Mutual Hatred - Love Game (7 page)

"This top and maybe that skirt you're wearing? You don't mind if I buy it too, do you?"

Taryn pretended to think about it before grinning, "Hey we can be matching! I saw a red halter top like yours; maybe I'll buy it. That way we've got a fair deal, yes?"

Shelley agreed and they girls made their purchases.

"We have the rest of the afternoon. What do you want to do?" asked Shelley.

"Let's go have lunch. I'm starving and you probably are too," replied Taryn.

The two exchanged looks and said at the same time, "Carl's Jr.!"

Shelley didn't know what it was about Carl's Jr. that attracted them. Maybe it was the greasy fries, or the condiment-filled hamburgers; it was a mystery to them. But it was a known fact that Taryn and Shelley would eat Carl's Jr., anytime, anyplace, anywhere.

They chatted about things going on in their lives over a late lunch and it was a little bit after three o'clock when they decided to head back to Shelley's place.

"I'm so tired. Can I just fall asleep on your bed for like 5 hours?" asked Taryn as she yawned, which cause Shelley to yawn too.

"Sure. I probably won't since I've been up for a total of three hours. But you can crash here and I'll wake you up when it's time to get ready for the party."

"Mm-kay," mumbled an already half asleep Taryn.

Shelley shook her head and spent the afternoon on her computer researching football. She looked up websites that gave coaches tips and found several interesting, helpful ones. She hoped they would help.

Chapter 6 – This Means War

Stunning.

That's how Brandon would have described Shelley when she walked through the front door.. Her little friend too. But Shelley stood out more with that unforgettable long hair and intoxicating smile. And from his seat on Kyle's couch in the living room, he could tell the rest of the male population at the party felt the same way too.

Sick. It made him sick.

But not really. It annoyed him that the moment she arrived at the party, she captivated everyone. And Brandon meant
everyone
. That dumbass, Johnny Nickol, had practically accosted her and was now making her laugh endlessly. His friends were cackling hysterically like hyenas.

Absolutely disgusting.

Who did he think he was? All over their captain like ketchup on a hotdog!

Horrible.

What was she thinking? Johnny Nickol was nothing more than a perverted creep. Didn't their
brilliant
captain know that? So maybe Brandon didn't like Shelley. But he did have a conscience. And he wasn't about to let the football team's 'only hope' get mauled by Nickol. It was time to play hero and save the damsel in distress.

Brandon quickly stood up and made his way to Shelley's side. He could tell she was surprised but masked it by flashing him one of those smiles that made his heart melt.

Okay, so the secret's out.

Brandon Miller was NOT a playboy. He's just the guy who's looking for 'that girl'. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone. Not even his own mother. Truth be told, he told girls he loved them to see their reaction. If he thought he could put up with the aftermath, he'd stick with the girl.

Number of times that Brandon Miller has stuck with a girl after 'I love you'? Zero. Number of time he's broken hearts? Too many to count. We'd need more than two hands for that one. In fact, all the girls he's dated could start a club. The Brandon-Broke-My-Heart-But-I-Still-Love-Him Club.

Shelley wasn't one of
those
girls though. She was genuine. And she was one of the only girls he knew, besides his sister, that didn't have a crush on him. In fact, she hated his guts. Brandon didn't blame her. He'd been kind of stupid with the prank. But after the shaving cream incident, he'd be more careful. He'd get her back for that. She wouldn't even see it coming.

Shelley poked his shoulder. Hard, mind you. "Is there something you wanted?"

"I, ah, need to talk to you," said Brandon.

"I'm listening."

"I umm…can't tell you in front of
them
," he said, gesturing to her friends.

She rolled her eyes. It seemed like she'd been doing that a lot lately. "Uh huh. Well if this is another prank, spare yourself the humiliation of it backfiring on you, Brandon."

"No, I'm serious! I promise I'm not up to anything."

"Right. Last time you promised me something you broke that promise. So I'm supposed to believe you this time?"

"Yeah. Well, no. But yeah!" he fumbled with the words.

Impatiently Brandon grabbed her upper arm and pulled her to the couch he had previously occupied. He ordered Shelley to sit down, but she merely glared at him defiantly.

"You didn't have to drag me! I would have come on my own."

"Yeah well you were being a stubborn donkey."

"What is it with the name calling? Most people call me Shelley, since that's, you know, my given name."

And again, Brandon found himself annoyed with her. "Do you always have to make things difficult for yourself?"

"If it makes things harder for you, then yes," she said brightly. Her tone changed, "What do you want anyways? I mean, you're talking to me
in public
. Are you feeling okay?"

Brandon decided to be point blank with her. "Johnny Nickol is bad news."

Shelley finally decided to sit down. "Yeah, and you're a girl!"

Brandon stood in front of her. He hoped it was intimidating. "Can you take me seriously for once? I'm trying to protect you!"

Her eyebrows went up. Way up.

"Brandon we hate each other. So why are you trying to protect me?"

"First of all, I don't hate you. You annoy me and I dislike you with the fiery passion of a thousand suns, but I don't hate you."

Cue eyes rolling.

"I repeat, why are you trying to 'protect' me? Johnny's been nothing but a good friend to me."

"Johnny's a fag."

"That was so uncalled for!" she cried angrily, "Johnny is NOT homosexual."

Brandon laughed heartily. "That's what he
wants
you to think."

