Rival Love (2 page)

She has no idea. Not a freaking clue. I want her to stop talking now. Why won’t she stop talking? “I’m so glad someone Liv’s age will be around to help her get adjusted to the school.”

“My pleasure. I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to get my run in.” My mother is oblivious to the sarcasm lacing his words, but I notice.

Brian blocks the exit to the back door. “Hold up. I need your help with their bags and we need to talk about the Danielle Samson episode on my front porch.”

I smirk as Caleb’s face slowly changes from a smile to a frown.

Ha. Stupid Bobcat! “Fine,” Caleb grumbles. They make their way past my mother and I. My mother gets a peck on the lips from Brian, and I get a snort from Caleb.

As soon as the boys leave, my mother squeals, “What do you think?”

“I think this place sucks. Are we done pretending yet? If we leave now, I might be able to get my life back.”

My comments bring her down from her glowing high. “Skylar, I’m happy. This is our home now. As soon as you start accepting that the better off things will be for the both of us.”

“I’m a Bulldog, Mother! This isn’t my home. I’m far from it.”

Chapter 2

Caleb

The scraping of a fork across a dinner plate is all I hear at the moment. Scrap-scrap-scrap. If this is how dinner is going to be every night, I’m eating in my room. I grit my teeth as the fork slides across the plate causing a loud, drawn-out
scra-a-a-a-p-p
sound filling my ears and sending me over the edge. “For the love of it! Eat something or just say you’re done and be done. Quit moving your food to the center of the plate and then back to the edges. My ears can’t take any more!”

Skylar looks up with wide eyes. A strange, almost burnt-colored orange locks with my eyes for a moment then she drops them back to her lap. “May I be excused?” she mumbles.

“Liv, you haven’t even eaten anything.” Erin sighs.

She glares at Erin, throwing her napkin down at the plate, and scoots from the table. “I’m sorry, Mother, I must have left my appetite back at our house. The place strangers are currently moving into.”

“Knock it off.”

I should stop staring at the two of them arguing but I can’t. My uncle coughs. “Isn’t this the best pot roast you ever had Caleb?”

I blink and look over at my uncle Brian then back at Skylar. Her mouth hangs open for a minute then she pushes her chair back under the table. “Brian, as always, it’s been fun.” She turns to Erin. “Mother, I’m sure dinner was great but I’m not hungry and sitting here until everyone else finishes is not only boring me, but it’s disturbing Caleb. So, I’m going to do everyone a favor and go to my room.”

“Liv…” The brat has already walked out of the room, taking her plate with her. My uncle narrows his eyes at me.

I shrug. “What?”

“You know what,” he says in a clipped tone.

“Come on. She was playing with her food.” Erin starts to pull herself away from the table. My uncle shoots me another look and I hold back my annoyance. “Fine. I’ll go apologize.”

Uncle Bri smiles and Erin does the same. When did I lose my man card, and for that matter, when the hell did my uncle lose his? ‘Cause before he met Erin, he was all about the love ‘em and ditch ‘em in a month. Then he met Erin around April. It was during one of my baseball games, Sky had one before mine. I never dreamed my uncle would get serious with her mom. One thing lead to another and our walls went from plain white to some kind of
Better Homes and Gardens
display. Yeah, someone upstairs has really got it in for me.

Going up the stairs two by two, I try to think of what to say. Nothing is coming to mind. Hell, how will I even explain this to my friends? If they find out who moved in, they’ll rip me a new one. She shouldn’t be here! That’s what I’m going to say: you don’t belong here so get the hell out.

Right outside her door, a dark shadow blurs past the small opening. I don’t bother knocking. Placing a hand on the grain, I push it open. The girl isn’t on her bed, near her desk, or digging in one of the many cardboard boxes I had to haul up to her room. Nope. She’s sitting on the window seat with her back facing me. I hear her sniffle. “Over? Over. Can this day get any worse?”

Aw damn
. I can’t be a total dick to a sobbing chick, no matter who it is. “Hey,” I say.

She turns with her left hand swiping tears from her eyes. “What do you want?”

Forget it. If she’s going to be all snappy, then it’s game on. “Look, bitch.” Her eyes widen and I shrug. “It’s what they call female dogs isn’t it?”

