Secret Girlfriend (15 page)

Luke Parker was not going to become my personal binky, the
thing I reached for every time something went wrong. Easing away, I gave Thomas
another—hopefully—reassuring smile.

The air had changed, bringing in that cool, dampness before
a storm. The end of the summer always brought heavy feelings along with it for
me. It was the saddest time in our house. It was the time we were losing my
mom. People always think that grief doesn’t happen until the person has died,
but that time… that losing time. It’s a heart-pain all its own. But, beyond
that, the weather always made me feel heavy like the air.

As we carried the last of the dinner in, Rachel glanced
around for Jared. Mr. and Mrs. Parker sat at the kitchen table finishing their
coffee while the guys rinsed dishes and put food away.

“We have to get going,” Rachel told him, making her way
around the counter to look up at him from underneath her lashes. “I promised my
sister I’d help her pick out her first-day-of-school outfit.
And
a back-up.
And a back-up for the back-up.
It
could take awhile.”

While she said her who-knows-how-long-this-will-take
goodbyes, I stopped in front of Mr. and Mrs. Parker to thank them for having
us. I tried not to interrupt, but they were too involved in their own
conversation. Clearing my throat, I jumped in, “Thank you for dinner, Mrs.
Parker.”

She looked up, a startled expression on her face.
“Oh, Amy.
I’m so glad you and Rachel joined us tonight. It
was—” She broke off, a pink flush tinting her cheeks. “It was just plain nice.”

If she had added “gosh darn it”, I wouldn’t have been
surprised. But she just offered her warm, welcoming smile as she rose and
pulled me into a hug.

“Boys,” Mr. Parker called into the chaos. “Walk the ladies
to their car.”

Justin tossed the dishtowel down and glanced my way, his lip
twitching as he fought to hide his grin. It was nice to see Luke scowling at
someone else for a change. I’m pretty sure the smirk Justin gave him didn’t
help. Reaching across the dishwasher, Luke gave him a little shove. Justin laughed
as he fell back against the counter, letting Luke pass him by.

Traitor.

Luke stomped over to me and begrudgingly waved me on ahead
of Jared and Rachel. At the front door, he paused, his hand on the screen’s handle
before shaking his head and pushing it open.

I stepped past him into the misty rain and stopped. His hand
reached out, grasping my shoulder, before he collided with me.

“I don’t need you to walk me out.” I held my hand up,
collecting little droplets as Jared and Rachel squeezed by. “No reason for both
of us to get wet.”

Before he could argue, I sprinted for the car, avoiding
Rachel and Jared’s goodbye session. Once in the Honda, I straightened the
skirt, rolling and unrolling the edge of the hem as I waited for the happy
couple to finish their desperate goodbyes. I mean, it would be ten whole
minutes till she could call him from home.

A soft tap came at my window. “Hey.”

I rolled it down to face Luke. “I was wondering if we could
maybe talk or something. Like, tomorrow.
After the scrimmage
maybe?”

I wasn’t sure what we had to talk about. Actually, I wasn’t
sure what he wanted to talk about, but I wasn’t sure of a lot of things lately.

“Sure. I guess we could do that.”

I was already making a list of things in my head I wanted
him to say. How Katie really was nuts and he had been honest with her. How he
was glad they’d moved to Ridge View so we’d met. How he thinks he might have
feelings for me and could we hang out and see what was going on between us.

But, especially that there was no
competition between him and Chris except on the soccer field.

He jogged back to the house, being as careful as I was to
not let his eyes get burned out by accidentally glancing to where Rachel and
Jared said good-bye.

Jared crossed in front of the car as Rachel slid behind the
wheel, a silly grin on her face.

“Ok, talk,” I said. “Are you… serious about this one?”

“Me?” Rachel threw me a look as she pivoted to back out of
the driveway. “You’re the one with a fake boyfriend and Mr. Manners chasing
after you. If anyone has something worth talking about, it’s you.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.” I even stuck my
nose in the air as I said this.

