Secret Girlfriend (19 page)

Chapter
28

But I didn’t… figure it out that is. Two weeks later and I
was still desperately trying to get Luke’s attention. But, every day he managed
to not see me in the hall.
And in class.
And in the parking lot.
And at practice.

I have no idea how he managed not to see me at practice
every single day.

“Whalen!”
Coach’s shouting drew my
attention away from Luke sprinting to fall back after a goal.

I checked the binders, checked the water,
checked
that no one was dead. I had no idea why Coach was shouting at me as practice
drew to a close.

“Why the hell are you still here?”

I glanced over to where the team did
very
uncomplicated post-practice stretches. It looked a lot like lying down to die
actually.

“Um, because practice isn’t over?”
I hated stating the obvious, especially with Coach. It always felt like a
trick.

“Not here at practice, smartass.
Here.
Here on the boys’ soccer team.”

Would it be lame to admit because it was a chance to be near
Luke?

“Shouldn’t you be running through the woods with the wind
whipping through your hair or something?”

Um, wow. Coach just turned me
into a
feminine products
commercial.

“I usually run in the morning before school until it gets
cold.” I’m not sure why that mattered.

“Whalen—Amy—you have, by far, been the best stats girl this
team has ever had. Well, besides the fact that you were the catalyst to a
riot.” He raised a hand before I could defend myself. “I’m not blaming you for
those two being boneheads. But, why are you not getting your act together and
getting back on the cross-country team?”

Oh. He wanted me gone.

I looked down at my hands, afraid to see him fire me. But, if
there was one thing I’d learned this month, it was to face things head on.

“You want me to leave?”

“Damn it, Whalen. Did you not just hear me say you were the
best stats girl? But I’ve seen you run and you should be doing that.”

Oh. He didn’t want me gone?

“Coach, are you firing me?” See, there’s that new Amy
Super-Girl straight on thing again.

He ran his hands through his hair, giving it the standard
Coach-is-frustrated tug. “No, Whalen. I’m asking you if this is where you’re
supposed to be.”

I glanced around, taking in the field and the soccer team.
The coaches mulling about.
The girls
casually hanging out off to the side.
Parents gathered at the gate by
the parking lot. Some guy with a briefcase headed our way. In the distance, the
cross-country team stretched out too and I realized something.

Not only was this where I wanted to be, but it’s where I
fit.

Running was for me. Just for me. Yeah, I loved winning. But,
like I’d told Mrs. Parker, I could compete anywhere.

I’d found my place there on the boys’ soccer team. Who would
have thought it?

“Coach, I’m where I’m supposed to be.” I nodded, feeling the
smile spread. “I can compete on weekends or something if I get the bug.”

I swear the man rolled his eyes at me.

“I knew you were going to say that.” He waved the man with
the briefcase over. “Whalen, this is Coach Melrose.”

I had no idea where this was going, but a very strong
suspicion I was about to get blindsided shot through me.

“Coach
Sarche
tells me you beat
his entire team.” This guy really seemed to love the whole idea of that. He
offered me his hand and a grin.

“Yes, sir.
Luke Parker dropped out
to save his legs for tryouts.” I glanced at Coach before letting myself grin.
“But I would have beaten him.”

Both men looked at me for a long moment and then laughed. It
was nice to know they were laughing for the right reasons.

“Coach Melrose and I go all the way back to college. He
coaches the women’s cross-country team at Monroe State.” Coach smacked his
ever-present clipboard against his thigh. “You’ll be running with his team
every Saturday morning. You will follow whatever fitness and training schedule
he gives you during the week. You will show up at whatever event he tells you
to. You will kick the ass of any competitor he puts in front of you. If you
slack, you’re fired. I’ll get one of those flaky wannabe cheer girls to take
your place quicker than you can say World Cup.”

I glanced from one coach to the other. Seriously, when had
my life gotten so filled with amazing men? After a moment, and obviously
without a shred of thought, I threw my arms around Coach
Sarche
.

“Thanks, Coach. I swear I will
not
let you down.”

I felt him very awkwardly pat me on the back.
“Alright, Whalen.
That’s enough. Get your ass in gear. I
want to hear about a scholarship by the end of the season.”

I eased back and tried not to laugh at the blush crossing
Coach’s cheeks.

“Any more hugging goes to your running coach,” he said,
giving me a slight shove toward Coach Melrose. “Get to work. No slacking.”

With that, he stalked off leaving me with my new coach.

Coach Melrose took a small step back. “I’m not much of a
hugger either.”

