Adorkable (14 page)

“Even,” Becks agreed, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Mom, who’d been watching the exchange, sighed.

Becks and I looked at her.

“What, it’s a great story,” Mom said, wearing a dreamy expression. “You meet when you’re young, become best friends, and then fall in love? I’m telling you it doesn’t get much better than that. I hope you’ll take care of my girl, Becks.”

“Mom,” I muttered, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Nicholls.” Becks reached for my hand, and I gave it without a thought. Gazing lovingly into my eyes, he said, “I will.”

Man, he was
good
.

I would’ve applauded the Oscar-worthy performance, but instead I smiled as he winked. We’d get through the cookout just fine so long as Becks kept that up.

Mom had called Mrs. Kent to have Becks drive us over (I swear, she had to be the one I got all my sneakiness from). The entire Kent Clan was there when we arrived, and the three oldest boys met us at the door.

Let the games begin, I thought, holding tight to Becks’s hand.

He squeezed mine back.

“Martha,” Clayton fairly squealed as he saw my mother. He reached out to take one of the trays, flipped back the foil and put a hand to his heart. “Macadamia Nut, my favorite. Tell me, would you ever consider dating a younger man?”

Leonard Kent, the oldest, stepped in. “Stop hogging her,” he said, flashing a winning smile. “Hey Martha, how’s it going?”

Mom laughed. “It’s going just fine. Oh and Leo, there’s something for you, Ollie and Thad here, too.”

At the sound of his name, Oliver poked his head out, smiled at Mom and grabbed his tray of peanut butter cookies. “Thanks, Martha. You’re the best.”

Every single one of the Kent brothers was in love with my mother.

This should’ve bothered me, but it didn’t.

“Sally Spitz,” Leo said squinting, “I think you’re even prettier than when last I saw you. What the heck are you dating this guy for?”

Becks grunted.

Ollie spoke through a mouthful of cookie. “Yeah, Sally, what’s the deal? I thought you and young Baldwin were strictly hands off. When’d you guys decide to become kissing buddies?”

And that was only the start.

The jabs kept coming.

The brothers surrounded us as we sat on the loveseat in the living room. Becks wore a tight-lipped grin, and I was left to field the questions. By that point Mom had made her way into the kitchen with Mrs. Kent, for which I was thankful. There were some things I just didn’t want her to hear—like question one.

Leo: “I hear you and Becks got caught necking in his room. He any good?”

Me (flushed): “He’s magnificent.”

Ollie: “Oh yeah? So, when’s the honeymoon gonna be?”

Me: “Undecided.”

Clayton: “You’ll name one of your kids after me, right?”

Me: “You wish.”

Clayton: “Ah, come on Sally.”

Me: “No.”

Thad: “What about me? Thaddeus the Fifth sounds pretty darn good.”

Me: “Not on your life.”

No way was I naming my child Thaddeus. All of the Kent brothers were named after uncles; it was tradition, and both Mr. and Mrs. Kent had a long line of siblings to choose from. That’s how Becks got saddled with his tongue twister. They knew he was going to be their last, and so every name that hadn’t already been assigned got dropped on him.

Becks was looking more and more tense, enduring every snicker, every skeptical look, until he finally jumped up and said, “Who’s up for a game?”

Nothing could distract the Kent brothers like a challenge.

We played every year, and to make it more fair, the game was touch football. Everyone knew if Becks got hold of a soccer ball, there was no contest. The brothers had learned the hard way, and male testosterone was alive and well in the Kent household. They hated to lose, especially to each other.

It was a serious competition.

“I can almost taste a victory,” Clayton said, doing a couple lunges to warm up. “Can you taste it, Sally? That sweet budding taste of V-I-C-T-O-R-Y?”

“Yeah,” I smiled, “tastes good.”

I played to even up the teams, and once everything was settled here was the line-up: Me, Ollie, and Clayton versus Becks, Leo and Thad. I might not have had the upper body strength, but I had the quickness to compete with the boys. Plus, I’d grown up with these particular boys, so I knew their weaknesses.

“We got this,” Ollie said, jogging in place. “We so got this.”

“You got nothing.” Leo smacked Ollie on the shoulder, laughing as he walked past.

