Read Secret Girlfriend Online

Authors: Bria Quinlan

Secret Girlfriend (4 page)

Cheryl dug in her heels. “Why don’t you go get the car?”

She gave him a smile that seemed to say,
That
wasn’t really a question and I know you’re going to do it anyway, so
hurry up.

“Oh, yeah.”

He didn’t even look my way, just ducked his head and
sprinted into the curtain of water. Luke hefted my bike and set the crossbar on
his shoulder.

“Why don’t you wait here, too? I’ll be right back.” He stepped
from the protection of the canopy, his T-shirt instantly soaked through. His
head swung around as I followed, trying my best to ignore the downpour. I’d
tried small talk with guys earlier. I had no interest in testing small talk
with cheerleaders… especially this one. I so didn’t need to get a reminder
about pre-school-year-couples from Cheryl. Water seemed the safer bet.

“That’s okay. I’ll just make a run for it.”

I caught the crooked grin he gave me before I lowered the
bill of my cap. He beat me to the truck and lifted my bike into the back before
opening the door for me. I jumped in and reached to close it, but he was still
there, standing in the rain and pushing it shut.

Slamming the driver’s side door behind him, he looked as
though he wanted to shake like a wet dog but settled for pushing his dark,
drenched locks out of his eyes. He leaned across the stick shift and reached
over my knees to drop the glove compartment open. Pushing aside papers,
napkins, and a folded map, he grabbed a key on a red and silver macramé chain
and started the engine with a heavy sounding roar.

Thud-thud.
The double windshield
wipers crossed, barely missing one another on the downward swoop, shoving the
water off the glass.
Thud-thud.

“So, do you live over there?” he asked. “Where you were
running?”

“Head toward the old wooden bridge.”

The rain beat down steadily, forcing him to drive almost as
slowly as I would have biked anyway.

“I’m going to try this one more time,” he said, reaching to
test the defroster. “Hi. I’m Luke.”

The truck slowed as he glanced my way.

Rolling my eyes, since I was pretty sure he couldn’t see
them, I answered. “Amy.”

“Amy?” He dragged my name out in one of those annoying
fill-in-the-blank ways.

“Amy Whalen.”

“Amy Whalen. It’s good to meet you.” He cocked his head,
lowering it in a way that had his hair dropping toward his eyes again.
“Makes sense.
I asked a couple guys and they came up with
either Beth or
Amiline
. Is Amy a nickname?”

Beth?
Amiline
?
Seriously?

I’d been at Ridge View since fifth grade, and that was the
best they could come up with. I must have been more invisible than I thought if
they’d missed my name being called in classes for oh… six years.

“Nope.
I’m just plain Amy.”

The old truck bounced as we crossed over the slightly older
wooden bridge.

“Take this next right.”

Luke slowed and studied the turnoff. “Here?”

I nodded before realizing he couldn’t look at me.
“Yeah.
But I can walk if you’d like.”

Luke laughed as he pulled the truck onto the dirt road half hidden
by heavy, overlapping oak branches. He patted the worn looking dashboard,
giving it a loving rub before bringing his hand back to the wheel. “Edith’s
seen worse.”

The dirt lane widened as we came to the circular drive in
front of my house.

“You live here?” he asked, his eyes taking in the cottage
and fading garden with its gazebo and handcrafted chairs.

I was used to people making fun of the house, but for some
reason it really bothered me coming from him. The idea that one of the Seers of
Invisible Things could look at
Stonehaven
Cottage and
not see its beauty really galled me.

“Yeah.
I live here.” I gripped the
oversized door handle to push my way into the weather when his hand caught me
around my bicep.

“I wasn’t laughing. I like it. It looks like one of my mom’s
gingerbread houses. It’s homey.” He glanced from the house to me and back
again.

Somehow he’d ended up on my side of the bench looking down
at me. I know I shouldn’t have been noticing, but he had the most amazing green
eyes I’d ever seen. They were pale with a dark, forest-green ring around them
and bright flecks of gold catching the rain-hidden sun.

“I like it,” he said again, his voice lower, honest.

“Oh. Thanks.” I tried not to say it, but it came out in a
rush. “My mom picked the cottage before she died.”

I have no idea what made me spill that, but there was no way
he was hearing the rest. No way, I was telling him about watching my mom waste
away and then my dad drift away.