“Honestly,
sir,
neither am I. But
he really needed one.”

Chapter
29

The next day, I kept my confidence going with a leap of
insanity… I
mean,
faith.

“Have you lost your mind?” Rachel’s “whisper” nearly blew
out my eardrum. “This is your worst nightmare come to life and you’re signing
up for it?”

The ink splotch was growing where pen met paper. There were
already three names there. Cheryl’s was the first one.
Of
course.

Before I could think more about it, I signed my name and
wrote “item for sale” next to it. Even then I knew there wasn’t much chance of
beating out a cheerleader half-time kissing booth. But honestly, did she really
think the school board was going to let the Rah-
Rahs
prostitute themselves like that? The only hope I had was if they were shut down
and had to come up with a real talent.

“If you win this, you’ll be on a stage.
In
front of everyone.”
Rachel reached for the pen, probably to cross my
name out.
“In the spotlight—literally.
Literally in the spotlight.
Are you having nightmares yet?”

Yes. Yes, I was. But there was only one way I could think of
to get Luke back: The Grand Gesture. It had been working for guys for
centuries. Hopefully it was no longer gender specific.

If he hadn’t been letting Cheryl shadow him for the last two
weeks—if he had just talked to me, just given me a chance… But he hadn’t and so
I was left with nothing but desperation as motivation.

I was out of options and afraid that I was running out of
time. Cheryl may have only been his way of avoiding me, but eventually some
nice girl was going to cross his path, and then he’d be gone for real.

When Principal Edwards had given the morning announcements
the second day back, he reminded everyone of the new Homecoming Court ballot…
or lack of ballot. The only qualifications were that you had to be a senior and
you had to have raised the most money during the Homecoming Half-Time Auction.

“What if you win?” Rachel stared at the paper with my name
scrawled in shaky, black ink. “What will you do then?”

The lights flashed behind my eyes as I pictured myself
blinded by the spotlight on the risers in the gym. Everyone looked at me and
whispers echoed back while people tried to figure out who the heck I was. But
the only thing that slipped through my mind was that Luke would have to listen
to me for the length of whatever song the cheesy DJ pumped out for us—he’d be
too polite to turn me down in front of the entire school. And then I knew what
I’d do.

“Beg.”

# # #

There comes a time in every person’s life when they face
their biggest fear head on and become the hero of their own story.

This was not that time.

Instead, it was the time I faced my biggest fear and hid in
the girls’ room for the entire Half-Time Auction.

As soon as I’d signaled the end of the first half of the
game, I rushed up to the gym, not sure what I hoped to see. The silent auction
list had grown way longer than I’d expected. But, I’d gotten a little pick-me-up
seeing Cheryl frown enough to crease her makeup when the school committee had
let the squad know they had to rethink their sales plan. The half-time kissing
booth had been banned and they had to go with Rah-Rah plan b: auctioning off a
date with Cheryl to the highest bidder.

Those were the moments I just wanted to find any other girl
on the face of the planet and ask, “Really? Is it only me or is that just as
skanky?”

Adults and students pressed through the doors, some heading
straight to the snack bar, others wandering table to table, reading the
descriptions. My painting was propped on the far side of the room. People
milled about in front of it. My heart dropped. I’d known people would see it
when I’d scribbled my name on that stupid list but I couldn’t believe it was
out there. Not just because I was showing my work for the first time, but
because I couldn’t believe I could give it up.

In my mind, I pictured the details of the beat-up, old
pickup truck’s headlights catching the heavy rain dousing it. Water licked at
its tires. The door had obviously just been thrown open, one Converse covered
foot stepping out into the floodwaters.

The moment before I threw myself into Luke
Parker’s arms.
The moment I wish I could rewind to and start over from. The
moment my heart left my body and rested in his hands for good.

A blue flash of a soccer jersey caught my eye and I shifted
to see which guy had snuck out of the Half-Time “pep talk.” Coach was going to
kill whoever dared to slip his grasp. Part of me realized I should check it
out. Coach would kill me twice if he knew I’d seen one of the guys and not sent
him back to the locker room. The whole I’m-A-Girl thing was the only reason I
didn’t have to be in there as it was.

Before I could make up my mind to track down the AWOL
player, my art teacher Mrs. Cleary headed my way from table thirty-three where
an undersized easel propped up my painting. Of all the people to not want to
disappoint, she topped the list. There was only one thing I could do. I did it well,
so it wasn’t a problem. I ran.
Straight to the girls’ room.

