This Is So Not Happening (34 page)

“Ready?” she said, dribbling between us.

“Ready.”

Instead of cutting right or left, she came right at me. I backed up fast, almost tripping myself, but she still slammed her shoulder into mine. I felt myself blush as her body grazed past me. She took the ball to the hoop and hit an easy layup, then retrieved the ball and tossed it back to me.

“One–nothing,” she said, taking the defensive position.

I just watched her, tossing the ball from hand to hand. Had she made contact like that on purpose? Was she just messing with me? I decided to test it.

I took the ball just a few steps away from the midline, stopped moving, and lined up the shot. As the ball arced through the air, Ally jumped for it, and missed. When she came down, she tripped right against me. The ball swished through the hoop.

“One–one,” I said, my breath short, even though I’d barely moved.

She looked up at me with those big brown eyes, her chest pressed against mine. “Nice shot.”

Then she took her time moving away, her hand trailing across my pecs.

Yeah. She was definitely doing that on purpose. The rest of the game was pretty even, both scoringwise and flirtingwise. She took the ball up and I grabbed her hand, holding her back as she strained against me. She still made the shot, tossing the
ball underhand at the hoop. I raced forward to try for a layup and she bent down to tackle me at the waist. By the time she got to eleven, we were both giggling like idiots and flushed from contact as much as the exercise.

“Nice game,” I said with a laugh, reaching out to slap her hand.

Her fingers slipped against mine. “Nice game.”

We both sat down on the bottom bleacher. Our knees were touching. I turned toward her, my shoulder grazing hers, and placed my hand on her back. She didn’t move. I slipped it up slowly, trailing my fingers under her hair. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back into my hand. Her whole neck was exposed and I wanted to kiss it so badly I started to salivate. But I controlled myself.

The kissing, as much as I wanted it, was not the ultimate goal here. One step at a time.

“Hey,” I said.

She opened her eyes and looked at me.

“Go to the prom with me,” I said, holding my breath.

Ally slowly smiled. She bent forward, grabbed the ball, and stood up. My hand dropped down. What the hell was she doing now?

She dribbled the ball methodically to center court, lifted it, and hit a sick and perfect three. The ball bounced back toward her and she stopped it with her foot.

“Hit that shot, and I’ll go to the prom with you,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. Man, she was really toying with me tonight. I shoved myself up off the bench and lifted the hem of my shirt to quickly wipe my face.

“Here.”

I held my hands up for the ball. She popped it up with the toe of her sneaker, then tossed it at me. I adjusted the ball a few times, spinning it between my palms. My pulse was racing. I had to make this shot. I had to. My pride, my prom—hell, my chances with Ally—were on the line. I walked over to her. She inched away so I could stand right where she had been standing. I lifted the ball, bent my knees, said a silent prayer, and took the shot.

The ball crashed against the backboard with a loud rattle, and bounced off into the night. My heart sunk.

“Ouch,” Ally said, grimacing.

In that moment I honestly thought she was pure evil.

“Guess that’s that,” I said, irritated.

Then she jogged over, picked up the ball, and brought it back. She held it out to me.

“Did I not mention you get unlimited chances?” she said, arching one eyebrow.

It took a second for what she was saying to sink in, but when it did, I smiled. And suddenly I didn’t even care that she was toying with me. I had my answer. We were going to the prom. Ally Ryan was going to be my date. Ally Ryan was going to be mine again.

With a grin, I took the ball from her, turned around, and let it fly.

The prom was completely amazing. Thanks to Chloe’s intervention, Faith’s pink, black, and white color scheme had been dropped, and now everything was blues and purples and greens. One side of the country club ballroom was decorated to evoke Paris during the daytime, with colorful flowers bursting from baskets, a carefully constructed Pont Neuf over a glimmering fake Seine, and Notre Dame painted on a mural that took up one entire wall. The food was laid out on graded tables, so it felt like browsing an outdoor market, and the waiters, with their trays of hors d’oeuvres, wore black cropped pants, white T-shirts, and berets. The other side of the room was decorated to look like Paris at night, with a huge Eiffel Tower lit up by twinkle lights and glittering fireworks painted onto the mural of the nighttime skyline. Prom photos were taken in front of the iconic tower, which in my humble opinion was way better than a toxic, nuclear mushroom cloud.

But the best part about prom? Jake hadn’t stopped holding my hand since we’d arrived.

“So what do you think? Should we do the formal pose thing and face each other or do the arms-around-you-from-behind thing?” he asked me as we stood on line to have our picture snapped.

I leaned back into his chest, savoring the feeling of having his body so close to mine again. “Arms-around-me-from-behind thing. Definitely.”

Jake grinned, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me, but then the photographer called us up and the moment
passed. I was kind of stunned that he hadn’t gone in for the kiss yet. Not at pre-prom pictures at Chloe’s house, not in the limo, not once at the table. I knew I’d thwarted a couple of attempts at my birthday, but I was still wary then, and yeah, maybe having some fun with him. But had I totally screwed it up? Was he never going to try again?

We stood together on the square of black velvet in front of the Eiffel Tower and toed the tiny masking-tape line. Jake slipped his arms around the waist of my deep purple, one-shouldered dress and I put my hands on top of his.

“All right, say ‘
fromage
!’” the photographer requested with a flourish.

Jake and I just smiled. The flash went off and we walked over to the computer screen to see how it had come out. Jake looked so happy, standing there with his arms around me. So giddy, almost. And I looked even giddier.

“That’s it. That’s our senior prom picture,” I mused quietly.