My gaze dropped to his large hand, the fingers so long they
wrapped all the way around my arm and overlapped his thumb.

He let go, easing away from me as though unsure that’s what
he was supposed to do. “Sorry.”

Sorry?
For my mom?
For me?
For crossing
lines I hadn’t known were there until he tried to ease over them?

The water banged on the roof, enclosing the cabin around us,
making it
seem
smaller—more intimate. I’m not sure why
I didn’t hop out as soon as he let go of my arm. I guess I needed to let him
finish his rambling, or something.

Luke studied the cottage. “There aren’t any lights on.”

There were never any lights on.

“My dad works late.”
Late or constantly.
I
pushed the door open, blushing under his scrutiny and welcoming the cool water
dripping in. “Thanks for the ride.”

I shoved at the heavy door, listening to it squeak as Luke
jumped out the other side. Lowering his head, he hauled my bike from the truck
bed.

“Where does this go?”

I tried to take it from him before he got wetter than
soaked.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. The cold, wet metal under my
hand stayed where it was.

Luke started toward the house, the bike securely in his
custody. There was that stubborn streak again. Truly amazing how clear one
aspect of a person could become in twenty-four hours. I pointed toward the
cottage-shaped shed beyond the garden and watched him run the bike down the
slate pathway to store it.

I’d worked the damp-swollen front door open by the time he
got back and stepped under the overhang.

“Thanks.
Again.
For
the ride and all.”
I stood in the doorway, holding the screen so it
wasn’t between us. His hand rose to the spot just above mine, bracing the door
open when I would have let it fall shut. That annoying half-smile teased around
his lips again, drawing them up on the right.

“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hoped he’d get the
hint. I mean, even with the little overhang, he had to still be getting wet.

Luke nodded as he backed down the stairs. “Sure.
Tomorrow.
Tryouts.
See
ya
then, Stats Girl.

I let the screen fall shut as he drove away, the oversized
tires kicking up mud as he went. Before the roar of his truck faded, the rain
stopped.

It figured.

 
 

Chapter 5

 

Morning washed through the kitchen window in a pale,
yellow-orange light.
The kind of glow that made me happy to throw
on my running shoes and eat up some trail.
If I’d ever had a morning
where I needed to drown out the words in my head with the pounding of my feet,
it was this one.

Tryouts, Chris, New Guy.
Words, words, words.

And of course, waiting for me on the kitchen
counter, one of the weekly notes from my dad.

Groceries
tomorrow.
Make a list what you
need ~ Dad.

Every once in a while it included a note about something he
had to do for work. As if I’d notice him home less—I’m not actually sure he
could be home
much
less.

The deep, heavy revving of a motor shredded the quiet,
catching me off guard and off balance. My foot snagged on the edge of the
kitchen sink where I’d propped it to stretch out my tired legs. Regaining some semblance
of grace, I forced myself not to rush. I could make Chris wait an extra, oh,
three seconds after how he ditched me after tryouts last night.

I hadn’t expected him. I was still smarting from the
blow-off yesterday, and he hadn’t texted to say he’d be by this morning.

Padding to the front hall, I yanked the elastic from my
wrist and pulled my hair into a loose ponytail-half-bun thing. For a heartbeat
before I opened the door, I wished I were a makeup girl and had myself looking
all cute and frilly. Gagging a little at my own silliness, I took a deep breath
and let it out only to catch it back when I opened the door.

“Sweet tea?”
Luke Parker stood on
my steps holding a travel cup. “You didn’t strike me as a coffee drinker. My
mom’s from South Carolina. We grew up drinking this stuff like water.”

I held both hands up to stop the tea dissertation
onslaught—not to mention the stubborn streak I knew would keep him on my porch
until I tasted it. The condensation wet my hand as I raised the cup and sipped
the pushed-on-me-in-an-overbearing-act-of-kindness beverage.
Sweet.
Cold.


Mmm
good.”
I nodded when he smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“Tryouts.”

I did the raised-eyebrows-head-shake thing that typically
said “huh.”

“Tryouts are held at the school,” I pointed out.

Luke pushed a clump of shower-damp hair from his eyes. “I
know. I figured you’d need a ride.”

“No thanks. I need to get a run in.”

