Secret Girlfriend (3 page)

Of course, the
only
upside to no Rachel was how she felt about Chris… She hated him with the heat
of a thousand suns.

About two miles into the four to my house, the saying “it
isn’t the heat, it’s the humidity” proved to be a big fat lie. It was the heat
and
the humidity. Knowing everyone was
most likely headed the opposite direction for
lunch,
I
stripped to my sports tank and tucked my T-shirt through the back.

No sooner had I started up again, than an old, red Chevy
pickup slowed beside me. When I say old, I mean my-grandfather-learned-to-drive-on-something-like-it
old.

“Need a ride?”

I was running a comfortable sub-seven mile. Did I really
look like I needed a ride?

I peeked over without breaking stride. “No thanks.”

“Because, you know, I’m heading this way.”

Luke Parker was apparently a talker.

“Still nope.
Thanks though.”

The truck continued by my side. The rev of the engine rolled
through my mind, sweeping over the steady beat of my sneakers and the in-out of
my breathing.

I glanced to where he still puttered along beside me.

“Really.”
I let my annoyance tint
my voice. If I had to keep talking to him, I’d need to drop my pace.

He eyed the road and turned back to me. Before he could meet
my gaze again, I sped up enough to be out of line with his window. Note to
self: Trucks gain speed more easily than humans.

When he pulled parallel, I felt his gaze take me in all the
way down to my running shoes. Despite the heat and not because of my sweat, a
shiver rushed through me. Guys never looked at me, and to be so thoroughly
assessed made me uncomfortable in a
parents-talking-about-sex-at-the-dinner-table kind of way. Not that I’d know
anything about that, but the assumptions of the teenage mind
are
a brilliant thing
.

I halted, kicking my leg back and grabbing my ankle in a
quad stretch.

The Chevy stopped and the driver’s door slammed open.

He jumped down and raised his arms in a half shrug. “What?”

I paced past the truck bed. “Do you mind? You’re throwing my
stride off and I have a time going here.”

Before he could answer, I shot past him.

Alone was all I wanted and pushy-invisibility-seeing guy was
not welcome in my sphere. It’s like Rachel always said: Never trust a guy who
claims to want nothing from you.
Trust me
equals
I’m a big fat liar-liar.
Pants and everything.

Plus, I had enough guy issues between my dad ignoring me and
Chris blowing me off that I didn’t need another guy trying to call the shots in
my life. He’d have to find his working-to-get-his-spot-on-the-team friend
somewhere else. I wasn’t his time-filler—especially since the spot he was
working to take was Chris’s.

A girl’s
gotta
have her loyalties.

As I cleared the end of the road, I turned onto the old
trail that cut through the conservation wetlands knowing no truck, no matter
how old, was going to follow there. Behind me, I heard the pickup slow before
it over-revved and drove away.

Chapter 3

“You’ve reached the middle of nowhere. Leave a message after
the beep.”

BEEP.

“Hey, Rachel.
It’s me. Haven’t
talked to you in
days
and I’m hoping
your day off is coming up. Only another week
of being
a camp counselor and then you come home.
Yay
for me!
Things are a little crazy right now. I really wish you were here. Everything
with Chris is weird and… and… crazy. Yeah, babbling. Sorry. Stay safe. See
ya
soon.”

I am a horrible friend. I am a super-amazing-life-
alteringly
horrible best friend for being annoyed she was
where she needed to be instead of with me. If I weren’t, I’d totally get that
this summer working at the wilderness camp was the best thing Rachel could do
for her college apps.

I did get that.
Really.
But I’d
never been in this situation before… in this
boy
situation. Even if Rachel couldn’t stand Chris—or Ego Boy, as
she called him—and didn’t get my six-year-invisible-loyalty thing, I could have
used her advice. Rachel was a pro at handling social things. She could blow off
drama like a starlet breezing past the paparazzi.

I was even jealous of Rachel’s tightness with her mom and
how she could discuss anything with her.

One week. I only needed to last one more week on my own and
she could return to being my life-organizing whirlwind of a best friend.

# # #

The phone rang at 1:09 am, the light from its screen
lighting up my bedside table.

Took her long enough.

“Where have you been? I called you three times this week.” I
know, a little pushy, but I was tired—it
was
the middle of the night—and anxious since I hadn’t heard from her.