If no one bid on my entry, I’d rather know after the game
than sit at the stats table thinking everyone behind me was looking at the back
of my head with pity.

 
“Amy?”

Sometimes I wondered if Rachel had BFF radar.

“In here.” I kicked one of my feet under the stall door so
she knew which one I hid in.

“We’re alone. You might as well come out.”

I pushed the stall door open and faced her. The girls’ room
was the best place for this conversation since I was still a little queasy
anyway.

“How are you feeling?”

Out of habit I crossed to the sink and washed my hands.

“Not bad.”
Lies.
Lies.
Lies.

 
She nodded as if
both of us ignoring the truth would make it disappear.

“They just announced the five minute warning. Coach is
bringing the guys back down to the field.” She reached in her purse and pulled
out a cherry colored lip gloss. “
Here.
”

That was so Rachel. Every time stress hit her, she put on
lip gloss or changed her shirt or did something with her hair. I knew it
wouldn’t make me feel better, but she was obviously feeding off my anxiety so I
put the funky tasting stuff on and forced a smile.

“Ready?”
 

What was I going to say? With a nod, I handed her back the
gloss and headed toward the door.

The second half of the game flew by. We
won,
no big surprise. And then the afternoon was over. Everyone headed home until
the oh-so-socially-climactic dance that night. All there was left to do was
wait.

I’d never been very good at waiting. I put on my new Nikes
and ran. Forget marathons. I ran like I was training for a 100k Ultra. At the
little bridge, I was careful to turn west out of town.
Away
from the Parker household.
The idea of seeing Luke, of watching him
ignore me again, was more than I could take.

If he was going to blow me off today, it was going to have
to be under the tacky disco ball and in front of the entire school.

Note to self: Google “free sanity test” after run.

Chapter
30

It was time. And this time, there’d be no hiding out in the
girls’ room.

When Rachel picked me up for the Homecoming dance she had
not one, but two Parker boys in her car. Of course, neither of them was the
right one. Justin looked a little apologetic when I slid into the back next to
him. No idea if it was because he wasn’t Luke or because he watched me have to
crawl over the front seat in one of Rachel’s shorter skirts.

In the front, Rachel and Jared discussed… something. I
couldn’t have told you what if my life depended on it. After a minute of trying
to follow their conversation over the music, and my own mental noise, I finally
gave up.

“You ready?” Justin reached over and squeezed my hand.

It had taken losing his brother to see what a great friend I
was gaining in him. No matter what happened with Luke, I knew Justin would be
there. For the first time in my life, I had a guy friend.
A
big—younger—brother.
A boy to look out for me.
And vice versa.

The warmth of him seeped into my hand like a hug and
suddenly, yeah, I was ready.

I nodded, forcing everything from my mind and just waited,
enjoying the ride to the school and the safety of the people who surrounded me.

The parking lot was full of kids getting to the dance and
everyone else showing up to see if they’d won anything at the auction. At this
point, I was just worried no one had bought my painting. It would likely be
Rejection Number One if it was still there.

At the doors, Jared stopped to make time with his future
teammates, signaling for Rachel and Justin to join him. Justin’s hand fell to
my lower back, steering me through the crowd.

“Don’t you want to hang with the guys?”

“Nah.”
He glanced over his shoulder
as we stepped through the crowed. “I’d rather hang with you.”

I stopped and met his gaze, about to tell him I was used to
being alone and that I could handle it, when Luke walked in. That was almost
enough to make my stomach drop, but it was the
not alone
part that did me in. I wasn’t even sure who she was, but
the only thought going through my head was,
at
least she isn’t Cheryl. If he ends up with someone else, at least let her be
nice.

“Ignore him.” Justin gave me a little shove toward the
tables where all the auction items were lined up. As we cleared a group of
freshman, he whispered in my ear, “Plus, I’m not supposed to know this, but he
picked her up for one of the guys. He couldn’t get off work early enough so
Luke volunteered.”

That was so Luke. I started to turn toward them again, just
to see if she really was acting like a random girl.

“If you look at my brother one more time, I’m going to think
I’m not charming enough for you.”

Justin’s hand still rested on my back, pushing me forward,
away from Luke.
Away from social disaster.
I glanced
up at Justin, my heart cracking anew at that familiar Parker grin.

“Sorry.” I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the knots
out. “You know you’re one of my favorite people right? If, after tonight,
you’re the only Parker talking to me, I’ll count that a win.”

I prayed I was telling the truth. Every part of me screamed
that if I left this wannabe dance club in Rachel’s Honda instead of Edith the
Pickup Truck, everything would still be okay. Justin flashed that grin again.
Yeah, it would be okay. It might hurt, but it would be okay.