“Nah.
Maybe I’ll let you run
tonight.” He was already walking toward the truck. “Hurry up. I don’t want to
end up doing late-laps.”

If I’d learned anything about Luke Parker in the two days
I’d known him, it was that once he started something, you might as well get on
board or get out of the way. And honestly, no matter how much I needed that
mind-cleansing run, there was no way I was going to explain that to him.

I stuffed a
Nalgene
and hat in my
backpack and shut the door behind me. As I skipped down the stairs, Luke pushed
off from where he’d been leaning against the truck, foot propped behind him on
the old fender. He circled around the back and opened the door for me.

I must have stopped to stare, because he blushed and
shrugged. “My mom’s always saying manners outweigh most other forms of
self-expression. And it’s just nice.”

As I brushed by, the
embarrassed
warmth
coming off him combated the morning chill. It made me smile even as I fought
down my early-morning-grouch partnered with the what-the-heck-is-he-doing-here
grumbles.

“I thought the last time was because of the rain.”

At the end of the drive, he eased the truck onto the paved
road and crossed the bridge into town. I kept waiting for him to talk, to break
the silence, but he seemed content to just drive. The only other person I spent
time with in cars was Rachel. She didn’t understand the concept of silence. Oh,
and maybe my dad, but that had been a while. Like a lifetime.
Dad and chitchat?
Not so much.

Luke pulled under a tree at the far side of the parking lot.
I could totally respect the whole grabbing-shade thing, but the idea of walking
that hot, paved runway with everyone noting our arrival had me feeling a
little… conspicuous. Hopefully my well-honed invisibility would hold out. I
waited for him to turn the truck off, trying to be polite after he’d gone out
of his way to pick me up. He tugged the key from the ignition. Instead of
pocketing it, he reached past the stick shift and over my knee to pop the glove
compartment and tossed the key in. Turning his head, he met my gaze and let
that lazy grin spread before pushing the little door shut. “Ready?”

I nodded, trying not to notice the way he kind of eased into
his movements. In that fluid, measured way, he pulled back and jumped out of
the truck.

Guys were already gathered at the school door waiting for
Coach to unlock the gym entrance. Before we cleared the lot, Chris pulled up
and parked near the walkway.

My heart skipped a little beat as he slid out of his car.


Yo
!”

Before I could make my way toward him, Luke was already
shouting back, “Are you talking to us?”

Chris snorted and shook his head. “Only half of
you,
and not your half.”

I tried not to grin at Chris shouting for me in front of the
whole team. I gave Luke a quick, apologetic smile.

“Thanks for the ride. You didn’t need to do that,” I called
over my shoulder as I hurried toward where Chris reclined against his old
Acura.

From behind me, I heard something that sounded suspiciously
like, “Someone had to.”

I sidled up beside Chris, wanting to lean against the car
next to him.
Wanting to lean against him.

“Hey, babe.”
The whole world
stopped as he flashed me a smile that rivaled
a tooth
whitening commercial. “What are you doing with that guy?”

“He picked me up since he knew I didn’t have a ride.”

“Then why is he standing there watching me talk to you?”

I half-turned to peer over my shoulder at Luke still
standing where I’d left him. When Chris cleared his throat, I shifted my full
attention back to him. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s curious how I know you.”

“Did he ask about me? Did he ask about my spot?” Chris put
his hand on my back and steered me toward the school. “It wouldn’t surprise me
if he tries to get you to tell him about the team and stuff.”

It was too hard to think with his hand one layer from my
skin, the warmth seeping through my shirt. I felt like a stupid Rom Com heroine
who shivered at every touch.
Stupid, frilly-girl movies.
I blamed Rachel.

“If he asks you something, what are you going to say?” Chris
asked.

“If he has questions about the team, I’ll just tell him to
ask Coach.”

I watched him relax, approval taking over his worried
expression. Maybe he was right to be suspicious of Luke. What other reason
would he have for singling me out right away? He wanted Chris’s spot and the
fastest way on the team would be to somehow beat Chris out. Maybe Luke was one
of those guys who flirted with every girl in sight to get what he wanted.

I thought about it. Was that what he was doing with me?
Flirting? Would I even know flirting if I saw it aimed at me?

“Good girl. I knew I could count on you.” Chris patted my
shoulder like he did the guys on the team and hit me with that Ashton
Kutcher
grin. “So, did Coach say when he’s going to
announce tryout captains?”

