The Queen B* Strikes Back (12 page)

“You have that dreamy look in your eyes,” she said.

I shook off my daydreams and focused on the here and now. “It was nice.”

“So you admit you have a thing for him?”

“Maybe.”

“Bullshit. I’ve been your best friend for four years, and I’ve never seen anything remotely like the expression on your face a moment ago. You’re falling hard.”

“No, I’m not.” And yet, as soon as she accused me of falling for him, I crossed my arms over my stomach and doubled over. This whole liking a guy thing was doing a number on my gut. Maybe it was just a stomach flu instead. I could hope, right?

“What’s your holdup?” she asked.

“We could both get hurt from this.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Morgan twirled her hair around her finger. “Let’s break this down. One: He gives you his team shirt and asks that you wear it in public. That’s a sure sign that he wants you to be his girlfriend.”

“Two: He’ll drop everything and run to Summer the minute she calls him. That’s a sure sign he’s still her minion,” I pointed out.

“Three: He’s had you over twice for breakfast, which is more than any of his prior girlfriends have gotten. He’s introduced you to his family, and that’s saying something.”

“Four: Summer’s mentioned that he was lying, and we all know how good she is at stabbing people in the back,” I countered. “For all I know, he’s trying to gain my trust so he and Summer can publicly humiliate me.”

“Five: We both know Summer’s a lying, manipulative bitch, and the fact she’s trying to scare you off means she’s freaking out. If she was using Brett to plot something against you, do you think she’d warn you about it?”

Good point. That went against Summer’s normal M.O., and that sickening feeling returned, but for an entirely different reason. “So you think he might be legit?”

Morgan nodded. “You know I love you like a sister, and your biggest fault is that you know how to carry a grudge to the extreme. Sure, I’ve laughed alongside you as you called out all the popular kids because, I mean, they deserved it. But this thing between you and Summer is ruining your chances with the hottest guy in school. Let it go.”

“If you start singing that song, I’ll slap you.”

Morgan gave me a goofy operatic rendition of the song from
Frozen
before hopping on the bed and collapsing into giggles.

I wasn’t immune to the silliness and laughed with her until my sides hurt. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“What are best friends for?” She retrieved Brett’s shirt. “So, if I were you, I’d flaunt this baby right in front of Summer tonight and watch her turn an ugly shade of green. Then, I’d hook up with the quarterback after the game to check out more of his moves.”

I blushed. So far, his moves had been more than impressive. “I’m not sleeping with him.”

“Fine. But at least enjoy some kissie-kissie action.”

My cheeks burned hotter, and Morgan’s grin widened.

“You have, haven’t you? How far did you go?”

I bopped her with my pillow. “Not as far as you’re thinking.”

“Did you go down on him? Did he go down on you?”

“Morgan!” I sat up and pressed my cool palms to my face. “We just kissed. And I might have grabbed his ass. And he might have removed my shirt once, but that’s it. The underwear stayed on.”

“Even though you’ve thought about shedding your panties.”

“It’s Brett Pederson. Most of the girls at Eastline would shed their panties for him.”

“But he’s only interested in one girl.” She pointed to me. “So why don’t you see where things go?”

“I might. But I’m not completely comfortable with it all.”

“Then take it slow, but whatever you do, don’t let your feelings for Summer interfere with this thing you have with Brett.” She hugged me. “I can’t wait to hear how tonight goes.”

“Why don’t you just come to the game tonight and see for yourself?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Ew! I wouldn’t be caught dead at a high school football game.”

“There was a time when I thought that myself.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one hooking up with the quarterback.”

I bopped her with my pillow again. This time, she retaliated, and the subsequent pillow fight reminded me how lucky I was to have a best friend like Morgan.

But after she left and I straightened up my room, I held up Brett’s shirt and wondered what would happen if I did wear it to the game. And if I did, would the reward be worth the risk?

Chapter Ten

Richard’s jaw dropped the moment he opened the door to my car. “Is that what I think it is?”

I squirmed in my seat. I was wearing the T-shirt that Brett had given me, but I’d covered up the number on the back with my jacket. Baby steps and all… “I don’t know.”

“Look at you. Getting that Eastline pride on.” He mimicked some of the cheerleading moves I’d seen my sister perform hundreds of times. “Go Eagles!”

I didn’t realize that my heart was pounding until he buckled his seatbelt. So far, he hadn’t noticed it was Brett’s shirt. But instead of chatting away like he normally did, Richard remained unusually silent, so much so that my nerves were even more on edge.

“What’s up?” I asked, welcoming an opportunity to talk about something other than a guy who might or might not be interested in me.

“Nothing,” he said, looking out the window as we zoomed down the back roads to avoid the last of rush hour traffic on the freeways.

“Bullshit. You’re never this quiet unless you’re sick, sad, or thinking.”

He gave me a half-smile. “You know how dangerous I get when I’ve been thinking, too.”

Richard was a natural-born schemer. If he didn’t have some innate moral compass, he could probably pull off some impressive scams and skip out to the Caymans when he was finished. But Richard wasn’t that type of guy.

“Any plans for world domination?”

He answered with a snort. “I’d settle for just having a boyfriend.” He turned back to the window. “But I’ve been giving this whole debate team thing some thought.”

“And?”

“I know they already have their core people on the team, and I know that Kelsey loathes gays—”

“Kelsey has her head so far up her high and mighty ass, she thinks the shit she spews tastes like chocolate.”

He snickered, and the mood in the car lifted. “Seriously, though, I’ve been trying to work on my skills so they’d want me on the team.”

“You always have my blog. It’s not like you haven’t used it to make some convincing arguments.”