"He's not a homosexual," she repeated stonily.

"He is. Johnny hates women. He thinks they're the 'eternal downfall of men' or something. He's a womanizer. He dates them, pretends to love them, and hurts them, leaving them broken and confused."

"Kind of like you," Shelley said dryly.

"Except I like women. I don't do it because it's fun," he retorted, "Johnny's favorite example is of Adam and Eve. She was the one who was tempted by the snake and it's the downfall of man."

"I refuse to believe that Johnny would do such a thing," said Shelley, "He's not like that. You don't know him the way
I
do."

"I've been playing football with him for years, and I've seen and heard enough."

Those were the same words she'd said to him on Friday, Shelley realized.
'I've seen and heard enough to draw my own conclusions.'

"Why do you care about me anyways?"

"I don't. I just don't want to be blamed if Nickol hurts you, especially if I can prevent it."

"Johnny won't hurt me," Shelley said stubbornly, "He's on my side."

"Only because he's not on mine."

"And I wonder why? You've probably called him a fag to his face and made fun of him!"

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm homophobic."

"Well even if he
is
gay, there's nothing wrong with it."

"So you're still going to hang out with him?" he asked incredulously.

"I can take care of myself. See you Monday," she said coldly, pushing him out of her way as she rejoined her friends.

Brandon grabbed a beer from the table and plopped himself down on the couch. He'd been sitting there all night; he wasn't in the mood to party tonight. Girls had shyly and boldly come up to him and asked if he wanted to 'have some real fun', but he had turned them all down.

Alert the media! That's gotta be a first.

Someone sat down next to him. Brandon turned his head as little as he had to in order to see who it was. Kyle.

"Hey man, I saw you talking to Shelley. You guys friends now?" Kyle asked tiredly.

"Fuck no. She hates me."

"I think you like her."

"I think you're either high or drunk."

Kyle laughed drunkenly. "I think I am too. Damn, all this thinking makes my head hurt!!"

Brandon elbowed Kyle and said seriously, "I tried warning Shelley about Johnny, but she didn't believe me. Maybe you should try telling her; she trusts you."

Kyle's eyes had taken on that glazed look. "Nah, we'll let her find out on her own."

"NO!"

"Do you think you could speak up? I didn't quite catch that," Kyle said as he blinked furiously.

"Just fucking tell her when you're fucking sober."

"I think I need to pee."

"Are you going to tell her?" Brandon demanded.

"Hey don't yell! I've got a pounding headache and my body feel
n
s like its somewhere else."

Brandon rolled his eyes as Kyle got up and headed in the direction of the restroom.
So much for that.
Brandon sat on the couch for what seemed like forever, fending off slutty girls, even though it had only been half an hour. He didn't want to leave because he had nothing better to do. A little while later, Shelley Sinclair unexpectedly sat on his lap.

"Heyyyy you're looking fucking hot tonight Brandon," she slurred.

A drunken football coach? Just great. Whatever happened to the responsible girl she was supposed to be? But the funny thing was her breath didn't smell like alcohol.

"Um, hi Shelley," he said awkwardly.

"Your lips are really nice," she grinned like a madwoman.

"Mhmm, so are yours," he said absently, trying to ignore the fact that her chest was pressed against his.
What the fuck was she doing sitting on his lap anyways?

"Want to see them in action?"

Holy shit.

Without waiting for an answer, Shelley promptly pressed her lips against his. Out of pure instinct, Brandon's tongue prodded her lips to part and immediately they did. He explored her mouth. No complaints. She was a good kisser.

Brandon deepened the kiss. By now one hand was one her thigh, the other around her waist. Her already short skirt had ridden up.

After she'd had enough, Shelley pulled away and said, "Thanks."

She stood up, repositioning her skirt. She spun on her heel and went outside to the patio.

Brandon ran his hands through his hair.
What the fuck just happened here?

He took off after Shelley. When he found her, she was gazing up at the stars in a corner of Kyle's backyard.

"What the fuck was that for?" he angrily demanded.

Shelley glanced at him and said lazily, "I was bored."

"You weren't drunk?!?"

"I've never touched alcohol in my life," she said faintly.

What. The. Fuck!!!

"So you act drunk, kiss me, and walk away because you were BORED?!?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

"You can't fucking do that to a guy."

"Do what?"

"Kiss him like that and just walk away. We have feelings too!"

Shelley was suddenly interested. "Did you feel something?"

"No! But I was fucking turned on and then you got up and left!"

"Consider it payback for the shaving cream," she smirked.

"That's not fair! That one backfired on me!"

"Then maybe you should be more careful when you plan things."

How can she be so fucking casual about this? We fucking made out! I fucking made out with my
coach
!

Oh, hell.

"Now I officially fucking hate you. I'm definitely getting you back for this. Because what you did was low. So fucking low. Even I wouldn't have done that to you!"

"
Don't
underestimate me."

"This time, I mean it. Watch your back."

"See you Monday,
Miller
."

She left him alone with his thoughts. Moments later, someone clapped a hand on his back.

"Way to go, Miller! Making out with the coach! Next thing we know, you'll nail her!" howled Alex Taylor.

"I'm not in the fucking mood to listen to you," Brandon said crossly, "Go the fuck away."

"In your dreams. James and I want the dirty details," said Alex mischievously.

"There aren't any because she fucking did it to get me back for the shaving cream thing!!!!"