Play Nice (Make the Play Book 3) (4 page)

“Heather!” I call as I round the corner heading toward the cafeteria. Students whizz past me, smelling of deodorant and BO. A few feet in front of me Heather stops, pivoting. I skid to halt and smile. “Hey.”

But she doesn’t return my smile. Her lips remain in a hard line, her eyes narrowing. She crosses her arms over her chest, and my insides coil. Heather and I have been friends for years. I mean, not like besties or anything, but she’s always been in my circle. “What do you want, Ashley?”

I cock my head to the side. “Why are you giving me attitude?”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t have time for this conversation. Talia’s waiting for me inside.”

A shoulder bumps mine, and I swiftly turn to glare. A couple of boys holding instruments hurry past. When I swing back to face Heather, she’s moving away from me.

“Heather!” I snap angrily. Since when does she ignore me? There was a time she practically worshipped the ground I walked on. None of this makes any sense. Ever since Talia and Josh made out at the party on Friday, everyone has been giving me the cold shoulder. I don’t get it.  “What the hell is going on? Talia hooks up with my boyfriend, and somehow I’ve become the bad person here?”

Heather smirks. “No, Ashley, you haven’t
just become
the bad person. You’ve
always
been the bad person.”

“What?” I recoil from her words.

“Oh c’mon. Don’t act so surprised.” Heather flips a strand of hair over her shoulder. “You know you’re mean to everyone.” She pauses, her expression pensive. “Or maybe you don’t. But you are. And we’re all kinda tired of it.”

“Did Talia put you up to this?” I place a hand on my waist. “You know she’s always wanted to be me. That’s what this is really about.”

Heather snorts. “Listen to yourself. You don’t get it.”

“No,
you
don’t get it.” Anger flaring, I step closer to her. “Talia’s using you. She’s using all of us to climb up the social ladder.”

“No, Ashley, that sounds like you.” Heather shakes her head. “I’m so done with this conversation.”

“You’re done when I say you’re done,” I instruct her.

“I’m sorry, Ashley, but the days of me letting you tell me what to do are over.” She spins on her heels. “I’m outta here.”

“You’re gonna regret this!” I holler after her, but she doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even flinch. It’s as if I haven’t spoken. Like I’m invisible. I glance around the hallway that is almost cleared out. The few stragglers left openly gawk at me. “What are you looking at?”

At my outburst, they scurry off. It gives me a slight sense of satisfaction. But that quickly dwindles when I glance out at the quad and spot Emmy and Taylor sitting on a bench laughing and talking. Not that I want to be sitting with them. Not in the quad.
Eww.

It’s baffling, though. Emmy was a booknerd when we started hanging out. No one gave her the time of day. And when Taylor showed up at the school everyone thought she was a freak. But somehow they both managed to snag the two hottest guys at the school. And not only snag them, but keep them.

I mean, I’d had my fifteen minutes with Cal like so many other girls here. But then he tossed me aside like I meant nothing. He committed to Taylor, overlooking the fact that she was pregnant with another man’s baby. A baby she’s giving up for adoption, but still. After all the times he’s accused me of being a slut, it seems odd to me that Taylor’s pregnancy didn’t scare him off. I mean, I may have been with a lot of guys, but I was never stupid enough to get knocked up.

As I watch Emmy and Taylor interact, my stomach twists. They both appear content, comfortable, and I wonder if I’ve ever been like that. Emmy’s hair is pulled back in a messy bun as if she hadn’t a care in the world. And Taylor is showing off her prego belly like she isn’t embarrassed about it at all. Their easy conversation and quick laughs reveal that they’re not trying to impress each other. They’re simply being together.

Sadness blankets me, and I quickly turn around.

It doesn’t matter how appealing that looks. It can never be my life. I wouldn’t even know how to do that. I’ve been pretending so long, I’m not even sure I know the real Ashley. And the small part of her I do know makes me certain that no one else would be interested in her.

Glancing around, I have no idea where to go. After my encounter with Heather, I’m certain I don’t want to face everyone in the cafeteria. If I get snubbed in front of the entire school, I’ll never recover from that. But it’s not like I can sit in the quad by myself, because then everyone will think I’m a total loser.