“Not to me.”

“You’d let me know if he did?” His hand made a little circle
on my back. “I know you would have, babe. You’re good at letting me know what I
need to know, aren’t you?”

I could feel the grin, it kept growing. I know it’s dumb,
but seeing him so confident in me made my day perk up a bit.

“You know, after this is over, the team and Homecoming, everything’s
going to be easy. It’s going to be good.” He stepped closer, looking down at me
with an intensity that surprised me.
Stunned me even more
silent… if that was possible.

Behind us, a car pulled up, radio blaring over everything
else with some angry-girl-pop. Yeah, I know—how angry could they really be,
right? I knew who it was by the way Chris’s hand dropped from my back.

“I’ll see you on the field,” he said as he stepped away and
headed back toward the parking lot.

Grrr
. Cheryl.

Every time Chris and I started to get a moment, there she
was.

I really should have felt bad for her. She was being used
for status, but sometimes it seemed she was really into Chris.
Like she was more than just a trophy girlfriend who did her own
thing on the side.
Like she wanted more than just the
Homecoming crown for herself.
Like she wanted
him
.

I had tried not to argue with Chris when he told me this
part of The Plan. Sometimes I wondered if she had her own plan outside of The
Plan. But, if I could hold out until the captain spot was his and the
Homecoming crown was on his head, we could go back to how things were this
summer. I mean, John Hughes made movies about this stuff we still watch today.
You know
,
if we ignored the stupid slang and the
embarrassing clothes.

Chris needed to do all the right things, be seen with all
the right people, and win all the right awards. He needed to put on his public
face when the
other
girlfriend showed
up. But that didn’t make it hurt less.

Luke still stood at the head of the walkway. Arms crossed,
brows lowered.

“Hey.” He fell in with me as I passed him. “Why do you put
up with that?”

“I’m not putting up with anything.” As if it was any of his
business anyway.

“So it’s just my imagination that he’s only your friend when
there isn’t a cheerleader around?”

I was already feeling done with Luke Parker.

Actually, Luke Parker
and
cheerleaders.

Who did this guy think he was anyway?
Pushy
and nosy and watchful.
Maybe it
was
suspicious.

“Thanks for the ride, Luke. But that doesn’t mean you get to
tell me what’s going on in my own life.”

 
“I’m not trying
to run your life. I just think you don’t know who your friends are.”

We’d reached the door, and he took a step in front of me to
open it, probably to hold it for me with those mama-made manners and all.

“Listen, I’m just saying –”

“You’re just saying nothing, Luke. You just got here and I
don’t need your advice on a life I’ve been living for years.”

“Maybe you do. You’re letting this guy walk all over you and
he isn’t worth it. You think you’re
the
one
,” he said those two little annoying words with a very bad Movie
Announcer Guy voice. “But he’s spending all his time with her. What does that
say?”

Luke and his stupid all-seeing superpower.

“I don’t think I’m
the
one
,” I snapped, mimicking his bad impersonation. “We’re friends. We worked
together this summer.”


Pfft
.” Is that even a word?

“If you think that getting chummy with me is going to get
you on that field come pre-season, think again. I’m no one’s gateway to the
soccer land.”

“That’s what you think? You think I’m trying to get in with
you?”

I rolled my eyes. Isn’t that what I’d just said?

A group of freshmen piled out of a parent-driven minivan at
the end of the walkway and headed our direction. I used the distraction to
contemplate a getaway.

“I think you’re lying.” He grabbed my arm and leaned down
toward me. “I think you don’t let anyone see you. You fly so low under the
radar, you’re dodging treetops. Now you think something’s going somewhere it
isn’t. I don’t know what you’re doing throwing your efforts away as stats girl,
but if it’s for him?
Pfft
, you’re wasting your time.
Not only does he not see you, he only sees himself.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not here for
him. I’m here to be stats girl. Not all of us are bimbos. Some of us actually
like
sports.”

 
“You keep
playing this social peek-a-boo game and let me know how that works for you.” He
jerked his head toward the door Chris had disappeared through. “He doesn’t see
you. He just sees the girl who’s going to get him what he wants.”

With that, Luke stormed into the school letting the door
drop behind him.

His mother would not be impressed.

Neither was I.

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