“Babe, you saw me today at practice.”

I practically fell out of bed as I shot up and pulled my
phone away to check the caller ID.

“Chris. Sorry. I thought you were Rachel.”

He kind of chuckled on the other end. Any time I brought up
Rachel he evaded. I think that heat-of-a-thousand-suns thing was a little
obvious.

“I just wanted to call to say good night and tell you how
much tonight sucked.” He breathed out, the quiet behind him letting me know he
was finally alone. “I could have used the downtime with you.”

“Oh.” I grinned to myself. Good. Let it be not-easy being
with her. Let her be a pain in the butt.

“So, I was just calling to say good night.”

I wasn’t really sure what the right answer was. Was I
supposed to tell him how much I’d missed him tonight or just say good night
back? When I opened my mouth, my polite gene took over.

“Thanks.”

Chris chuckled again. I wish he did that more often. “You’re
welcome.”

Before I could say anything else, the line went dead. I held
the phone a second longer until the screen light flicked off and rolled over to
try to fall back asleep.

Try
being the operative
word.

Chapter 4

Second session tryouts were not my friend. It had already
been a long day and the bike ride back to school was grueling in the early
evening heat. I locked up my bike and headed into the building, breathing in
the cool air of the darkened hallway. My keys landed with a heavy thud at the
bottom of my official stats girl locker. I could hardly wait to get to the
restroom to wash and put on a clean tank top. Basically,
girlify
myself in my standard fashion.

 
“Babe.”

I tried not to spin around, but as the boy who went with
that voice leaned past my locker door, my heart sped faster than when I’d hit
the third hill on the way there.

“Hi, Chris.”

He bent down to pick up my backpack and surveyed both ends
of the hall. With a grin, he leaned in and brushed my hair behind my ear. His
warm hand cupped my cheek and I thought,
Kiss
me. Kiss me,
already!

“Did you see that attack I made this morning? I was really
on my game.”

What was I supposed to say? It was true. It was always true.

“Coach kept a couple seniors after practice to let us know
he’d be watching this evening to name the tryout captains.” He braced his arm
against the locker and peered down at me. I dropped my head to hide how big my
smile grew at the whole thing—the whole Chris-is-so-close-I-can-smell-the-soap-he-used
thing.

“Well, of course he’ll name you. You’ve been on the varsity
team since freshman year. You’re the best. The guys already consider you their
leader.”

His smile widened. “Did he say anything to you about it?”

I shook my head. I did that a lot around Chris. It was
easier than trying to make sense and gave me a second to pull my thoughts off
his general hotness. “I didn’t even know you guys did tryout captains.”

That blinding smile came back and I felt like I’d won some
type of lottery. I wasn’t even sure what type, just something really good.

“Let me know if he does, alright, babe?”

I nodded, grinning at him again. Man, I needed to get Botox
in my lip muscles to stop the stupid expressions that popped up around him.

“You know, this is easier.” He cocked his head to the side,
looking at me like he hadn’t seen me before.
Like I was new,
brand new.
“You being here.
Knowing
you’ve
got my back. Just having you here makes me feel… I
don’t know… calmer.”

I grinned again, or maybe just bigger. He made me feel
anything but calm.

“What is it about you?” His voice had dropped and he looked,
if not serious, more serious than I’d seen.

The doors behind Chris opened and he peered over his
shoulder at new-kid-Luke coming in. The Look evaporated and he stepped away,
distancing himself in more ways than one.

“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

More nodding on my part.
“Okay.
Talk to you later.” Parroting was almost as bad as nodding. Doing both had to
look twice as inane.

I leaned against the cool metal lockers to watch him walk
away, bag slung over his shoulder, hitching up his T-shirt to show the tan line
around the top edge of his shorts.

“Hey.”

For a new kid, this guy was everywhere.

“Hey.” I settled my backpack over my shoulder and started
down the hall.

He fell in step with me and motioned toward Chris, as
present as ever a few yards ahead of us.

“You know that guy?”
And nosy.

“I know him."

“How?”

“How do I know him?” I stopped and gave Luke Parker my full
attention. “He’s Chris Kent. Everyone knows him. You even know him and you’ve
been around for like, what, eight minutes?”