“Yeah, but I’m thinking ahead to college and building up my resume and all that, and being on the debate team would look good.”

“So would bringing about world peace, but don’t torture yourself over something just because you think it would look good. Do it because you’re passionate about it.”

As soon as I brought up passion, my mind immediately went to Brett and how he’s always near a football. The game might have been his ticket to a full ride at the college of his choice, but he played because he was passionate about it. The whole essay thing with me was just something he was doing to build up his resume, which made me question why he was chasing after it in the first place. He already had plenty of offers to choose from.

Richard interrupted my thoughts. “Uh-oh, I know that look on your face.”

“Oh?”

“It’s the same one you’ve been wearing for the last three weeks whenever you’re trying to figure out something involving a certain hunky quarterback.”

“I’m just trying to see what he has to gain by hanging around me.”

“And I think you’re selling yourself short, sweetie. And I also think you’re a little messed up in the head for refusing him over and over again, but that’s just me. I’d be all over him if he showed even the faintest amount of interest in me.”

Everyone thought I was crazy. And maybe I was. But in truth, I knew it was because I was more of a coward than a basket case. I could call out the former principal for having an affair with a teacher on my blog, but I couldn’t go out on an official date with the school’s golden boy. “Can we go back to brainstorming your attempt to take over the debate team?”

“Sure.”

The rest of the way, we talked about current events and discussed the different stances. Richard was good. He was smart, quick-witted, and always seemed to anticipate my next counterpoint before I could give it. By the time we got to the game, he’d totally convinced me that he deserved to be on the team.

Maybe I could dig up some dirt on Kelsey and blackmail her into letting Richard onto the team. After all, I was the Queen B*, and I could use my power for good.

The parking lot was a nightmare straight from the plane of chaos, so I dropped Richard off at the gate so he could claim a space for us in the stands while I searched for a spot to park my car. It took me almost ten minutes, but I found a place two blocks away on a side street. The line to get into the game was just as disorganized. People pushed and shoved, eager to get a seat before kickoff, and I ended up smashed against a tall blond man.

I apologized as he started to turn around, only to see it was Brett’s father.

“Alexis,” he said with a smile. “So good to see you.”

“The same,” I grunted as someone behind me elbowed me under the ribs.

Mr. Pederson cleared a space in front of him and pulled me into the spot, sheltering me with his massive body. Now I knew where Brett got his chivalry from. “This is crazy, but I’m glad they’re all here to see Brett break the state’s career passing record tonight.”

“Think he’ll do it?”

“Of course he will. He only needs two hundred and eighteen yards, and he’ll easily have that by halftime. After all, he’s thrown that much and more, including breaking the single game record a few weeks ago.” He pointed to the news crews gathered along the sidelines. “See? Even the press knows my boy is going to do something impressive tonight.”

“You must be very proud of him.”

“I couldn’t be prouder if I tried.” He looked down at me. “I’m sure you’re proud of him, too, being his girlfriend and all.”

My breath froze, and the cool autumn night morphed into a scorching summer day. Sweat prickled the back of my neck as several people turned their attention on me. “Um, technically, I’m not—”

“Oh, there’s the scout from the U-Dub,” Mr. Pederson interrupted. “Excuse me, but I need to talk to him. I hope to see you at breakfast on Sunday.”

A giant of a man, he pushed his way through the crowd to meet the scout from the University of Washington, leaving me defenseless against the curious onlookers. Anyone who’d overheard him would assume that I was Brett’s girlfriend, and the fact I’d been invited to breakfast on Sunday with his family only served to confirm his misconception. If someone else had been running
The Eastline Spy
, I’d be the headline of the next post.

Mean Girl Secretly Dating Golden Boy—Has He Suffered One Too Many Concussions?

But instead of lowering my eyes and slinking away, I remembered that I was the Queen B*, and I didn’t achieve my status by backing away from tough positions. I lifted my head and stared in challenge at anyone who met my gaze until they looked away. They might’ve been curious about what was going on between me and Brett, but they dared not voice their questions.

I was still burning up from embarrassment when I finally got to Richard, and I shed my jacket before I soaked it with sweat. “It’s a nuthouse out there, all because Brett’s supposed to break some record. One more reason why I hate football games.”

“Oh, please.” He paused, his eyes widening as he finally noticed the number on my T-shirt. “Is that Brett’s number?”

“So?”

“Did I miss the memo where you two were officially a couple?”

“We are not a couple.”

“Then why are you wearing his shirt?”

“Because it was the only Eastline shirt I had.”

“But it’s
his
.” He pointed to where Brett was reviewing something with one of the coaches in the final moments before kickoff. “And by wearing it, you’re announcing that you two are an item.”

“I fail to see what the big deal is. You and Morgan are trying to turn this into something that it isn’t.”

“It’s definitely a big deal, and if you don’t believe me, look at the expression on Summer’s face.”

Just as Morgan had predicted, Summer was a lovely shade of sour apple green. She stood there, stock still while the rest of the cheerleaders bounced around with huge plastic grins, her face twisted in a mixture of shock and outrage.

Yeah, wearing the shirt had totally been worth it, if only for the look on her face.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, however, was Brett. A slow smile formed on his lips when he saw me. It was one of those Disneyesque moments when the bored prince at the ball finally sees his Cinderella, and the rest of the world fades away. The noise, the chaos, the crowds—they all vanished. He only seemed to have eyes for me.

Just like I did for him. As much as I wanted to fight it, I also reveled in the glow of knowing I was the girl he wanted. My heart no longer pounded in fear. In fact, the steady calm thump seemed almost too relaxed. The embarrassment from earlier shifted to pride, and I toyed with the idea of making things official.