He peered over the heads of the people in front of us. “What
number are you?”

“
Shhhhh
.”
I covered his mouth with my palm, glancing around to make sure no one heard
him.

Over my hand, his eyebrows went up, one cocking to the
right.

“Can I trust you to not repeat that if I take my hand away?”
I glanced around again hoping now was not the time people started seeing me.

He nodded, wagging my arm up and down with his head.

As soon as I let him go, he took my arm and led me to a
quiet place next to a broken water fountain.

“Amy, when will you realize people are going to notice you?
You’re pretty and you’re part of the most popular group at school. Not to
mention nice and talented.”

I cocked my head enough so I could look up at him in the
close quarters, surprised by every word coming out of his mouth.

“I’m none of those things, and I’m definitely not popular.”
Amazing that guy friends could be as
delusionally
supportive as girlfriends.

“The minute that soccer ball landed in your hands… no, the
second you
joined
the soccer team,
you were one of them. You’re going to have to deal with the fact that people
will notice you. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Part of me knew if I won Luke back I’d have to deal with the
whole popularity thing. There was no way that boy could be anything less than
everything every girl ever wanted.

I nodded, understanding what Justin was telling me. Knowing
he was right, I
could
do this.

“Okay, let’s go see if anyone even wanted a still damp oil
painting of a foolishly brave rescue attempt.”

We walked down the hall, his hand still on my back, him shouldering
away underclassmen not paying enough attention. Near the end of the row, we
found it. Table Thirty-three.
My table.
My heart
stopped when I spotted the empty space where my painting should have sat.

But, table thirty-three was more than empty. It was missing.

Maybe it had gone so badly that they took down anything no
one bid on.

OMG.
I was a bigger failure than…
well, a failure. I was like the
uber
-failure.

“Stop.
If you hyperventilate and
throw up on my shoes or something, nothing is saving this friendship.” Justin
glanced down the hall and jerked his head toward a really efficient looking
girl with a clipboard racing toward us. Her ponytail swung behind her like a
schoolyard swing.

“Excuse me?” I wasn’t sure she’d see me, but she ground to a
halt, clipboard braced in front of her as if it held the answer to life. I
guess, for me, it might have. “What happened to item thirty-three?”

I thought she’d have to reference her notes, but instead she
flashed me a huge smile—the kind where you see her upper
and
lower teeth. “Oh! Thirty-three was picked up early. Someone
wanted to get that one home right away.”

“Wow,” I glanced at Justin, a little disappointed when all
he did was shrug. “So, who bought it?”

Her smile faded a bit so that I could only see her upper
teeth. “Well, he asked that we not release his name.”

Her fingers curled around the loose corner of her list. She
either really didn’t want us to push or she was dying to be forced into
telling. Before I could decide, Principal Edwards shouted at her and she
scurried off. No smile.

“
Sooo
…” I let my voice trail off
hoping Justin would fill in the blanks exactly like I wanted him to.

“I have no idea. He could have. But, honestly, I’m not sure
how he’d keep a big painting a secret at the house.”

I thought of trying to sneak anything into that cozy
farmhouse between Mrs. Parker and the twins and Thomas. And there died that
dream.

Music poured out of the gym, some bad, cleaned-up version of
gansta
rap leaving me wondering where exactly my
peers thought we were growing up. Crepe paper streamers curtained the entrance
creating a hazy view of the gym’s transformation before we entered. Little
disco balls lit up the corners in flashes of blue and red and green.

“Do you want a drink?” Justin leaned down so I could hear
him, but his gaze was focused on the far side of the room by the darkened
bleachers.

I shifted just in time to see Luke pivot back toward the
group he was with.

“Does he really think we’re here together?” I couldn’t help
asking. Justin knew the plan so there was nothing to hide. He knew begging
might be involved.

Justin’s arm slid around my shoulder and he broke out that
deadly Parker grin. “He might. I may or may not have hinted that you were
coming here as my date.”

I started to pull away, but his hand tightened.

“Let him wonder, Amy.”

I was pretty sure there was no wondering going on. There
wasn’t even any covert glancing going on. There was only basking in the
attention of every girl in school who wanted a piece of the new guy.
The
hot
new guy.

Man, I wish he was kind of ugly.

It is a sad revelation to realize you’re on a fake date and
it’s the best one you’ve ever had. Justin made sure I had something to drink.
He introduced me to his friends. We danced to the songs I liked, sat out the
ones I didn’t.