“Har. Har. Come up with that one on your own did you? So effing original.”

“Whatever!” Punk-ass know-it-all. Most irritating chick I’ve ever had to talk to by far. “Look, I don’t want you here. You don’t want to be here. We totally understand each other on this point. But if you’re going to fake eating because you’ve got, I don’t know some damn problem with food, I suggest using some plastic forks and plates.” I start to turn toward her door and then raise a finger. “Oh, and another thing, on Monday, don’t you even think about running to me for help. If the entire student body attacks you, that’s your problem not mine. Got me?”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t ask you for help if you were the last person alive! Now get the hell out of my room.”

“If I were you I wouldn’t bother unpacking these.”

She shoots me a look. “Are you done lecturing me?”

I throw up my hands. “Almost. I promised Erin I’d show you around school in the morning. So, be ready at eight o’clock. I’ve got things to do.”

She laughs. “Oh, are you scouting for some receivers that can actually catch the ball?”

I shake my head. “Yeah, right after I give your team a real playbook, maybe then you can play some challenging teams.”

“You think you’re so great don’t you, Bobcat? Well, you’re not! I could outplay you in any sport.”

I step closer to her. My eyes roam her body, noting her tight curves and small chest. “You better watch it, Bulldog. This is my territory.”

Chapter 3

Skylar

Since two in the morning, I’ve stared at this black screen. Waiting. No,
hoping
it would light up with a familiar name along with that buzzing sensation against my palm. I can’t remember the last time my cell has been so dead in my hands. My best friends since kindergarten, Sam and Mikia, haven’t talked to me since Tuesday afternoon when they helped me pack up my last box for this disastrous move. Three days. It feels like a lifetime. Why are they not calling me?

Twelve flipping years we’ve been friends. That’s like a solid friendship. Diamond quality. Unbreakable. Right?

Blinking at the screen, reality slams into me hard. No one’s going to call. To them, I’m dead. Even my own boyfriend of two years, Kevin, ended it between us last night. A stabbing pain courses throughout my body as tears roll down my face.

Sobbing quietly, I notice my door springs open and I roll over to my side. Wiping away any stray tears, I sniffle. “What?”

“Um, I thought I made myself clear yesterday. School tour. Today. In the morning,” Caleb says in a cold tone.

I thought Mom told me this kid was smart. He seems a few French fries short of a Happy Meal. “And?”

“And nothing. Get your ass up. We need to do this now.”

I snort. “As if I care what you want me to do. Go away.”

“Let me be clear, you spoiled little brat. I’m not playing games with you today. I’ve got practice and other shit I gotta do. And I’m not about to be late and run laps so that you can throw a damn tantrum.” He yanks open a box marked clothes and tosses a pair of my skimpy shorts and a t-shirt at me. I’m so not wearing the clothes I clean the house in outside. “You’ve got three minutes. I don’t care if you haven’t changed, or all you’ve got on is a pair of shorts and freaking bra, I’ll drag you out of this house kicking and screaming.”

The heck he will. I fold my arms over my chest and glare at him. “Whatevs.”

He shuts the door and I stay on my bed. He can kiss my butt. If Caleb Morgan thinks he can talk to me like that and I’ll just do whatever he says, he’s got another thing coming.
Idiot.

My door opens again, and Caleb looks over at the clothes, then at me. “Fine.” He marches over to me. Fingers bite into my arms and he yanks me to my feet. I kick his shins, and aim at other body parts, but he continues to drag me out of the room. My door slaps shut. Caleb all but carries me down the flight of steps and out the front door.

I’m in full protest the whole time. “I don’t have shoes, jerk!”

“I told you. But I knew you’d be like this so I put your tennis shoes in the car.”

A car with screaming girls passes by the house, honking their car horn. My socks dig into the lawn immediately. Caleb waves at the passing car. Once they’re at least three houses down the road, he turns his attention back to me.

“You’re trying to get me killed out here!” I scream.

He gives me a stupid smirk. “Get over yourself, Bulldog. Like it or not, we have a tour to get over with and unlike you, I have friends here. I wave to them. I talk to them. And I sometimes date them. Let’s go.”

“No!”

“Have it your way.” He wraps his arms around my waist and hauls me over his left shoulder.

