Authors: Kieran Scott
Tags: #Young Adult, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Contemporary
“And now, the moment you’ve been waiting for!” I looked at Lauren across the way, and she rolled her eyes. “Number Eleven, your starting quarterback and senior captain, Peter! Marrott!”
Everyone on the court cheered, and it was pretty loud considering it was just boosters, players, and cheerleaders. Peter bounded out of the locker room with a big smile on and jogged down the
center aisle created by me and the other boosters. Watching him in his element, so larger-than-life and happy and carefree, made me want to cry. He was my boyfriend. Mine. I wanted to reach out and grab his hand, or throw myself into his arms so he’d pick me up and twirl me around and kiss me. But I couldn’t.
Because he
wasn’t
mine. Not anymore.
He did look at me as he jogged by. A passing glance. It felt like death.
Then he was with the team, huddled up, bouncing up and down on their toes doing their throaty-voiced chant.
“Rams! Rams! We are the Rams!
Who’s gonna win?
Rams! The Rams!
Gooooo, Rams!”
The cheerleaders screamed like some celebrity had just walked into the room. I glanced over my shoulder at Casey, and she was shaking her blue-and-silver poms in the air.
“Perfect!” Liza shouted. “After we’re done with this, you’ll all sit down. Football players in the front row, boosters behind them.”
I made a move for the bleachers, but everyone else stood there watching her.
“Go! Bleachers! Now! Sit!” she ordered, waving her hands at us. She shook her head as everyone did as she said, then turned to the cheerleaders. “This is where we do our dance routine, girls. Everybody ready?”
Lauren and I came together as we headed for the bleachers. The players had already sat down, taking up the first two rows, and Peter was right at the center of the middle, watching the action on the court. His eyes were trained on something, and I was sure it was Josie, but I refused to turn around to check.
“How’re you doing?” Lauren whispered to me as we shuffled across the bleachers.
“Fine. Don’t ask,” I said. We both knew she was asking about that encounter with Peter earlier. The whole thing had been so awkward and devastating. Friends? He wanted us to be friends? “Where’s True?”
“She had to work right after school,” Lauren explained. The line of boosters reached the end of the bleachers, and everyone started to sit. I looked down. Perfect. I was almost directly behind Peter. Now I could spend the next ten minutes pining for him and wishing I could touch his hair.
As soon as my butt hit the bleacher seat, my phone beeped. I whipped it out and my heart skipped a startled beat. It was a text from Keegan.
JUST GOT OUT! NO PRACTICE TODAY. WANT TO MEET UP?
He wanted to get together. With me. The insanely hot quarterback from St. Joe’s. How was this even happening? I tilted the phone toward Lauren. Her eyes lit up.
“Perfect!” she mouthed.
I could tell what she was thinking and I grabbed her hand, suddenly nervous beyond belief.
“Don’t!”
But it was too late. When Lauren decides to do something, she does it.
“He wants to meet up with you now?” she asked giddily. She didn’t even say it overly loudly. It was as if we were having a real conversation.
Out on the basketball court, the cheerleaders gyrated through their number. Peter cocked his ear ever so slightly toward us. My
heart thudded in my chest in time with the crazy dance music.
“Um . . . I guess,” I said.
“So are you gonna go?” Lauren asked.
“I can’t. We’re not done for another twenty minutes or so, and we have rehearsal tonight,” I replied through my teeth. I felt guilty somehow, participating in this charade. It seemed hurtful, suddenly. And wrong.
Then one of the cheerleaders popped up into the air, momentarily distracting me, and when I looked up, Josie was bent over with her butt in the air, looking over her shoulder at Peter.
Why did I feel guilty, exactly?
“I’ll text him back,” I said. “Maybe we can do something tomorrow.”
Lauren gave me a thumbs-up, her hand against her thigh. I cleared my throat and typed back.
CAN’T TODAY. SRY. PEP RALLY PRACTICE THEN HOMEWORK, DINNER, REHEARSAL. FUN FUN FUN! BUT HOW ABOUT TOMORROW?
I sent the text and held my breath. He responded in about two seconds. When my phone beeped, I swear Peter flinched.
TOMORROW NITE GOOD?
I grinned. “He says tomorrow night,” I told Lauren, looking at the back of Peter’s head. His ears were a very deep shade of pink. I texted back.
DEFINITELY.