My chest tightens, and I struggle to breathe evenly.
How can this be happening?
  I’ve worked so hard to get where I am, and now it’s all crashing down around me. Emotion rises inside of me, moisture pricking my eyes. Blinking, I refuse to give in to them. I swallow hard against the lump in my throat. Exhaling, I lift my head and step forward. The doors at the end of the hall beckon me. I know my car is just beyond them, sitting quietly in the parking lot. At the mere thought, my chest expands. Perhaps I can hide out in there the rest of lunch.

As I walk forward, I’m struck with a memory from fourth grade. I had forgotten my lunch at home and when the bell rang, I could picture it sitting on the counter. Even though I was only a child, I knew exactly what was in my lunch, because I had made it myself. In fact, I can’t remember when I first started making my lunches, but it was probably a year or two before. It was when Dad started working late nights and Mom spent her evenings sucking down wine. Many nights I fended for myself for dinner as well. Mom had given up on being a wife or mother long ago.

But on this fateful day she must have felt like being a mom, because she showed up during lunch clutching the brown paper bag I’d prepared that morning. When she came staggering to me, smiling widely, it was clear that she’d hit the bottle early that morning. I was mortified. Mom would’ve been too if she would’ve realized how she was behaving. No one but me had ever seen her like this. Appearances meant too much to her.

However, I knew that she and Dad had been fighting early that morning. I’d woken up to yelling and screaming, doors slamming. So maybe that was why she’d fallen apart that day. Everyone’s eyes were on me, whispers traveling around the cafeteria. Face flaming, I’d rushed to Mom and snatched the bag out of her hand. I’d grabbed it so hard that it ripped, the food spilling out all over the floor.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” Mom slurred, dropping to her knees and reaching out to gather the food in her arms.

“Mom,” I hissed, grabbing her by the arm. “Get up.”

“I was just trying to--” Her eyes lifted to mine, and shame washed over her face as if the reality of the situation had finally dawned on her. She looked around the room, pink rising on her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. It was the softest, most vulnerable thing my mom had ever said to me.

But at that moment I didn’t care. I wanted her gone. Out of here. She was embarrassing me. So I shook my head, glaring down at her.

Scrambling to her feet, she pressed her lips together, smoothed back her hair. Then she whirled around and hurried out of the cafeteria. When I heard snickering behind me, I spun around, eyeing the offenders. When I found them, I narrowed my eyes, taking note of who they were. And I vowed never to be laughed at again.

Eventually I made them all pay.

And I’d never been made a fool of again.

Well, until now.

Sweet relief fills me when I reach the door at the end of the hallway. I open it and step outside. The minute the door slams behind me, the relief I’d felt seconds earlier dissipates. Josh walks in my direction, Chase by his side.

“Hey, Ash.” He smiles as if we’re the best of friends.

Glaring, I keep my mouth shut.

“Want to join us for burgers.” He holds up a brown paper bag, grease soaking the bottom.

My stomach sours. It’s not an open campus. We aren’t supposed to leave during lunch. But I’m surprised that Josh left. He gets away with everything.

“Oh, that’s right.” He smirks. “You don’t like hamburgers.” Winking at Chase, he adds, “She’s too good for our food.”

Chase guffaws, nudging Josh in the side.

Shaking my head, I shove past them, regretting ever dating Josh. I should’ve known better.

“Cafeteria’s that way, Ash,” he says. I spin around, my gaze meeting his. Understanding washes over him, and for one second I think I see pity in his eyes. But then the smug look returns. “But that’s not where you’re going, is it?”

This whole thing is a joke to him. He ruined my life, and he thinks it’s funny.
Figures.
Anger fills me to the point that my whole body shakes. But I don’t say a word. I know it won’t do any good. He’s already won, and anything I say at this point will make me look even worse. So instead, I keep my head held high as if I couldn’t care less about him. Or about any of them. And I hurry toward my car.

Once inside, I rest my head against the seat and breathe out.

My mom and I never spoke of what happened at my school that day in fourth grade. But when I got home that afternoon, I could see in her eyes that she knew I was ashamed of her. And I wanted to feel bad, but I didn’t. In fact, I was sort of glad that she knew what it felt like.

It was the same way she’d made me feel when I brought home a picture I’d drawn in first grade and she told me it looked like something a two year old would draw, and then she tossed it in the trash. And it was how I felt when I had the solo in my third grade choir and she told me it was okay if I couldn’t sing, that we had plenty of time to figure out what I was good at.

