T is for...he's a TOTAL jerk (Grover Beach Team #3) (21 page)

“Hey, girls, what’s going?” Alex asked as he lifted one leg over the backrest of Simone’s chair and took a seat right behind her, moving her forward to the edge but wrapping one arm securely around her middle.

Nick pulled a chair from a close table and turned it around so he straddled it backward, next to me. “Hey, Finn Girl. What’s so urgent that you had to see me straight away?”

Yeah, what was that again, Simone?

I shrugged. “Umm…nothing important, really. So…you guys been playing video games?”

Simone banged her head on the table.
“Ugh, Sam. It doesn’t work like that.”

“What?” I snapped at her, lifting my shoulders. “I just don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What’s not a good idea?” Nick wanted to know then—of course.

Simone lifted her head, shoving her hair out of her face, and fixed Nick with a determined expression. “All right, since Sam doesn’t want to do it, could you please flirt a little with her?”

Nick stared back at her for a couple of seconds, then he tilted his head at me like he was deliberating the idea, but in the end he looked back at Simone and said,
“What?”

Simone growled, frustrated. “We want to show Tony that he should take Sam a little more seriously or she’ll be off with someone else. And we need your help for this.”

“Nuh-uh, baby,” Alex said behind her. “You can’t expect us to betray our pal.”

“I can and I do.” She shifted between his legs so she could look at him over her shoulder. “Last night, you said yourself that Mitchell needed a kick in his butt to work up the guts to ask Sam out. Or
didn’t
you?”

“Well, yeah. But I didn’t mean we should trick him. I mean, he’s our friend
after all.”

“Yes.” Nick sent me a quirky look. “No offense, Sam, but I don’t think he’d like it if I fooled around with you.”

“But that’s the whole point of it,” Liza explained. “If he doesn’t like it, he’ll realize that he likes her more than just as a friend. Get it?”

The boys looked at each other for a moment. Eventually, Nick shrugged. Alex reasoned, “Weird girl logic.”

“Guys! Do I get a say in this, too?” I grumbled, because I didn’t want anyone to help me make Tony jealous. I didn’t want Tony jealous at all. Heck, I was done with him. Couldn’t they understand that?

“No!” all three girls replied at once.

Fantastic. I was so screwed.

Nick scooted a little closer to me. “So basically you want me to do what? Sit with you like Simpkins
and Winter?”

I scrunched up my face. “In fact, I’d feel very uncomfortable if you did that.”

He leaned in to my ear and said in a very low and almost whiny voice, “I think I would, too.” Sounding far too sweet for his six-foot something, he made me giggle.

At that moment, I caught a glimpse of Tony looking over at us. He’d come back from the other room and wiped the boards now. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

Oh my
God
. Did this mean Simone’s stupid plan was already working?

Tony stopped wiping. Our gazes locked across the distance. His brows suddenly pulled to a deep V, but the glare wasn’t meant for me. He looked to my right—where Nick sat and was just putting his arm around my shoulders.

“Hey, Tony!” Nick shouted. “Can you bring the girl a lollipop? I hear she’s on detox already.”

Next, I felt Nick’s
breath against my cheek as he whispered, “If he kills me for that, it’s your fault.”

“Not mine. Simone’s,” I hissed back.

Tony came over to us. He didn’t say a word but tossed a lollipop on the table. It bounced with a hard clicking sound, and I caught it in my lap. It was cherry flavored. I looked at his face and croaked a hoarse, “Thank you.”

He didn’t reply. As he turned on the spot, ready to head off again, Alex asked him something about their trigonometry class, but I couldn’t listen in, because Nick bumped against my shoulder then.

“Hey, Finn Girl, will you come to our soccer game on Saturday and cheer for us?”

I dragged my gaze away from Tony, looking helplessly at the other girls. We had talked about it once this week, but apart from Allie and another girl called Teresa, none of us felt ready for it. And then I’d also missed the training yesterday.

“Are you girls going?” I asked them.

Simone shrugged. Liza shook her head, looking as uncertain as I felt. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I can hardly keep the steps in my mind.”