Rachel laughed, light and airy.
I
wondered what was glowing more, the dashboard or the happiness rolling off her.
“You can’t put me off with that horrible Gwyneth
Paltrow
fake stuffy British accent. You’re going to have to tell me eventually.”

I watched the house drift away as she edged the car onto the
street and headed homeward. “I don’t have anything to say.”

That was, unfortunately, the truth. I had nothing to say. I
didn’t even have anything
not
to say.

What did I have? No guys.
The top guy.
Two guys.
No guys again. And now back to two guys. Two
guys who wanted to get together to talk.
On Monday.
After the blue versus green team scrimmage.

Crud.
This must be why those
popular girls all have date books—to avoid double booking non-dates.

Someone really should teach a class on the management of
boys.

Chapter
22

The light, constant patter of raindrops woke me early Monday
morning. More rain.
More wet
, dark, miserable rain. I
was getting sick of it. The clouds were so
thick,
they
robbed the morning of its morning-
ness
.

Sliding out of bed, I stretched, reveling in the first free
day in a week. No tryouts. No guys calling or showing up. Not even Rachel
stopping by.
Just me.
Alone.
By myself.
Trying to figure out what the heck I was going to
do.

Suddenly, a free morning didn’t sound so great.

I needed to figure out what I wanted my status with Chris to
be—if there was even a status to consider. Then I needed to talk to Luke and
figure out… I have no idea.

That was part of the problem.
Two guys, no
status, lots of confusion.
My head hurt and my heart kept doing weird
speed-up-then-stop things.

Mrs. Parker had been right last night. I needed to be clear
about what I wanted. So, I sat down and wrote a pro/con list for each guy.

CHRIS PROs

•
 
He’s been my dream guy since I was old enough to
have a dream guy

•
 
He’s trying to change

•
 
His kisses

•
 
He’s hot

CHRIS CONs

•
 
He’s either using me or Cheryl or both

•
 
He supposedly broke up with her, but they hung
out Sunday

•
 
Which means that those kisses are going to her
too

LUKE PROs

•
 
I love being around his family

•
 
He gets me and my painting

•
 
Yeah, also hot

•
 
He can see me

LUKE CONs

•
 
He’s pushy

•
 
He’s stubborn

•
 
He can see me

Well, that didn’t do any good. I knew one thing and one
thing only. I had told Chris I was his girlfriend, even if it was a secret, and
I wouldn’t betray my promise until I’d either confronted him and cleared things
up, or ended it. That meant talking to him tonight before I tried to figure
things out with Luke.

The drizzle stopped and I knew the scrimmage would be on.

Tonight.
Tonight everything would
be decided. I’d talk to both guys and trust my heart to tell me who was The
One.

# # #

Monday night almost the entire school was at the field. It
was the unofficial start to soccer season, our version of the Oscars. Everyone was
there to see who would walk away with the varsity spots—who would be the It
Guys of the school year.

Even the incoming freshmen came, like some type of rite of
passage.

Cheryl led the varsity cheer squad off the field, waving her
little pom-poms in Half-Time victory. I realized all that gymnastics stuff was
impressive, but I refused to believe it meant she had a brain too.

Coach handed me his numbers for the blue team. I just needed
the numbers from the green guys. I couldn’t wait till we had a real game and I
only had to track one team.

Principal Edwards took the spare microphone from the edge of
the stats table. The crowd ignored him while he strode toward center field
until the
mic’s
cord yanked him back.

“Good evening, students.” As usual, he addressed us as
though we were some elite, private boys’ school with his salute and snooty fake
accent. “Welcome back for another great year and another great season at Ridge
View High. As always, it is my sincere pleasure to see each and—”

“Hi there.”
Rachel was one of those
girls who could get away with chirping. She handed me a Diet Coke. “Sorry I’m
late coming back.
Anything exciting happen down here while
Jared was spoiling me and bribing you with soda?”