I knew how much it sucked thinking someone was ashamed of you because my mom had made me feel like that my entire life.

Ashley’s not sitting at our table. In fact, I don’t see her in the cafeteria at all. Talia and her friends sit at the end of the bench I’m on, giggling and talking a mile a minute. It turns my stomach. Usually Ashley’s the ringleader, talking louder than the rest of them. I tell myself it’s the only reason I notice her absence.

But I know that’s not true.

“Wanna go hit some balls this afternoon?” Brady slaps me on the back.

I set down the sandwich I’d been holding. At this point it had become more of a prop than anything. Once Talia sat down, I lost my appetite. I hate that she has so much power over me. Normally nothing could keep me from eating.

“Um…yeah. Why not?” I say.

He frowns. “I hardly recognize you, man.”

“What do you mean?” I knit my eyebrows together.

“Um…yeah. Why not?” He mimics me, but he makes his voice sound all whiny and high-pitched. “The Hayes I know would’ve made some joke about hittin’ me in the balls.”

I chuckle. “The only reason I didn’t is because yours are probably too small to find. My aim hasn’t been that great lately.”

“Aaand, he’s back!” Brady clamps a hand down on my shoulder.

“Who’s back?” Josh and Chase slide onto the bench across from us.

My stomach tanks. So much for my mood lifting. Brady shifts his position on the bench, and it creaks beneath him.

“No one,” he says, his voice taking on a hard edge.

Josh dips his hand into a brown paper bag, and he pulls out a greasy hamburger. I’m usually a fan of greasy fast food, but today it sickens me. Maybe because it’s in Josh’s grabby hands.

“It’s a nice day.” Brady jabs me in the side. “Wanna go out to the quad?”

I raise a brow, considering his words. I’ve sat at this same table every day since freshman year. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever gone out to the quad. My gaze scans the table. Things have changed. With Cal and Chris gone, Talia at one end of the table and Josh at the other, it’s not the same place it used to be.

“Sure.” I gather up my stuff and stand.

“Where are you guys going?” Josh asks.

“We’re gonna go hang with the cool kids,” I joke.

Josh’s lips curl downward. Not letting him respond, I push away from the table. Brady and I weave our way through the room until we reach the doors. Placing my palm on the glass, I press it open and step outside. Brady’s right. It is a nice day. Warm. Springlike, even though it’s fall. The scent of grass and clean air fills my senses. To my right, I spot Emmy and Taylor.

“Man, she looks ready to pop,” Brady comments.

I nod. “Seriously.” She appears miserable, all bloated and round. When Cal first started dating Taylor, I didn’t get it. It’s not that she wasn’t attractive, but she didn’t fit his normal type. She was edgy and dark looking, and had a major chip on her shoulder. But she began to soften the more time she spent with him. And soon I saw her the way he must have. I noticed how pretty she was. But right now her face and body were all puffy, and I wondered what Cal would think if he was here. What is wrong with me? I sound like Ashley. Of course Cal would still find Taylor attractive. He loves her. That doesn’t change simply because she’s ballooned out. Besides, it’s not like she can help it.

“Hey, guys.” Emmy waved us over. “What are you doing out here?”

“We’re not vampires,” I quip.

“That’s too bad. It would definitely liven things up if you were.” Peering up at us, Taylor shields the sun with her hand.

Brady laughs. “I can bite your neck if that helps.”

“Dude.” My head snaps up in his direction. Even Taylor’s eyes widen. Emmy stretches her mouth out in a “yikes” expression.

“Ah, shit.” Brady scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I forgot you were Cal’s girl for a minute.” He shakes his head. “It was just a joke. I wasn’t really gonna bite your neck.”

Taylor waves away his words. “Don’t worry. I didn’t think you were hitting on me.” She glances down at her ever expanding body as if that’s all the explanation we need. “Of course I’m not sure that Cal will agree when I tell him what you said.”

Brady’s face pales.

“Kidding.” She giggles. “You guys are too easy.”

I’m about to spout off some joke like, ‘if I’m too easy, why are you the one pregnant,’ but think better of it. We all know Taylor’s situation, and it’s not a joking matter. I’ve been known to take my jokes too far, and I’ve been trying to work on that.

“How are Cal and Chris doing?” Brady asks. I’m sure he’s genuinely curious, but a part of me wonders if he only asks as a way of changing the subject.