What a shame I’d fallen for a different Parker boy.

I was laughing up at that crooked grin when the DJ stepped
aside to let Principal Edwards take the
mic
shadowed
by the efficient-looking, clipboard-carrying, won’t-tell-me-who-bought-my-painting
girl.

Justin’s
arm settled across my shoulder
again as I waited to see if I’d get
to offer myself up for public
humiliation or not.

So, what would it be? Would I get tossed into the spotlight
and claim the boy of my dreams? Or would I win and make my way through the
throngs, the heat of the spotlight following me, only to hold my hand out and
hear him say, “Tough luck. You had your chance.”

Or I could just lose.

Yeah. Losing looked pretty good just then.

Rachel and Jared appeared, pushing their way through the
semi-circle to join us. She really rocked as a best friend. Her hand found mine
and wrapped it snugly in her own.

“You know,” she started. “As grand gestures go, this one is
pretty quiet. No one is really going to know it’s a big time thing for you
except a handful. To most people, you just did a fundraiser and now you’re
going to have a nice dance. It’s all good.”

I sucked in a breath.
Right.
All good.

Across the gym, the soccer team hung out in a tight cluster.
Some with girlfriends.
Some with girl shadows. I
scanned their crowd catching both Chris and Luke smiling down at girls who were
not me.

Time to rethink.
Plan B.

“Justin, say I win—”

“You win.”

I stared at him, wondering where the bad second grade joke
came from at a moment like this.

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Wouldn’t it be fun if, say, I picked you to be my king?
Just on the off chance I win and all.”

Justin took me by the shoulders and forced me to face him.
“Amy, this is your chance. You’re going to win—I know it. And for tonight
you’ll be the RV It-girl. This is one of those unique lifetime opportunities.
Do you really want to waste it with me?”

I glanced around at the masses knowing I’d never flit
through them comfortably let alone count myself as one of them. “You are
kinda
hot, you know.”

“Yeah.
I know. Not the point.”

I swatted his shoulder. He had too much of his brother in
him anyway.

“Seriously.
If you panic, I’ll be
standing right here.” He looked over my shoulder toward the soccer team. “But
don’t panic. Okay?”

Principal Edwards hefted the
mic
off its stand. A resounding thud-thud-thud echoed as he tapped it to check if
it had magically turned itself off since the DJ had introduced him.

“Happy Homecoming Weekend!”
The man
could get excited about anything, but even he was juicing it up a little much.
“We had an amazing turnout for our auction and raised enough money for the fall
teams’ new uniforms. And now, for the moment you’ve been waiting for…” He
raised an envelope in his hand and the DJ kicked on a synthesized drum roll.

Justin squeezed my shoulder again and whispered, “Don’t
panic.”

“It was a very close race,” Mr. Edwards continued. “At the
last minute, we had a bid for the winner that pushed the crown her way.”

Beside me, Rachel bounced on her toes whispering, “It’s you!
It’s you!”

I shook my head, not sure how I wanted the contest to go.
“It could still be someone else.”

“But,” Mr. Edward continued. “Before I make the
announcement, I want to tell you all how very proud I am to serve at a school
where the desire to help others overtook the need to run a popularity contest.”

Rachel snorted. “Yeah, because keeping the popularity vote
that is Prom Court cuts all that right out.”

“And so, without further ado, the winner…” He broke open the
envelope with an overdone flourish and raised it toward the spotlight to read
as if he didn’t already know whose name was written there.
“With
a last minute anonymous bid—Amy Whalen.”

I stood there and did exactly what Justin told me not to do.
I panicked.

“Amy,” Justin whispered. “It’s you.”

He gave me a little shove as the light swung our way. I
froze, suddenly shocked to have everyone not only looking at me, but notice me.

Justin’s hand at my back still urged me forward, but his
voice came low and clear at my ear. “I’m right here. You can take the envelope
and come right back if you need to.”

I don’t want to run crazy with the symbolism or anything,
but I took a deep breath and—literally—stepped into the spotlight.

I worked free of the crowd and made my way to the stage
where Mr. Edwards held the
mic
and spoke in low tones
to a now-frazzled looking Efficient Girl.

At the top of the rickety stairs, Miss
Efficient waited with a shiny tiara and an oversized crown about as royal
looking as the cardboard ones from Burger King.
She immediately pulled
me into a tight hug. “I wanted to tell you when you asked who bought it, but
Chris made me promise to take the “bought by” tag down.
Which
didn’t make a lot sense.
But I figured he must be in on the surprise!”