“Not a thing.” I turned toward her, ignoring Principal
Edwards droning on behind me. “I was hoping the squad would drop Cheryl after
that toss-her-in-the-air thing, but no such luck. Her hair didn’t even come out
of her—”

“What!” It was none other than Captain Cheryl herself,
gasping on the sidelines.

Principal Edwards paused for a moment before continuing, or
reiterating, or something I’m unsure of since I hadn’t been paying attention.

“As I was saying, due to budget constraints the school needs
to find more funding for the
Fall
sports and clubs.
And so, to make the Homecoming Court more in tune with true school spirit, the
School Board has decided that the person—or captain of persons—who raises the
most at the Half-Time Auction at the Homecoming game will be crowned King or
Queen. They’ll have the opportunity to offer the other crown as they see fit.
This alleviates the social pressures and unfortunate standards set by a blind
vote of peers.”

Oh. My. Gosh.

He had to be kidding.

I glanced toward the cheerleaders, watching Cheryl taking in
the news. She turned and looked up the slope to the school where the teams
waited to take the field again.
Where Chris waited.

Everything he’d worked for, the entire Plan, down the tubes
because of an economic crisis the adults had gotten us into.

And then I got mad. Everything that had happened over the
last three weeks came down to nothing.
Down to less than
nothing.
There was no need for the secrets and the double life. There
was no need for Cheryl. There was no need for Chris to “date” her to become
Homecoming king. Everything that went with that—The Plan, the double life, the
rivalry with Luke, everything—none of it mattered now. Now, all you had to do
to become Homecoming King was earn the most money? What did that mean?

It meant The Plan—and the public image girlfriend that went
with it—was a thing of the past. Now, Chris had no excuse to be with Cheryl…
and I had no excuse not to figure out what I wanted. For the first time, there
was no “big picture” to consider.

It meant next time I saw
Luke,
I’d
have to be single or taken—but not relationally in limbo. And, as I watched him
sprint down the sideline getting open for a pass, I suddenly knew where I
stood.

# # #

Behind me the crowd worked itself into a roar. Split by
color, students and parents cheered for their jersey team as though it were the
state finals instead of just the last round of tryouts-scrimmage. At my side,
Rachel checked out the guys, scanned the crowd, and text messaged Jared who sat
all of two rows behind our table. Basically everything someone can do at a game
besides watch the game.

As the clock ticked down to nothing—high school regulation
time—Chris and Luke managed to work together to force the ball into the other
team’s box. Luke circled out past their midfielders with the ball, only to be
cornered by two defenders. I held the timer in my hand, hoping for the best,
but knowing I’d call time the second it struck zero. Before my finger could hit
the button, Luke passed the ball off to Chris.

No one expected that. Well, no one but me. I’d known when it
came down to
it,
he’d do what was best for the team no
matter who earned the final glory.

The unexpected pass took the Green Team off guard and gave
Chris an open shot.

The ball hit the back of the net as I blew the air horn and
ended the game.

A bunch of Blue Shirts tackled Chris to the ground. Some of
the guys scooped Luke up in the standard Chariots of Fire Victory lift and the
team brought them both to midfield where Coach ran out to congratulate them.
The ref jogged down the field, bringing the winning ball with him.

It was glorious. One of those moments you think can’t get
better, that you want to hold onto forever in the scrapbook of your mind.

The ref tossed the ball toward Chris—winning scorer earning the
winning ball. Chris trapped it and then kicked it back into the air, sending
everyone’s gaze racing with it as it soared toward the crowd and gently landed
in the invisible girl’s hands—as it landed in
my
hands.

Luke’s head swung toward me as I tried to wipe the silly
grin off my face. Even with Luke’s scowl focused in my direction, a glow spread
through me. I forced myself to not peek at Cheryl in my moment of glory.
To enjoy it all because it was only going to come once.
To try to ignore the fact that the entire school was looking at me.
I wasn’t stupid enough to let Chris’s last ditch effort do more than give me a
warm-
glowy
. It didn’t fix things with Chris or mean I
gave him my trust.