“Good,” Emmy answers. “They’re adjusting to college life.”

Taylor snorts. “Oh, come on, Chris texts you like every two seconds. He’s not adjusting to being away from you at all.”

Emmy smiles, her face coloring. Then she whacks Taylor in the leg good-naturedly. “You’re one to talk. Cal texts you just as much.”

“That’s just because he worries about me. He’s worried I’ll sit down and never be able to stand back up.” She laughs, and Emmy joins in.

It’s the longest conversation I’ve ever had with Taylor. Last year she was always with Cal, and no one else could get close to her. But what I did see of her, I assumed she was sullen and boring. Turns out, she’s not that different from me. It becomes even more apparent to me why Cal fell for her.

I know exactly why Chris fell for Emmy. She’s pretty, smart and sweet. It’s the same reason I used to have a crush on her. I would have gone after her, too, if I wasn’t so scared of Cal. He’d made it pretty clear to all of us that his sister was off limits. Of course, I guess that wasn’t exactly true, since he allowed his best friend to date her.

Then again, I don’t think he exactly allowed it. In fact, I distinctly remember the fight they got into when he found out. But eventually he came around. And I guess it’s for the best that I never dated her. It’s obvious that she and Chris are meant for each other.

“All right. Help me up.” Taylor grimaces, placing a hand on her large belly. “I gotta pee.”

Emmy chuckles while reaching out to push Taylor up off the bench. Brady raises his arm and latches onto her hand, guiding her to a standing position. She throws him a smile of gratitude, but I give him a stern look. He swallows hard, his face sobering.

Taylor sighs. “If I’m not back in five, come look for me, Em. Make sure I didn’t fall in.”

“There’s no way you could fall in,” Emmy points out. “You couldn’t fit.”

“Shut up.” Taylor sticks out her tongue before slowly turning around and waddling off.

“She must be due any minute,” I muse aloud.

“Nope. Not for another two months,” Emmy says.

“Yikes,” Brady says.

I nod.

Emmy giggles. “I know, right? I think she’s ready now.”

“I bet.” The minute the words leave my mouth the bell peals.

Emmy leaps up. “Oh. I better bring Taylor her stuff. She’ll never make it back here in time.”

“Need help?” I offer.

“No, I got it,” she responds. Then she gathers up both of their backpacks and scurries off, one on each shoulder.

When she’s out of earshot, I smack Brady in the arm. “Dude, you need to lay off of Cal’s girl.”

“We told Cal and Chris we’d watch out for them.”

“Yeah. Watch out for them, not flirt with them.”

He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips. “I can’t help it if she’s drawn to my charm.”

“You know Cal will be back for holidays, right?”

His face grows serious. “Fine. I’ll try to dial back my natural charisma around her.”

I snort. “Oh, okay.” I’m about to toss out another joke when I spot Ashley sauntering up from the parking lot. Did she leave? I think of Josh and his fast food burger, but I know she wasn’t with him. Not that I’d put it past her but if they were hooking up again, she would’ve been hanging on his arm making sure Talia knew all about it. Besides, the look on her face tells me she’s been alone. It’s not the usual “Ashley” look. Normally she’s smug and arrogant. Right now she appears unsure, timid, and insecure. When she steps into the hall, her gaze darts around as if she hopes no one notices her. The Ashley I know welcomes attention. She doesn’t hide from it. But this isn’t the Ashley I know, and my heart pinches. I don’t know why I care, but for some reason I do. Seeing her like this does something inside of me. Something that makes me uncomfortable. I think about Talia sitting at the end of the table chatting with all of her friends, girls that used to follow Ashley around like her shadow.

But Ashley wasn’t with them. She was apparently hiding in the parking lot.

Talia has become the new Ashley. Maybe that was what the kiss with Josh was about. It was a way for Talia to become queen bee. It angers me further.

“Don’t do it, man,” Brady cuts into my thoughts.

My head swivels in his direction. “Do what?”

He nods toward Ashley. “Get involved with Ashley.”

“I’m not,” I insist. “I don’t even like her.”

“Well, you might want to inform your face.”

Averting my gaze, I smooth out my features, embarrassed by his words. It’s not true anyway. I’m not interested in Ashley. Sure, I may have been at one point, but I know better now.