude,” I heard Shane say from a few yards away. “Randy, leave her alone. You fucked this up already.”

  “Shut up, Shane,” Randy barked over his shoulder. Then he looked at me again, his puppy face coming out. “I miss you,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I acted the way I did. But it’s over now. The rivalry and the strike. You got what you wanted, so… When can we go back to normal? To being us?”

  I just stared at him, stunned, unable to believe he really thought his puppy eyes and a half apology were enough to make me want him back.

  At the end of the summer, it had been enough.

  But it wasn’t anymore.

  “Never,” I told him. “We’re never going to go back to being normal, Randy. Because you are the same person you were two months ago. I’m not. I’m not the same girl who let you make me feel guilty for not doing the things you wanted me to do. I’m done with that, and I’m done with you.” I pulled my arm free of his and, feeling a little evil, smiled up at him. “And I am so, so happy I never had sex with you.”

  Randy flinched, looking wounded, but not wounded enough to satisfy me completely.

  “Can’t we go somewhere?” he whispered. “Can’t we talk about this? Lissa, I love you. You owe it to me to give us a shot.”

  “I owe you absolutely nothing.”

  “Lissa, please—”

  “Hey.”

  Randy turned to look over his shoulder as someone came near us. My heart began to race when I realized it was Cash. For a second, I was worried that he’d misinterpret the situation, that he’d see me and Randy talking and think I’d changed my mind, think we were getting back together again.

  “Do you mind?” Randy asked. “I’m trying to have a conversation here.”

  “Yeah,” Cash said. “I do mind.”

  I felt a jolt of joy as Cash brushed past Randy and stopped by me. He reached out a hand, and I took it. Then, right there in front of Randy, Cash pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

  Not a sloppy, groping, make-out kiss—the kind no one wants to see in public. It wasn’t like that. But it was a warm
, passionate, sweet kiss that, despite lasting only a few seconds, left me breathless.

  “Ready to get out of here?” Cash asked, slowly pulling his mouth away from mine but still keeping me wrapped in his arms.

  I just nodded, and he smiled.

  “Excuse us,” Cash said, bumping past a shocked-looking Randy and holding my hand as he led me down the hill toward the back road where his car was located.

  “You’re smooth,” I told him as he opened the car door for me.

  “I’m learning.”

  A second later, when he climbed into the seat beside me and turned the key in the ignition, I asked, “So are you going to tell me where we’re headed?”

  “I was thinking of keeping it a surprise,” Cash said. “Will that drive you crazy? I know you like to know the plan, usually so you can critique it. So I’ll tell you if that’ll make you more comfortable.”

  I sighed and reached across the console to take his right hand as he used his left to steer. “Don’t tell me,” I said. “Yes, it’ll drive me crazy, but… I’m learning, too.”

  Acknowledgments

  Writing is a team sport, and the author only one player on the field.

  I’d like to thank my MVPs, the people without whom none of this could happen. Kate Sullivan, who takes my best and pushes it to new heights—I could not have asked for a better editor. And Joanna Volpe, who not only knew what Lysistrata was but also supported this crazy, loose retelling from day one—thanks for believing in this, and in all my other wacky ideas; I always know I can rest easy when the ball is in your court.

  Thanks also go to Cindy Eagan, Lisa Sabater, JoAnna Kremer, Stacy Cantor Abrams, Alison Impey, and the rest of the crew at Little, Brown and Poppy. I’m so lucky to have you all on my team.

  Much love to Shelby Bach, who was patient enough to explain soccer to me (I know what a midfielder is now! Woo!) and Veronica Roth, who was always so willing to help. Special thanks also go to the girls of YA Highway, who have served as both my friends and my therapists over these past few years. And to Amy Lukavics—thanks for making me feel like the coolest girl in the world, even when I’m down.

  I’d be nowhere without the support of my friends: Molly, Shana, Jamie, Ashlyn, Becca, Rachel, Gaelyn, Meredith, Alyssa, Hannah, Nicole, Cody, Kyle, and so, so many others—I wish I could name you all. My friends, you have put up with quite a lot from me. For that, I am forever grateful.

  Thanks also go to Nancy Coffey, Sara Kendall, Katharine Kittredge, Suzie Townsend, Diana Fox, Courtney Moulton, Lisa Desrochers, Kathleen Ortiz, Hannah Wylie, and Michelle Hodkin—even if you don’t know it, you have all inspired me. It’s people like you who make me proud to play the game.

  And finally, because I’m sure they are starting to wonder where their names are, I want to thank my family. Especially my mom, Elaine, and my dad, John. Thank you all for cheering me on, before I even stepped onto the field. Without your love and support, I couldn’t have made it this far.

  Contents

  Front Cover Image

  Welcome

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-­One

  Chapter Twenty-­Two

  Chapter Twenty-­Three

  Chapter Twenty-­Four

  Chapter Twenty-­Five

  Chapter Twenty-­Six

  Chapter Twenty-­Seven

  Chapter Twenty-­Eight

  Chapter Twenty-­Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-­One

  Chapter Thirty-­Two

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Kody Keplinger

  Copyright

  also by

  kody keplinger

  The DUFF

  (Designated Ugly Fat Friend)

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2011 by Kody Keplinger

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Poppy

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  Visit our website at www.­HachetteBookGroup.­com.

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  Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown and Company.

  The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  First eBook Edition: September 2011

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-316-19157-9

 

 

 


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