But it also didn’t mean that for that one second, my stupid
heart didn’t flip over.
Twice.

Crushing was a bad habit. Going cold turkey was practically
impossible. There should be interventions.

But, this wanting Chris thing was a habit…
one I knew for sure I wanted to break.
If I was honest, I’d known that
for awhile but had been afraid to let go. Afraid of what came next.

Luke Parker. My heart actually stopped as my gaze swung
toward him.
And not in the same idealized six-year-habit way,
but in a new, scarier-than-anything-else-high-school-has-thrown-my-way way.

His face changed, contorted with a rage I didn’t think he
had in him.

Lowering his head he plowed into Chris, taking him to the
ground with a fierceness that surprised even the other boys.

How could he? How could he embarrass his team and me like
that?

It was a testament to Luke that the teams split immediately.
I would have guessed with his new-guy status, the majority would have rushed to
Chris’s aid. To have Chris’s back. That probably would have been for the best.
Everything would have ended before it started. Unfortunately, loyalty seemed to
be equally divided and the melee that followed was a sight to behold.

Never in RVHS history had a riot like this broken out—even
against a rival school. The team colors merged and faded into indiscernible
patterns. No one color jersey defining loyalty at that moment. The crowd was
too confused to jump in as the energy swept over them and pulsed with a life of
its own.

Coach and the refs finally got the situation under control
and sent guys off in different directions. The adults seemed afraid to send the
team up to the locker room lest the chaos continue there. The teachers and
security guards started directing everyone toward the gates and out into the
parking lot.

The fear of another, bigger riot must have been overwhelming
because when the cops showed up they forced all the students into their cars
and off school grounds.

“You ladies need to leave.” The cop behind us couldn’t have
been more than twenty.

“I’m with the team,” I answered, afraid to look away from
the two groups separated by Coach and his cohorts.

He shifted his hands on his gun belt, hitching it up on one
side in a sad Clint Eastwood impersonation. “Sweetheart, everyone thinks
they’re with the team. Doesn’t mean I’m
gonna
let
them all stay here throwing punches.”

Rachel batted her hot chocolate browns. “Officer, do we look
like the mass chaos type?”

He glanced from me to Rachel, Rachel making the much better
showing in her A&B top and denim miniskirt.

“No, miss. But I can’t leave anyone down here that isn’t a
team member.”

She slipped her hand through his arm as though he’d offered
to lead her onto a dance floor in a BBC costume saga.

“I wouldn’t mind being escorted to my car.” She actually
fluttered her eyelashes. “I mean, with all this craziness, a girl shouldn’t be
walking alone up there without some protection, don’t you think?”

I could see her pull, her magnetic vortex sucking him in and
weakening his resolve. Jared was not going to be happy if he was waiting in the
parking lot.

So
not my problem.

“If I promise to wait in the car until Coach
Sarche
is done with Amy—to be on my very best behavior and
stay out of the way—can we call that good?”

More
eyelash
fluttering.

I saw him glance at me, undecided about leaving me behind.

“Um, Coach?” I called to where he paced among the guys
settled into small groups on the ground.

“Whalen?
Are you causing more
trouble?” he bellowed back.

Great.
Just
great.
Of course this would
somehow become my fault.

“No, sir.
But this officer wants me
to leave.”
Which suddenly seemed like the best idea under the
big night game lights.
“Is that okay?”

“Hell no it isn’t okay. You sit your skinny little ass down,
Whalen. I’m not done with you.”

I glanced at the officer as Coach turned back toward the
team, his bellowing momentarily redirected.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider arresting me?”

The officer looked toward Coach and his battered Ravens.

“Not a chance. I played for Coach three years ago. No way
I’d
cross him." He looked down at Rachel. “Still want
to be walked to your car?”

“More than ever,” she said, and pulled him away.

“Cowards,” I called after them, sitting my butt back down
and waiting for Coach’s bellowing to deafen me.