Balling up my hands, I beat them furiously against his backside. “Put me down! You stupid, arrogant jackass, I mean it!”

Caleb doesn’t let up. He somehow opens his car door and places me down in the passenger seat. “Shoes are on the floor, brat. If you want to keep your limbs I suggest you keep them in the car.” I huff and he slams the door shut.

The door to the driver’s side pops open and from the corners of my eyes, I watch him slide against the gray interior. I pick up my shoes and give him a disgusted look. “These are my cleats.” I dangle them in front of his face.

He shrugs like this is nothing that concerns him. If I didn’t hate him so much right now, my OCD side would compliment him on the impeccably clean inside of his VW Passat. “I refuse to do this! I’m not stepping foot in that school and if you attempt to manhandle me again, I’ll bite you.”

Caleb starts the engine and laughs. It’s one of those deep, melts-butter kind of laughs. The kind you don’t mind hearing, because when you do, it’s a treat. Kevin has a similar laugh. God, I miss home. I miss my boyfriend. My friends. My life. Why is this nightmare not ending?

“Hey. Hey? Shit…I’m sorry. Look, you don’t need to cry,” he says as he starts to reach across my seat, toward his glove compartment. I slap his hand away. “There are some tissues in the glove.” He doesn’t try to reopen it though.

I don’t bother with them and just use the sleeve of my t-shirt. “Can we pretend that we did this tour thing?”

“Gee, there’s a thought.” He turns his glare toward me and shakes his head. “Oh, wait…no. If you think I’m going to let you have something to hold over me, you’re clearly mistaken, Fletch. That’s not how this works. See, I, unlike you, still have a life, and I plan on living it. So, when Erin or my uncle asks you about the tour you won’t have the answer of ‘What tour?’ and then I won’t end up grounded.” He makes a noise. And to think, for a second there I actually thought he could be decent. Pffft! “I hope for your sake Erin stocks up on steaks. I’m predicting a lot of black eyes and busted lips, possibly some bald spots in your future.”

I gulp. As much as I want to punch him in the bad area while he’s driving his precious car to his craptastic school, his words ring true. My mother deserves to be locked up for doing this to me. “Why, outta all the people on the planet, did she have to fall in love with him?” I ask, more to myself than to Caleb.

“Trust me, I haven’t got an answer to that question either. I think Erin is great. But this isn’t exactly helping my own situation. I get my balls busted every day for my uncle and his damn surprise quizzes in chem. Now, I have to deal with a Bulldog and her mother living with us. And not just some random Bulldog either. No, it had to be the famous Skylar Fletcher.” He shakes his head.

“Well, Brian should’ve stuck to his pop quizzes instead of scouting my softball game. No, I take that back. He shouldn’t have tried to play hero of the day and caught my klutzy mother mid-trip.”

Caleb glares at me. “Don’t blame my uncle for this! Your mother should at least know how to walk without falling. Dude, she’s had what? Over thirty-five years to practice?”

Okay, I admit he has a point. My mother can’t walk and talk at the same time to save her life, and yet, she attempted to do just that going down a set of bleachers at my softball game. If she had some balance and, I don’t know, a sense of direction, we might not be in this mess. At the same time if Brian would’ve let her fall like any other Bobcat fan would’ve done, we wouldn’t be in this mess either. They’re both guilty of ruining our lives.

“No arguments?” he says in an overly satisfied voice.

I sink lower in my seat and sigh. We’re in the parking lot of Delmont High. My insides knot with queasiness. This is it. If I enter, it’s like I’m accepting to no longer be a Bulldog. I can’t.

I stare at the well-spread-out campus.

“Give me your schedule.”

I glance over at Caleb and give him a “What the hell are you talking about?” look. He shakes his head and points at the yellow paper by my feet.

“Give me.” I snatch it and toss it on his lap. “Thanks.”

Chapter 4

Caleb

We sit in the car for at least fifteen minutes before my irritation returns and I decide to pull her out of my car. At first, she kicks, screams, and pounds her fists against every area of my back. This has no effect on me. She seems to figure this out and decides to try a new technique. She somehow monkeys herself over to my side and clamps her teeth into my skin.

“Motherfucker!” I drop her instantly on her ass and clutch my side as pain shoots in every direction. “What the hell is wrong with you?”