Jake squeezed my hand and rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna get weepy on me now, are you? Because we’ve only been here an hour. It’s not over yet.”

Just then the pounding dance music switched over to a slower song. I looked up at Jake and grinned. “No, it’s not.”

I tugged his hand and we strolled slowly to the center of the dance floor. My arms slid up around his neck and he held me close around my waist. So close I turned my head and rested my cheek against his chest. Nearby, Chloe was dancing with Will, David twirled Annie around as they laughed, Quinn and Hammond were practically melded together as one. Faith was just leading her date, some guy from Valley we’d never heard of until last week, onto the dance floor, and Shannen, who had
decided to come solo, had momentarily snagged some other girl’s date. Lincoln was even there, dancing with Marni Burt, whose mother—perfectly—owned the homemade-candy store over in Westwood. I watched each of them for as long as they were in view, trying to solidify the moment in my mind. In a few weeks, we were going to say good-bye. After graduation, we might never be in the same place together again. Watching them now, it felt like they were already fading away.

“Hey,” Jake said.

I felt the word rumble through his chest. I leaned back to look up at him.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while,” he said.

My feet stopped moving. “What’s that?”

He smirked. Like I didn’t know. “Just promise me you won’t move this time.”

I smiled and tightened my grip around his neck. “I promise.”

“Good. Because you’re not getting away from me again,” he said quietly.

“No. You’re not getting away from me,” I replied.

But I felt the sting of it even as I said it. Because who knew where Jake was going to be next year? Who knew if we’d be able to make a long-distance relationship work? But I didn’t want to think about that now. I wanted to think about this. This moment. And what Jake had been wanting to do.

Ever so slowly he smiled that sexy smile of his and slid his hand under my hair. I tilted my head back, my eyes fluttered closed, and he kissed me. It was a kiss that felt like something
I’d been waiting for my entire life, not just the last few months. It felt like we were the only two people who had ever kissed and that no one else could ever understand how completely, mind-blowingly perfect it was.

And whatever fears were poking around in the back of my mind, whatever doubts about the future my heart was clinging on to, it really did feel like it was never, ever going to end.

The call was from a 732 area code. My mouth went completely dry. I glanced across the kitchen at my mom and she stood right up from her stool at the island. The terror and hope must’ve been written across my face.

“Well? Answer it!” she cried.

At that moment the doorbell rang.

“Jonah!” my mom shouted. “Get the door!”

“But it’s not for me! It’s Jake’s
girl
friend!” the twit shouted back.

“Just
getthedoor
!” my mother yelled through her teeth.

I picked up the phone. “Hello?

“Hello, is this Jake Graydon?” The voice was familiar. Male. It was a person I had only spoken to once before, but who I’d kind of pinned all my hopes to.

“Yes,” I said, turning toward my mother. We faced each other over the kitchen island. She pressed her fingers flat against her lips. Behind her, Ally walked in with Jonah, looking perfect in a green dress with her hair back in a ponytail. She shot me this
look like
What’s going on?
But I couldn’t even respond.

“Jake, this is Coach Turbeck from Rutgers Lacrosse,” the man on the other end said, his voice booming. “How you doing today, son?”

“Good,” I said, then cleared my throat. “Fine. How’re you?”

Did I sound like as much of a tool as I thought I did? I turned away from my audience. I couldn’t take them staring on top of everything else.

“Well, I’m great, son,” he replied. “I’m always great on a day that I get to deliver good news.”

“Good news?” I repeated.

I put my free hand over my eyes. I did sound like a tool. But I couldn’t take this. My heart was in my throat. I was sweating so bad I was going to have to change my shirt before we left for Shannen’s birthday party.

“Yep. I’m calling to let you know you’ve been accepted at Rutgers University, and you’ve got a spot on my team next spring, if you want it.”

My knees buckled and I turned around. Every last ounce of uncertainty and anguish, disappointment and anger and fear … everything negative I’d felt over the past year … was obliterated with that one sentence.

“I’m in?” I said.

My mother squealed and hugged my brother. Ally’s eyes widened.

“You’re in. Not only was I impressed by your skills on the field, but everyone in admissions loved your essay. That was what really put you over the top.”

I glanced at Ally, loving her more than ever right then.

“Whaddaya say, son? Want to play Scarlet Knight lacrosse?”
the coach asked, sounding like he was stifling a laugh.

“Of course! Yes! Definitely!” I replied. “Coach, thank you so much,” I said, gripping the phone to my ear. “I swear I won’t let you down.”

“I had no inkling that you would, Jake,” the coach replied. “You’ll be getting your official acceptance letter and forms in the mail next week, but I wanted to let you know as soon as I could.”

I swallowed a tremendous lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, son. And welcome to Rutgers.”

“Thank you. Thanks again, sir,” I babbled.

“Anytime. I’ll talk to you soon, Jake. Have a good night.”

“Bye!”

I hung up the phone, dropped it on the counter, and screamed. “I’m in!”

My mother let out a shriek and hugged me so hard I thought she was going to crack my ribs. Jonah slapped my hand.

“In where? Who was that? What’s going on?” Ally asked.

I walked around to her side of the island, grinning the whole way. She took one look in my eyes and her jaw just sort of dropped.

“No,” she said, her fingertips touching my arm. “Not— Really?”

“Yep,” I said. “I’m going to Rutgers too.”

I gazed out across the ocean, the sun hanging low over the horizon. Jake put his arms around my waist from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder.

“Four hours,” he said.

I glanced back at him. “What?”

“Four hours ago, we were still in high school.”

I laughed, turning to look at him. “Wow. Who’s getting all weepy and nostalgic now?”