COOL. TXT ME UR ADDY & WILL PICK U UP @ 7.
I showed the phone to Lauren and we both giggled. Although mine was more nervous than excited. With shaking fingers I texted him the info he needed, then pocketed my phone.
The dance routine ended and Peter jumped up, clapping and whooping, so of course everyone else did the same. I stood up for my sister’s benefit and clapped for her, a satisfied smile on my lips. He could cheer for his JV girl as much as he wanted. I had my own hottie up my sleeve, and tomorrow night I was going to pull him out.
The Studio. It had an oddly self-important name, this place where Claudia spent half her free time.
The
Studio. As if it was the only studio on the face of the planet. Or at least the only one worth mentioning.
I glanced at my watch. I was early. Claudia’s class didn’t start until seven o’clock, and it was only 6:50. Rolling up onto my toes, I looked up and down the lazy side street on which the Studio was located. A woman walked her four large dogs along the opposite sidewalk, each of them so perfectly behaved their leashes weren’t even touching. A few doors down, several children let out a loud “hi-ya” in unison, working their way through tae kwon do drills. Then the clouds shifted and the setting sun glinted off a blue-and-silver sign near the corner, almost blinding me. When I could see again, I read the sign.
MURDOCH’S OUTDOORS: THE HUNTING AND FISHING SPECIALISTS.
My heart gave a flutter as my father’s warning rang in my ears. If Artemis showed up here with her temper on, she would be a serious threat to my existence, especially in my weakened human state. I thought of the arrow I’d left on the floor of the cafeteria and
how useless it would have been anyway, without a bow. Perhaps it was time I armed myself. Just in case.
I tossed my hair behind my shoulder and strolled over to this Murdoch’s establishment. There, displayed proudly in the window, was a tremendous hunting bow, so tall it would have come to my chin with its base resting on the ground. Next to it, a crossbow was propped against a fake rock, its loaded arrow facing the ceiling. There were bear traps and bludgeons and even a slingshot. I couldn’t believe my luck. How much did these things cost? Could I afford one with the paycheck I had coming to me tomorrow night? I felt a prickling sensation inside my mouth and realized I was salivating. I reached for the door.
“True?”
My hand fell and I turned. Claudia and her best friend, Lauren, stood before me, Claudia sporting pink tights, gray leg warmers, white slip-on sneakers, and a tiny black sweatshirt, and Lauren in black tights, a black leotard, gray shorts, and black sneakers.
“Oh. Hello,” I said.
Claudia’s eyes flicked over the camouflage netting strapped to the inside of the glass door.
“Um, what’re you doing?” she asked, letting out a short laugh.
“Shopping,” I replied.
Their jaws dropped.
“In there?” Lauren asked, stunned.
“Do you, like, go fishing with your dad or something?” Claudia asked, slowly starting up the hill toward the Studio. Lauren and I fell into step with her.
I snorted a laugh, imagining me and Ares sitting on a dock somewhere, peacefully letting our lines hit the water as we chatted about our lives. The sky suddenly falling in on top of us was far more likely.
“No, I hunt,” I told her. “I was just going in to look at the bows and arrows.”
“Omigod, no way,” Lauren said. “You, like, actually kill things?”
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Omigod, I could never do that,” Lauren said, her brown eyes wide. “Like, kill Bambi?”
“I don’t hunt fawns,” I said, screwing my face up.
“But still. Hunting is so un-PC,” Lauren told me, flattening a hand in front of her. “Maybe you should find a normal hobby. Like soccer or something.”
“We do have an archery team,” Claudia offered. “You could try that. The only things they shoot at are standing targets.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.” We paused on the wide sidewalk in front of the Studio. A minivan pulled up and spewed out three more girls in tights before speeding off.
“Yeah, it’s mostly guys, but it’s supposed to be a coed team,” Claudia said, lifting her hand to wave at the three skinny girls who trailed by. “You should try it. It’s good to be involved.”
“Why?” I asked.
Lauren and Claudia looked at each other and laughed. “I don’t know. It’s fun,” Claudia said.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Studio, I could see Claudia’s friends warming up their muscles, stretching, and then pirouetting across the room. I could see how they might enjoy this group activity, the camaraderie, the sharing of talent, the endorphins released by physical activity. But I was here to do a job. I didn’t have time for extracurriculars.