He leaned down enough that our eyes met and I wondered where
all that intensity came from and what it was going to get him on the field. “I
was wondering, because, you know, he looked awfully comfortable with you just
now.”

It wasn’t any of his business and, since no answer I gave
was going to make sense, I shrugged. Hopefully my bangs gave me some coverage
when I rolled my eyes as he shortened his stride to walk with me again.

“After seeing you run, I’m surprised you’re a bench-jockey.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but stats girl is a
very popular job and I don’t need to be on a team to run.”

He snorted. Didn’t he realize that was my line? “Yeah, I can
see your skills are really stretched here.”

“Trust me.
Cross-country?
Not such
a loss.” And why was I defending myself to him?

Ahead, the door to the boys’ locker room
fell
shut behind Chris. A few more steps and we reached the girls’ room. I paused
and looked up at him.

“Well, this is my stop.” I tried to smile, but it must have
looked pained—since it was.

He nodded, but stayed where he was. Maybe he wasn’t very bright.
That would explain a lot. Plus they say children and the childlike can see
objects others can’t. That would make sense with the invisibility thing and
all.

I slipped past the door and, pushing it closed behind me
with a sigh, refocused on the important thing. Chris.

He said he’d talk to me later. Did that mean at practice?
After practice?
Would we get something to eat, or maybe he’d
just drive me home? If he got stuck here with Coach again, maybe he’d call me.

Plus, we’d had
A
Moment.

Even I, socially awkward though I was, had noticed and known
it for what it was. I could only wonder if he had.

Doing a quick recap of the summer, I couldn’t remember a
time he’d called me.
We mostly just texted.
That was
easier anyway since tracking him down would have been really hard with how much
he had going on. If he wasn’t home, he’d be out with people and we wouldn’t be
able to talk even if I did reach him.

He was right. It was totally worth being stats girl to get
to see him every day at practice. I’d probably get to ride on the bus with him
to games, too. That would rock—
understatement
.

Giggles traveled down the hall and past the door. Thank
goodness there was a girls’ room as well as their locker room. I don’t know how
I’d deal with all the cheerleaders. I mean, if hairspray can destroy the ozone
layer, what the heck did they think it was doing to their lungs?
Or their brains?
That explained a lot though. Not that
they’d notice me, anyway. I seemed to be even more invisible to cute girls than
cute guys.

Checking my watch, I headed to the field knowing I’d beat
Coach
Sarche
, but wanting to be early after the
take-this-seriously talk he’d given me last night. I set up my attendance
sheets and dropped onto the grass to stretch my legs. Getting up the three
hills to the school a second time had made a harder workout day than I
expected.

“Hey.”

Alright, not only was he everywhere, but he also only knew
one way to start a conversation.

“Hey,” I answered as my gaze slid past Luke Parker to where
Chris came up behind him.

“Parker, you always early?”
Chris
asked.

“I like to get the lay of the land. See how things are.”
Luke’s words answered the question, but his eyes turned back toward me.
“And how they aren’t.”

Chris stepped to my other side, forcing me to look up at them
both. “Yeah, well, things aren’t always how they seem. Like, walking on for a
tryout doesn’t give you the spot you’re counting on.
On the
field or in the school.”

Oh! Was he threatening the new kid over me? I mean, more
than just literally standing over me–over me?

“I hear the spots go to the best player. And the school
sounds like it pretty much does the same thing.” That lopsided grin hitched up
on the right. “Are you warning me off? A little worried you aren’t the best?”

“I’m not worried. I know who
Coach’ll
make captain.” Chris reached past me to pat Luke on the shoulder. “I get the
whole “make a name for
yourself
” thing. But make your
own name. You can’t have mine.”

Chris’s pat turned into a light shove before he pivoted and
strode away.

Luke’s gaze dropped to me and it seemed for once he had
nothing to say. He just stood there looking like there were words he didn’t
know but if he thought hard enough he could figure them out.

And that’s when I began to panic. If he really saw things
other people couldn’t, maybe he knew I was Chris’s secret girlfriend. He could
use this for some evil-new-kid-plan and ruin everything.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking—why you look so serious,”
I said. “But I do know you need to stay out of his way and out of my business.”

For the first time that day, when I stood and walked away,
he let me go.

