The Queen B* Strikes Back (3 page)

“Oh, please don’t tell me you slept with him.”

I snapped to attention. “What?”

“Morgan and I have a bet going, and she thinks Brett’s going to take your V-card.”

“You’re making bets about my virginity?”

“No, Morgan is.” He sat next to me and rested his head on my shoulder. “I told her you wouldn’t because you promised to be my V-club buddy until I turned eighteen and wouldn’t be jailbait anymore.”

Funny how he remembered a promise I’d made when we’d been joking around earlier this summer. Morgan had lost her virginity during her freshman year and seemed to move from one physical relationship to the next. Richard, however, was barely sixteen and looked twelve. Since high school wasn’t the friendliest environment for coming out, his age-appropriate selection was limited, which made his virgin status more of a frustration than a choice.

I, on the other hand, had never even been remotely tempted by anyone until Brett sat next to me in class. It had been a downhill slide from there.

“So,” Richard drawled, “what is going on between the Queen B and the football star? Are you two secretly plotting to become that power couple I told you that you would be?”

I should’ve blurted out
no
, but Richard picked up on my moment of hesitation.

“You are, aren’t you?” He clapped his hands together and grinned. “By Homecoming, you two could rule the school.”

“Hate to burst your bubble, buttercup, but it’s not happening.” I started to rise, but Richard pinned me to the rock.

“Then fine, I’m listening. Spill your guts.”

I’d been keeping my feelings over this whole Brett situation bottled up for days, and suddenly the idea of confiding in Richard seemed like a welcome relief. “This never leaves the two of us.”

He made an X over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

My head was telling me just to give him the information he’d asked for, but since I was supposed to be spilling my guts, I figured I might as well start from the place where my life started spinning out of control. “You know that whole camera in the girls’ locker room thing?”

“Yeah, I loved your blog post about it, but I was kind of bummed you didn’t name names.”

“Well, um, Brett sort of helped me out with solving the mystery.” The back of my neck burned, and I lifted my hair to fan it. Just thinking about our makeout session made me both giddy and jittery at the same time.

“You’re blushing. Oh my God, Alexis, please say there’s more to this than you two playing detective.”

“Um, there is.” I fanned harder, but the breeze generated by my hand was a joke, and sweat prickled my skin. Geez, if it was this nerve-wracking to tell my best friend, I dared not even think about taking my thing with Brett public.

I drew in a deep breath and said in a rush, “Brett kissed me. More than once. And damn it, I liked it. And I ended up losing my shirt before I knew it. And oh shit, I’m screwed.”

Richard’s eyes widened, and he backed away as through I were some kind of lunatic. “Holy shit.”

“And that was just the first time.”

“You mean you made out with him again?”

I nodded in shame.

Envy replaced the shock and awe that had slackened his face, and the inquisitor had returned. “Tell me everything. How was it? Good kisser? Bad kisser? Firm lips? Good use of tongue? I want to know every minute detail about kissing Brett.”

I squirmed with each question he fired at me. “He was good, okay?”

“How good?”

“Good enough for me to indulge in seconds in his bedroom the next day.”

Richard smacked my shoulder with the back of his hand. “You made out in his bedroom, and you weren’t going to tell me?”

“And don’t forget this annoying little thing.” I pulled down the neck of my T-shirt to reveal the fading hickey he’d given me in the locker room.

Richard pointed at it as though it were the scarlet A. “Brett Pederson gave you a hickey?”

“Yeah, and it pissed me off.” I shrugged my shirt back up. “The problem is, I know better than to tangle with him. Even though I do enjoy kissing him. Even though he wants to be a couple. I know better.”

“Hold on a minute, girlfriend. You enjoy kissing him, and he
wants
to be a couple, and you’re walking away from this?” He pressed his palm against my forehead. “Are you sure you’re well?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” I lied, “and today was just the proof I needed.”

“Okay,” he replied with a hefty dose of doubt.

“He woke me up, forced me to go to the senior carwash, and when Summer dissed me, he said nothing.”

“So what? Summer’s always trying to diss you, and you always have a good comeback.” A wrinkle of confusion appeared above Richard’s nose. “Why do I get the feeling you’re leaving out something?”

When I didn’t answer, he pulled out his phone. “Fine. I’ll just text Jing and ask him what happened, since I know he was there.”

“No!” I tried to take the phone from him, but he held it out of my reach and challenged me with an arched eyebrow. “Okay, you win. Before Summer dissed me, there was this big water fight that Sanchez started and somehow during the chaos, Brett caught me, and everyone saw us together.”

“Together? Or
together
together?”

Now it was my turn to smack him. “As if I’d make out with him in public.”

“Then how were you
together
?”

“Stop saying it that way. We weren’t running around naked or anything. He just had his arms around me like this.” I demonstrated the hold on Richard.

“And did you just melt in his arms?” he asked in a dreamy voice.

For a moment, I had. “No, there were too many people staring at us. I was more horrified than anything.”

“And then?”

“And then I pushed him away and left.”

“You what?” He shook his head. “That right there was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t do stupid things, unless you count making out with him in the first place.”

“No, you totally screwed up your chances with him. Listen, I may be gay, but I’m still a guy, and when a guy makes a public declaration that he’s into you like that and you reject him, you’re as good as forgotten.”

“Oh, please.” I tried to sound blasé about it, even though my stomach was turning into one huge tangled knot. “I’d hardly call swinging me around and tickling me until I laughed a public declaration.”