“I’d say we skip this one and cheer at their next game,” Simone suggested. “We can go watch the game together.”

“Just what I thought,” I agreed.

“Ah, shame.” Nick leaned back and pouted in a very unmanly way. “I really wanted to see you dance. I heard it looks”—his pout turned into a smirk— “
hawt
.”

I laughed. “Who said that?”

His lips sealed for once, Nick glanced at Tony, who still stood next to Alex. I followed his gaze. An awkward silence stretched between the guys. Slowly, Tony’s lips curled in the parody of a smile. “Thank you,
Nick
.”

“You’re welcome,” Nick replied, looking smug.

Thursday and Friday were quiet. Thank God. I needed the time to calm my nerves after what happened with Tony. Ignoring him—or rather not looking at him at school when my mind seemed permanently fixed on him still—became easier and easier. Susan said that he was staring at me a lot during lunch breaks. As long as he didn’t talk to me, I didn’t care, I told myself.

There would come a day when I would probably speak to him again. Maybe even hang out with him and have fun, like I had with the others. But for now that day was shoved far away into the future when I knew I could do all this and not fight the impulse to throw myself at him.

I also was grateful for a timeout from Cloey. No jibes from her for the rest of the week. Whew. I could breathe again.

But she was so silent, it started to scare me. I didn’t trust her one bit. Especially after what Tony had told me about her—how scheming she could be. I kept a wary distance.

On Saturday, I got up early, because the girls and I had a plan. The Bay Sharks would meet the Rabid Wolves at two thirty p.m. today. And we intended to wear our team’s colors for the game.

Since boring slacks and just a blue tee seemed not enough, we’d decided to first go shopping together, then meet the guys before the game and borrow some old jerseys from them. Shortly before noon, I came back home with cool washed-blue jeans I got from H&M, a brand new pair of dark red tennis shoes, and a matching bandana in my bag. All I needed now was a spare jersey from Nick, which he’d promised to lend me on Wednesday at Charlie’s.

After I showered and dried my hair in a saucy style, making the ends stand out, I slipped into my new clothes, topping them with a gray tee for now. Downstairs, I twirled in front of my aunt.

“You look great. I love those shoes!” she exclaimed. “Did you just get them?”

“Yes. All my friends got the same. We want to support our team.”

Cloey entered the living room then, already dressed in her soccer outfit. If she’d been a little more
my cousin
and not my enemy since I’d come to live in her house, I would have asked her if I could borrow one of her jerseys. But she was cold as ever, and I decided I’d better stick with Nick.

“They look rather expensive,” Cloey said with a knowing voice, nodding her chin at my red Nikes. Then she arched one brow at her mom. “I’m wondering if now we know who took the money from your purse.” After that she gave me a sly smile and walked into the kitchen.

Slowly, I turned to my aunt. “What does she mean?”

Pamela grimaced, obviously at a loss of words. “The two hundred dollars you gave me from Jack last weekend. I wanted to pay Jab Jenkins for his work this morning, but the money had disappeared.”

My throat went dry. “Disappeared?”

“I carried it in my purse all week. But it wasn’t there this morning. So we think someone must have taken it.”

My eyes grew wide. “And you think that was
me
?”

Pamela came forward and took my hand, her look sincere.
“Of course not! I know you’re not a thief, Sammy.” As she sighed, I had the feeling she didn’t even realize she had. “But you would tell me if the money your mom is sending you isn’t enough for you, right? I mean if you need anything, you can ask me, anytime. You know that.”

Oh my God. She did think I’d taken it. How could she? If it was Jack who accused me, I would have been more likely to believe it.
But
Pam
? I loved her like my own mother. I would never steal anything from her—from anyone,
ever
.

My hands shook. I pulled away and took a step back. My throat constricted with hurt. It took quite an effort to keep my voice steady and cold as I said, “I’ll be at a friend’s party after the game. You don’t have to stay up and wait for me.” Then I turned around and headed out.

“Sammy! Wait. Sam…”

Ignoring her pleading, I slipped out the door and strode off. The mistrust of my family cut deep into me. Honesty was one of my main principles, if not the top one. Pamela knew this. She knew
me
. What made her doubt me?