# # #

The first raindrop hit as the sun slid behind the tree line.
By the time we reached the covered walkway to the gym, it was coming down as
only a hot August rain could, the drops hitting the ground and evaporating with
a hiss. Inside, the guys headed toward the locker room, pulling wet shirts over
their heads as they went.

Rachel totally would have loved that… a slow, rain-drenched
striptease would be how she’d see it. Me? All I saw was a bunch of dirty,
tired, wet guys. Go figure.

I’d hoped it was a flash storm and would end by the time I
stowed the team binders. But, of course, it didn’t. I unlocked my bike at the railing
and pulled my hat low over my eyes to block as much of the rain as possible. I
pushed the bike off the curb and the downpour hit me in a heavy dousing as I
tightened my pack straps.

A large hand reached past me, securing the bike by the
handlebars. “Let me take that.”

Every time I thought the day couldn’t get worse, there he
was.

“I’m fine thanks.”

Luke cocked an eyebrow and glanced from under the walkway
cover at the deluge I stood in.

“It isn’t that far,” I said.

“If it’s the same direction you were running this morning, I
live over there too. We can throw this in the truck.” He pulled the bike from
my grasp.

“Really,” I said, trying to wrest it back. “I don’t mind.”

“Are you always this stubborn?”

“I’m not stubborn. I just have no interest in getting in a
car with some guy I don’t know.”

“You know me. I’m the guy who’s always early.” Luke pulled
the bike and grabbed my arm to drag me under the canopy. “It won’t kill you to
let someone do something nice for you. We toss this in the truck. I drive you
home. You don’t die of pneumonia.”

“What’s going on here?”

I fought the little smirk creasing my lips as Chris’s voice
sounded from behind me. Finally my day was heading in the right direction.

“He was just—” I stopped dead at the sight of Chris, his arm
slung over Cheryl’s shoulder, watching Luke and I tug the bike back and forth.
They looked far too cozy. They looked comfortable. They looked together.

“I was just giving her a ride home.” Luke pulled the bike
from my numb fingers. “I have a truck we can throw this in.”

Didn’t he say that already? And what was that buzzing in my
ears?

Luke watched me with that wordless gaze again. “With the
rain and all,” he said after a long, quiet moment.

Why was everyone looking at me? I glanced at Cheryl, her
eyes taking in my soaked T-shirt and battered Red Sox cap. Even after running
captain’s tryouts for a couple hours she looked like every teen flick’s
stereotype of a cheer captain. I wondered if their coach took that into
consideration when choosing her.

“We can drive her.” Chris stepped toward us, forcing Cheryl
along with him.

Thank goodness Chris was finally taking charge.

“How’s she going to get her bike home, then?”

“You can take that for her, Parker.” Chris smirked at him.
Chris liked to win.
A lot.

“If I’m taking the bike, I might as well take the girl,
too.”

Uh-oh.

“Chris.” I had to give Cheryl credit for trying to keep the
whine out of her voice. “If you let Parker drive,” she waved a manicured hand
in my general direction, “her home, we can go straight to China Dynasty.”

I felt my head swivel toward Chris. He had said he’d talk to
me later and now he was taking her out to eat?

“That makes sense,” Luke jumped into their conversation.
“You guys go to your little dinner date thing. I’ll take Stats Girl home.”

Dear God, did no one know my name?

Cheryl squeezed Chris’s arm. I could see him calculating the
cost of not making it to dinner at the right time with the right girl versus
winning this fight with the guy trying to take his spot.

Hopefully, spending time with me was on that scale
somewhere. Or, maybe it wasn’t. The whole tryout thing was having me second
guess the motives of just about everyone involved in The Plan.

Okay, maybe not my own motives. I glanced at Chris hoping
his
right answer
and my
right answer
were
matchy-matchy
.

“Alright.
As long as she gets home,
right?” Chris gave me a quick wink and turned to lead Cheryl out into the rain.

So, no
matchy-matchy
.
I glanced between the pseudo-couple and reminded myself I’d signed up for this.
Reminded myself that the rules of the game were clear.
Reminded myself not to shove Cheryl into the puddle at the
end of the walk even if she was looking to get more out of this fake-date-thing
than I’d expected.
Her
Ashburk
Tech boyfriend
was an intangible, but Chris? Chris was the hottest guy in school. Chris was
arm candy. And Cheryl wasn’t stupid.