“He tickled you?” Richard hopped off the rock as though he feared he’d catch some sort of fatal illness from me. “Do you have any idea how badly you just fucked up?”

I stared at him. “Um, no.”

“Let me count the ways.” He held up a finger with each point he made. “One: I assume that conversation behind the scoreboard involved him asking you out and you turning him down, right?”

I nodded, and he continued.

“Two: He purposely arranged to arrive at a class function with you. Not Summer. Not any other girl. You. And he didn’t try to sneak into the event like he was ashamed to be seen with you. He made sure everyone there saw you were with him.”

I felt sick to my stomach as I nodded again.

“Three: During this water fight, he singled you out to play with and held you like a boyfriend would hold his girlfriend, and you dissed him for it.”

“I didn’t diss him.”

“You publicly rejected him in front of everyone. That qualifies as a diss. And you wonder why he didn’t come to your defense afterward.” Richard shook his head like he’d just spent an hour chiding a spoiled brat. “You just blew it.”

“So? It’s not like I want to go out with him or anything,” I shot back, even though I was on the verge of puking. Had I really just screwed things up between Brett and me? And if I had, why did I care? After all, I only wanted to be friends with him, right?

But I
did
care. And for the exact same reason why I didn’t tell him to piss off yesterday once we turned in our class project. Or for the same reason I’d dragged Richard with me to the football game last night. Or for the same reason I couldn’t wait to get home and snuggle with the shirt that smelled like him.

I’d fallen head over heels for Brett, but I was too much of a coward to admit it.

I hugged my knees to my chest and waited for my anguish to pass.

Richard placed his arm around my shoulders and drew me into a hug. “Cheer up, Alexis. I’m sure we can find a bright spot to this.”

“How?”

“Well, for starters, you won’t have to worry about him waking you up early in the morning to drag you to any more stupid school events.”

I tried to laugh, but a choked sob came out with it.

“Aw, sweetie, you really are upset about this?” Richard hugged me even tighter. “I’m sorry I had to be the bitch this time.”

“No, I needed to hear it.” I swiped my hand over my eyes to make sure no tears had fallen. I couldn’t afford to waste any over Brett. “Besides, you’re right. I told him it would never work, and today proved it. You should’ve seen the looks on his friends’ faces when they saw the two of us together. They thought
he
was the one who’d lost his mind.”

“Yeah, high school sucks that way.” He pinched my shirt and pulled it off my shoulder. “And I think you’re dry enough to ride in my car now.”

“So is it officially your car now?” I slid off the rock, eager to change the subject from my disastrous morning.

“My grandmother signed the papers over to my dad yesterday. They told me as soon as I got home from the game last night.”

“I guess I don’t have to give you a ride to the game this Friday, then.” In a way, I was glad. Even though I was beginning to enjoy the games now that I had some concept of what was happening. Richard was an expert when it came to football and he was a great teacher.

“How about I give you a ride?” he asked with a playful nudge.

“I don’t know. Asian drivers and all,” I teased.

Thankfully, he laughed. “You bitch.”

Yes, that was what I was. The Queen Bitch. And I needed to keep reminding myself that I liked it that way.

When we got back to the car, I said, “Thanks for helping me out, Richard.”

“What are friends for?” He climbed in and started the engine. “By the way, I think the next person who needs an intervention is Morgan.”

“Why?”

“She went out with that douche bag last night.”

I didn’t bother to stifle a groan. For two weeks, Morgan had been drooling over this stupid frat boy named Gavin who worked in the coffee shop she frequented. Despite her flirtations, he’d ended up asking me out instead. The dude was clueless. Even if I was remotely attracted to him (which I wasn’t), a true friend wouldn’t go out with a guy her best friend was crushing on. I’d hoped Morgan would take a hint and move on to someone new. Apparently, not the case.

“Please don’t let her have slept with him.”

Richard snorted. “This is Morgan we’re talking about. She’s been fantasizing about his dick since she laid eyes on him.”

“And of course, we’re going to hear all about it, aren’t we?”

Richard made a gagging gesture. “Don’t get me wrong. I like a well-formed penis as much as she does, but I wouldn’t go near that guy with a ten-foot pole, even if he were gay. There’s something sketchy about him.”

“Agreed.” I didn’t need to tell anyone that he’d made a move on me. His douchery was evident to everyone but Morgan without me mentioning that.

My phone dinged, and I pulled it out of my pocket to read the text message.

My pulse jumped when I saw it was from Brett.

Sorry the morning went the way it did. Hope you made it home OK
.

I read and reread the message for what felt like a hundred times, looking for any hidden messages. Was he mad at me? Disappointed? Giving me the final write-off?

“Morgan?” Richard asked.

“No.” I paused to weigh the pros and cons of telling him more, but since Richard already knew my situation, I added, “Brett.”

“Ooh!” He leaned over to look at the screen. “What did he say?”

The car swerved into another lane, and my breath froze. I reached out to brace myself as a horn blared, waiting for the metal crunch of some car running into us.

Richard cried out and swerved back into his lane, dodging the car behind us by mere inches.

“Eyes on the road,” I said, panting as though I’d just run a mile. “Shit like that is what gives teen drivers a bad name.”

“At least you didn’t pull the Asian card this time.” He looked the very model of proper driver’s ed instruction. Hands at ten and two, back stiff, his gaze looking straight ahead at the road in front of him. “Now tell me what he said before I die from curiosity.”

I read the message to him, and he pursed his lips.

“Well, it’s not a screw-you, so that’s a good thing.”

“But what does it mean? You’re the guy here.”