I swallowed against a tight throat. Oh, of course, I knew whose doing it was. Clenching my teeth, I walked a little faster. That was the last straw. I wouldn’t take shit from Cloey any longer. I would make her pay for trying to destroy my life.

But not today.

It was sunny and warm, and the day had started out too nice with my friends. I was looking forward to the soccer game and even more to the party at Ryan Hunter’s house later. I had found a way to deal with the problem called “Anthony J. Mitchell” by not looking at him and staying away. Now I simply refused to let my cousin destroy it all for me.

After a few deep breaths, I could finally shake the anger off and Cloey out of my thoughts. Today, I was going to have fun. No matter what.

When I reached the soccer field, some of the players were already there and in the middle of stretches while others jogged back and forth between the goal posts for warm-ups. I spotted Susan with them, and Sasha and Alex. Allie and Simone sat on the front bench of the bleachers. They both wore bright blue jerseys with a red shark at the back, which they’d gotten from Sasha and Alex.

I joined the girls, settling down beside Simone. A moment later, Liza and Ryan came walking toward us hand in hand, Liza wearing her boyfriend’s shirt, too. Nervously, I scanned the place for Nick. The game was going to start in fifteen minutes, and I still had to change. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Instead my gaze landed on Tony. He was sitting on the trainer bench and tying his cleats. Once again I was struck by how gorgeous he looked in the light blue soccer clothes. He came over with the rest of the team. The girls kissed their guys and wished them luck for the game.

Susan leaned closer and said in a rumbling deep voice, “How about it, Summers? Want to kiss me for some luck?”

Did I say that I loved Susan? She made me grin during the most difficult situations. And just for that, I blew her a romantic kiss, like I was a princess and she the stable lad. Everyone laughed. Even Tony fought against a smile when I sneaked a sideways glance at him. The sight of it eased some of the frustration from the events back home in my chest.

For one impossible moment, I wanted to blow him a kiss, too. However, he noticed my gaze on him and lifted his brows.

Yeah, right. As if I’d tell him I wanted to send him a kiss. I looked away quickly. But warmth sneaked to my cheeks. Fortunately, Nick arrived then and, already in a hurry, he tossed a bundle of blue fabric at me.

“Sorry for being so late. Here’s your jersey, Sam,” he said, slightly out of breath.

I hurried behind the bleachers to trade my gray top for the blue one, but when I looked down at myself, disappointment filled me. “Nick?” I shouted as I walked back to the others. “How old were you when you wore this shirt?”

“Fourteen.”

As I turned the corner, Liza sucked in a breath and Simone clapped her hand to her mouth.

“You’ve always been on the tall side, haven’t you?” I told Nick with a wry face.

He stared at me, pursing his lips. “Maybe use a belt and make it a mini-dress?”

“Ha. Ha.” I lifted the hem of the shirt from my knees. “A ball gown would be more like it.” The short sleeves almost reached my wrists. Just my luck that I’d asked the tallest guy in the team for his shirt.

Susan coughed into her fist,
then said in a slurred way, “Tony has a second one.”

“What?” I wasn’t even sure if she was talking to me.

Tony fixed her with an annoyed scowl.

Susan lifted her shoulders and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Now, come on,” she said to him. “I know you have a second jersey in your backpack. You always trade in the middle of a game. Would it kill you to lend it Sam today?”

Not answering, Tony folded his arms over his chest.

“For heaven’s sake, give it to her already,” Liza snapped at him, rolling her eyes. “We’re doing this for
all
of you guys. And you don’t want Sam to look like Casper the ghost, do you?”

Yeah, she could be so charming. It coaxed out a smirk from Tony as he stared at me for a long moment. Then he tilted his head in a challenge. “You want it?”

Ah, shit. I would have taken it if he’d tossed it at me and left. But giving me a choice—more, sort of wanting me to ask for it—that was mean.

I chewed on my bottom lip.

“Of course she wants it,” Simone cut in.