“I actually came here just to see how it’s going,” I told Claudia, leaning against a blinking parking meter. “Have you gotten anywhere with Keegan?”
“Um, totally!” Lauren said. “They’re going out tomorrow night.”
“You are? That’s great!” I enthused. “We have to figure out a way for you to bump into Peter. Where’re you going?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know yet,” Claudia replied. “And besides, after we made the plan, I realized it’s not gonna happen. Not on a Friday night before a game. Peter has this whole ritual. We used to order in pasta so he could carbo-load, and then we’d watch some action movie to get him pumped up for the game the next day. There’s no way he’s going to be out anywhere.”
“Well, if he loves you—and I’m pretty sure he does—it can’t hurt to try,” I said. “I just got a phone, and I’m gonna go to the mall to get it activated. Tomorrow I’ll give you the number, and you can text me when you get where you’re going. Then I’ll find a way to get Peter there.”
“If you say so.” Claudia shook her head. “This is so crazy.”
“Crazy, but effective,” I replied.
“I’m kind of starting to like you,” Lauren said, holding up her palm.
I high-fived her, a ritual I’d seen happen countless times, but didn’t quite understand until I felt the satisfaction of my skin slapping against hers, like a punctuation of our mutual achievement. “Thanks.”
“I don’t know if I can do it,” Claudia said. “What if it doesn’t work? What if he’s already, like, in love with that Josie girl?”
“He’s not,” Lauren and I said at the same time, in the same assuring tone.
“What makes you so sure?” she asked. “I mean, they’re always together and I—”
“Hey, guys!”
An adorable boy with lanky limbs and curly blond hair paused on his way into the Studio. He wore black tights and a blue zip hoodie and had a large battered duffel bag on his shoulder.
“Hi, Lance!” the girls sang as Claudia pulled him in for a hug.
“Ready to perfect our piece?” Claudia asked him.
“You know it,” Lance replied. Then he tilted his head at me. “I’m Lance Turska.”
“True Olympia,” I replied. “Nice to meet you.”
“You as well. Anyway, I heard Madame Helene is handing out tickets for the recital so we can start selling them. We want a sold-out show next weekend! Are you inviting Peter? It’d be cool if he came to one of these things.”
“He doesn’t usually?” I asked.
“He always has a practice or a game or something,” Claudia replied. “I’m guessing he’ll be busy again,” she hedged. Clearly she hadn’t told Lance about the breakup and wasn’t about to do it now. Maybe she’d never have to, if my plan did the trick.
Lance sighed a sigh of the world-weary, which made no sense considering how fresh-faced and energetic he was. “That’s what happens when you go out with a football star. See you inside.”
“He’s really never come to one recital?” I asked as Lance trotted off.
“He came to
The Nutcracker
last Christmas,” Lauren offered.
“Besides that, it was just the first one. The day he asked me out,” Claudia said, her eyes shining with nostalgia. “But that was in the spring, and his little sister was dancing. Then last spring he was at some football clinic. But I don’t mind. I would never expect him to miss a game to come see me dance, just like he’d never expect me to miss a recital to come see him play. It’s fine.”
“Still. It would have been cool if he’d found some other way to
support you, like you did for him by joining Boosters,” Lauren said.
“Yeah, I guess. But ballerinas don’t have boosters. And he supported me in other ways.” She looked at me and lowered her voice. “Boy gives a killer foot rub.”
She fell silent suddenly, obviously caught up in the memories and the emotions. My heart went out to her. It was clear she was in love with this boy. We needed to make him realize he loved her back.
Claudia took a deep breath and sort of shook out her limbs like she was a wet dog shaking out her coat. “How did this get so negative? We have a plan, and the plan is going to work. Right, girls?”
Lauren and I looked at each other and nodded. “Right.”
I imagined Claudia and Keegan ensconced at an intimate table at some romantic restaurant when Peter burst in, grabbed Claudia, and kissed her like no one had ever been kissed.
I rolled my shoulders back confidently. “Tomorrow night, we seal the deal.”
I was getting better. I was. I had just sat through ninth-period art for forty-two minutes and had not once looked at Orion. Not once. Not even when the girl next to me had turned her easel toward the boy next to her with the word “Homecoming?” spelled out inside the shape of a big red heart and everyone had applauded. Of course, the easels had been set up in such a way that I couldn’t have seen him even if I’d craned my neck so far I’d fallen off my stool, but that was neither here nor there.