“You won’t be smiling when we annihilate you,” Ollie said, glaring at Leo’s back as if he saw a bull’s-eye. They had a bit of sibling rivalry going on, being the two oldest. Leo was bigger, but Ollie had the better throwing arm. They usually focused on each other, so I wouldn’t need to worry too much about Leo. “You ready to get that Troll, Sally?”

My eyes narrowed on the competition. “Heck, yeah.”

The Golden Troll, a prize like no other, coveted, highly sought after, much beloved and a total piece of crap. The thing was butt ugly. The doll sported crazy red eyes, was missing most of its hair, had been spray-painted gold and nailed crooked onto a wooden base to complete the horrific appearance. Looks weren’t important, though. If your team took the Troll, you earned a year’s worth of bragging rights. It was all about the win.

Taking Leo out of the equation, I concentrated on Becks and Thad. Becks was difficult to pin down. He had weaknesses I was sure, but none I could easily spot. I usually tried to stay away from him. He knew I wasn’t made of glass, and I knew he’d take me down if he could. Last year, in the mud, sweat and heat, it hadn’t been pretty.

Thad was the weak link, my number one target. He had a soft spot for girls, all girls, so even if I was running right by him, he hardly made an effort, afraid he’d push too hard and I’d get hurt. Our strategy was simple. Get Thad on our side, effectively knocking him out of the game and taking Becks’s team down to two players.

In the huddle, Ollie laid out the game plan then said, “Everyone understand?”

Clayton and I nodded.

Ollie looked to me. “You ready? This whole thing depends on you, Sally, so you’ve got to be willing to lie, cheat, steal, whatever it takes to get the Troll.”

“Whatever it takes,” I said.

Clayton raised an eyebrow. “Even if it means taking your boyfriend down a notch?”

Before I could say a word, Becks called out from across the yard. “Hey Sal, you want to hurry it up? Team Becks is getting impatient over here, waiting to claim our prize.”

“That Troll is ours,” Clayton shot back.

“Not this year,” Leo said smugly. “Not last year either.”

“That was a fluke,” Ollie retorted. “Nothing but a fluke.”

“Yeah,” I said, “the sun got in my eyes.”

“Sorry Sal—” Becks shook his head. “—but girlfriend or not, your team’s going down. Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll go easy on you.”

It was the “sweetheart” that did it.

Turning back around, baring my teeth, I said, “He’ll never see it coming. Let’s do this.”

And do it we did. The whole thing went off without a hitch. On the third play, I saw my opening and took it. Ollie had just thrown a perfect spiral, delivering the ball into my arms without the slightest wobble. I’d cradled it to my chest like a newborn babe and made a mad dash for the goal line, but Becks was there to intercept me less than five yards away. He tagged me with two hands to my side, a gentle pat, the lightest of touches, but I made the most of it, throwing my body to the side, taking a nosedive into the grass, groaning pitifully as I fell.

Becks was at my side in an instant, kneeling, checking me for injuries. “Sal?” he said, face stricken. I buried my head further into my shoulder, trying not to laugh. “Sal, are you hurt? I didn’t mean to...I mean, I barely...Sal, say something, you’re scaring me here.”

At that, I looked up, eyes bright. “Aw, don’t be scared Baldwin, I’m alright.” Looking past him, I said, “But you better watch your back. Thad doesn’t look happy.”

“Huh?” was all Becks got out, and then he was wrenched away.

Thad was in a state. “What the heck’s the matter with you, Becks? She’s a girl for God’s sake.” I groaned again for good measure, letting him pull me to my feet. Gently, Thad said, “Sally, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine,” I said, shooting Becks a grin when no one was looking. “I guess Becks just doesn’t know his own strength.”

Becks’s mouth dropped open.

Thad glared at him and Leo said, “Not cool man. Not cool.”

After that the game was a cakewalk. Our strategy worked better than expected, getting not only Thad on our side but Leo as well. With their half-hearted showing, Becks was basically playing by himself. By game’s end, Clayton and Ollie were having a victory toast, taunting the others for their abysmal performance, and I was in possession of the Golden Troll. Becks strolled up as I pretended to give it a polish.

“That was some dirty trick,” he remarked. “Faking like that, making us think you were seriously injured, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first,” I said, hugging the Troll to my chest. “Besides, it was Ollie’s idea, not mine.”

His eyes narrowed. “You really had me for a minute there.”

“Becks, you barely touched me.”

“Yeah, but it scared me just the same.”