Tony didn’t take his eyes off me. “I’m not talking to you, Simpkins.” His tone was friendly but determined. He arched a brow.
“Now?”

After another deep breath, I finally nodded, mumbling, “Yes. That would be great.” I rolled my eyes.

The corners of his mouth tilted up. As he went to fetch his jersey, I scowled at Susan and Liza. They both smiled in the sweetest way at me.

Tony came back with the extra jersey draped over his shoulder. I tugged it down. Before I could head around the bleachers, though, he caught my wrist. Spinning me back to him, he dipped his head and looked me in the eye. I sucked in a breath. His gaze softened the very next instant.

“Don’t put paper shreds into this one when you give it back to me,” he said in a low rumble, so only I could hear.

“Won’t happen,” I answered, fighting against my shaking voice. “I don’t have any more drawings from you.”

I pulled free and strode off behind the bleachers once more, my heart still pounding like a base drum. Securely out of sight of the others, I couldn’t resist sniffing Tony’s jersey. Oh damn, how I’d missed that scent…

I pulled off Nick’s shirt and changed into this one. It was still too long, but the sleeves only reached to my elbows and the hem hung loosely at the middle of my thighs. Shoving it up to my stomach, I wound the fabric around my hand,
then made a casual knot at my side. This way, it changed from a nightgown to a nice belly top, showing off my piercing. Far better.

After I tied the bandana around my neck, I shook my shoulders to look relaxed before I strolled back to the others. No one, least of all Tony, should know how excited I was to wear something from him again.

Avoiding his gaze, I walked up to Nick and gave him his soccer jersey back. Whistling through his teeth, he gave me a slow onceover. “Nice, Summers,” he purred aloud for everyone to hear.

I rolled my eyes. Wondering if he really liked what he saw or if he still was on that ‘let’s make Tony jealous’ trip, I offered him an easy smile.

Then Simone surprised me as she exclaimed, “Hell, Sam, you look
hot
in that jersey! What do you think, Tony?”

Losing all my nonchalance in an instant, I turned to them. The smile slipped from my face. My palms turned sweaty. What was he going to say?

He looked at me for a long time. Multiple emotions played out in his eyes, but I couldn’t label even one precisely. Then his expression turned totally blank. “Well, it’s better than before.” He shrugged, turned around, and headed out onto the field.

Everyone was silent for a couple of seconds. Then Liza nudged my shoulder with hers and said in a low voice, “Ah, never mind. He’s a jerk.”

I took a deep breath, then lied, “I don’t mind.” Fighting for my casual smile to come back, I stepped onto the bench, kissed Nick on the cheek, and wished him good luck for the game.

When the guys headed out after Tony, the girls and I found a seat on the bleachers again. The game started a few minutes later.

It probably wasn’t the most interesting game in the world, but it was the first I’d ever watched from beginning to end. Our team was playing really well, soon taking the lead. Ryan and Alex each scored within the first fifteen minutes. Then the Rabid Wolves turned the tables on them. It was Cloey who shot a goal next and balanced the score once more.

Susan looked adorable out on the ground, but she didn’t get the ball very often and had few chances to shoot a goal. It didn’t matter. She seemed to be enjoying herself.

In the second half, Tony and Ryan were on a roll, as both of them scored two more goals, leaving the other team far behind. Liza, Simone, Allie, and I jumped from our seats each time, hollering and whistling.

The atmosphere among the spectators was amazing.
Intoxicating. Every time the Bay Sharks scored, people started shouting:

Watch out!

Turn
around!

The Bay Sharks are on the field
.

We will win and you will yield.

Back off!

Look around!

They bare their teeth
—
you watch your back.

The Sharks are ready to attack!

Go, Bay Sharks!

It was the team’s anthem, and everyone clapped their hands and stomped their feet in rhythm.

There were only fifteen more minutes to play when the Wolves apparently decided they needed to change to a more aggressive style if they wanted to turn the game around once again. One of their female players had a nasty go at Susan when she had the ball. The girl, with long poppy-red hair, kicked Susan in the leg, disguising the foul as an accident. Susan Miller gave an earsplitting shriek and slumped to the ground, clutching her knee.