I studied his face, saw he was serious. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Nope.”

“No, what?”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it, Sal.” Becks stood hands on hips, shaking his head. “I nearly died from the guilt. My nerves are still shot. It’s gonna take something more, something valuable, something...golden.”

“No way,” I said, walking backward.

“You cheated,” he said, matching me step for step.

“We won fair and square.”

“I think you’d agree that’s a stretch.”

I did but stayed silent.

“Hand over the troll, Sal.”

“Never.” He had me trapped, pressed up against a tree in the Kent’s backyard, but still I clutched the trophy tighter. “Goldie’s mine this year. You can’t have her, Becks. I won’t let you.”

Becks’s eyes widened. “You named it?”

“Yes,” I said, “a few years ago, so what?” I figured if it was so important, ugly or no, why not give the troll a name? Goldie wasn’t much to look at, but this year she was going home with me. It was only the second time my team had won. He wouldn’t get her without a fight. “I’m not giving her up, Becks. There’s nothing you can say or do to make me change my mind.”

He grinned. “I believe you owe me a favor.”

Except that, I thought.

“Give her here,” he said, holding out a hand.

Frowning, I took one last look at Goldie, smoothed out her thinning hair, then shoved the doll into his chest. “You’re a poor loser, Baldwin Eugene. Anybody ever tell you that?”

He laughed breathlessly. I was glad to see I’d managed to wind him. “You guys play dirty, but I play dirtier. Cheaters never win, you should know that.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled, pushing past him.

“Sal,” he called, but I just kept walking. Even though I loved him, sometimes Becks really got on my nerves.

Becks was only seconds behind as I took a seat at the table, and wouldn’t you know it? They’d saved us two seats, side by side. Great.

“Don’t be mad,” Becks said, placing a hand on mine, setting Goldie on the floor between us. I took one look at her, met his eyes and looked away. “Aw, come on, Sal.”

“Hey,” Clayton said, pointing, “what’re you doing with that? We gave the Troll to Sally for a job well done. She earned it.”

Becks sighed, giving up. I was mad about the troll, and he’d just have to wait it out. “She gave it to me because she felt bad about tricking us.”

“That true, Sally?” Ollie asked, taking a sip of Coke. “I thought it might’ve been ‘cause you two are so in love.”

I snorted, ignoring Becks’s injured look.

“Who’s in love?” Leo walked out of the kitchen, plate piled high. “Oh,” he said, eyes landing on our hands. “You know, I knew about Becks, but I never suspected you, Sally. The crush he had was a big one that’s for sure.”

I felt my brow contract. What was Leo talking about?

“Yeah,” Ollie laughed. “He was a goner practically from day one.”

“Shut up,” Becks said to no one in particular.

“Did he ever read you that poem?” Clayton asked, smiling.

“Yeah,” Ollie said, “classic.”

“What poem?” I asked curious. I had no idea what they were going on about, but it definitely sounded interesting. Plus, it was making Becks pink in the cheeks and, being mad at him, I wasn’t above some well-deserved payback.

The answer came, but not from Becks.

As the parents and Thad joined us, setting food on the table, Mrs. Kent took the seat on my other side and laid a book out in front of me. It was thick with a flowery cover, and Becks sat back removing his hand from mind, running it through his hair instead.

“Jeez, Mom,” he said, “is this really necessary?”

Mrs. Kent shot him a look but smiled at me. “I just wanted to show Martha and Sally some pictures.” To my mother who was leaning toward us, she said, “I’ve been keeping this since they first met.”

“Oh,” Mom said happily, “we have a few shots at home but not a whole album. I’d love to get copies.”

“I’ll make you some,” Mrs. Kent promised and opened the cover.

It was like traveling back in time. Pictures of me and Becks on our first day of high school, the two of us dressed up at Halloween, a prince and princess one year, Trekkies the next, complete with pointy ears and Spock eyebrows. The next page showed us at a Valentine’s Day dance in middle school, me cheering in the stands at one of Becks’s soccer games, a candid of Becks giving me a noogie. Becks pushing me on the swings. Me hugging Becks at the amusement park where he got sick after eating a bad corndog. The two of us at the aquarium, a parade, the movies. There were enough memories in this one little book to make me want to forget about Goldie and forgive Becks for being a jerk. But it wasn’t until the last page that my anger changed to something else entirely.