The ABC's of Kissing Boys (11 page)

I opened my mouth to tell her to shut hers and watch the scrimmage (which would have sounded alarmingly like Hartley) when her friend Marg whacked her.

“Nice, Emma. Real smooth.”

“Well?” Emma replied. “Jeez, I don't know how to do these things.”

I let my stare bounce from one face to the other as I put the pieces together. “Tristan called you over to ask my favorite color?”

“Yeah,” Emma said. “Something about flowers.”

Marg rolled her eyes. “God! I'm not telling you any secrets, Emma.”

While the two of them bickered, my brain was trying to get around Tristan's request. Flowers! He was taking things
way
too seriously.

But Heartless was summoning me over with a crook of her finger, so I knew this was a subject for another time. “Focus on the field,” I told the girls, then jogged over to join the coach.

“He gone, Parker?” Hartley asked. She stood alone down on the sideline, a whistle the only adornment on her maroon sweat suit.

I nodded.

“For good?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“Okay. Thanks for taking care of that.” Her gaze went back to the field—Dayle was on a breakaway—but she kept her voice full and directed at me. “You're doing a good job with the team. The players like you, already look up to you. I can see it's going to be a much better season.”

Much better? For her, maybe. She wasn't varsity material trapped in a junior- varsity uniform. Besides, I wasn't sure what she even meant. We'd finished in the top tier last year and had had a heck of a lot of fun getting there.

“You might want to spend one- on- one time with some of the girls, boost their skills and confidence a little.” Staring at the field, she let out a wounded groan. I followed her gaze, to see Dayle falling on her butt. “Get back in there, Parker,” she told me, “and show them how it's done.”

I adjusted a shin guard and scurried off. Not because I felt like being obedient or earning more praise from Heartless. But because I loved soccer. And because I totally related to the girl with her butt in the grass, waiting for someone to offer a hand, pull her up and give her a break.

I was waiting, too.

Nuzzling
:
As the perfect precursor
to the perfect kiss, rub your face
against his neck.

T
hat night, I spotted Tristan out front, shooting hoops against a twilit sky.

A smile grazed his mouth as I crossed the street and headed toward him. He tossed me the ball. I caught it, aimed at the basket and shot. The ball bounced off the backboard, then thumped down on the pavement.

“Not bad,” he said.

“Not good, either.” I got my own rebound, then attempted to bounce the basketball from one thigh to the other, as I'd been doing with soccer balls since forever. But the weight and buoyancy of the ball was too different, so I gave up and tossed it back to him.

“So hey,” I said, “I hear I'm supposed to tell you my favorite color. Something to do with flowers?”

He cradled the ball in the crook of his arm and met my eye. “Someone's got a big mouth.”

“Apparently Emma's not real good at secrets.”

“Apparently.”

I waited for him to elaborate. When he didn't, I sat down on the curb and lifted my chin up at him.

“Tristan, you don't need to buy me flowers. In fact, don't waste a penny on me, okay? I think a kiss now and then at school is enough to keep everyone believing.”

“I'm not buying you flowers. And I don't really care what your favorite color is. It was just something to say. A way to chat up the girls.” He moved the ball over his head and lined it up to shoot. “Very soon this thing between us will be over, and it doesn't hurt for me to get to meet as many girls as I can now, while I have the opportunity.”

He fired off the shot. I didn't bother to watch where it went. I was too busy smacking my leg (and wishing it were his head). I knew I should be relieved that he had such a good handle on the limitations of our so- called relationship, but the
last
thing I wanted was him making time with other girls on my dime.

“You're using me to meet girls?”

“Not ‘using’ …”

I jumped to my feet. “Hey, bad enough I'm dating a freshman. But one who's hitting on girls behind my back? Now the only way I'll save face is by murdering you in your sleep.”

He retrieved the rolling ball, then walked toward me in long, even strides. “You're reading too much into this, Parker. Don't you realize that no girl would take me seriously right now? That she'd know that if I didn't realize how the gods had smiled on me by giving me you, I was not worth having?”

Huh? Man, was he good at double- talk.

“And not just because you're two grades ahead. But because you're totally beautiful and way out of my league. Not to mention kind of fun when you let your guard down.”

Beautiful?

“The thing is,” he continued, “I know it's not in the stars for us. And I'm okay with that. But you can't blame a guy for looking out for himself. Trying to better himself.” He turned and threw up a shot that swished. “Because that's what this is all about for you.”

I opened my mouth to argue but couldn't quite find the words. Then I tried to frown, but I felt the touch of a smile oddly shining through. So I went for the rebound, passed it back to him and watched him shoot again.

Still sorta mad. But sorta not, too.

We shot hoops for a few more minutes, then scheduled a “lesson” for the next afternoon. I shuffled on home, feeling oddly excited.

•

As planned, the next day, Rachael met me at my locker before lunch. We zoomed off campus in her adorable two- door sports car, which stopped being so cute the fourth or fifth time we circled the Taco Bell lot in search of a double- wide parking space where no one could accidentally ding the bodywork.

Clearly, Rachael had some issues. Including waffling on her commitment to soccer. But, hey, turning Tilt- A-Whirl green with car sickness was still better than eating alone—and it could only help my social life to be seen out and about with an A-list senior.

Inside the Bell, we quickly discovered we had more in common than being team captains. We both ordered Baja Chalupas, were into mixing sodas for the perfect, personalized taste and had mutual heart attacks when Luke Anderson cruised through the door.

Rachael started gasping because, well, he's Luke and has that kind of effect on females. And I went scrambling for an oxygen mask because I knew the slip of a lip here in front of her could ruin
everything.

“Hey, Parker,” he called out, spotting me. He had the sloppy college- student look going on, flip- flops, long shorts, wrinkled T-shirt and uncombed hair. I wondered if he'd just gotten out of bed or if he'd yet to go there.

My neck suddenly stiff, I managed to nod.

He cruised up to our table, then did a first: leaned in to give me a cheek kiss. I felt my eyes go so wide, I could take in all of the restaurant in one blink, while Rachael made a strangled noise deep in her throat.

When he pulled his lips away, I searched to find my own voice. “What are you doing on this side of town?”

“Laundry. I couldn't find any clean socks this morning so decided a trip to Mom's was more important than my first two classes.” His glance shifted to Rachael and he studied her face. “You're Dan the Man's girlfriend, right?”

“Ex,” she said. “We broke up over the summer.”

He made a
hmmm
noise that I was pretty sure meant he could care less. While Rachael turned heads at DHS, I knew from conversations between Luke and my brother that Luke's idea of heaven was one of the girls closer to his dorm room. High school girls who lived with their parents no longer had a chance.

“This is Rachael,” I said, remembering my manners. I didn't bother introducing Luke. Her gasp when he walked in the door, and her moan when he kissed me, had told everyone that she knew who he was.

He waggled his brow, then slid his gaze back to me. “You working hard—doing those, uh, drills we talked about?”

Everything inside me tightened.

“Because, you know, Parker, when the game starts, you're going to need to deliver.”

I felt like delivering a kick to his shin.
Shut
up,
already!
“
Yes,
Luke. Don't worry about me.”

A slow smile tugged up one side of his mouth. “It's important that you prove yourself a clutch player, someone who can be counted on, who doesn't give a teammate the
kiss -
off when the heat is on.”

Okay, that was it. Now I'd have to strangle him! Rachael was no idiot; she was sure to put two and two together.

I wrung my hands in my lap. “Well, Luke, since you missed some classes, it sounds like
you 're
the one who's got some studying to go do.” I nodded toward the food line.
Like,
go
!

He held my eyes; then his grin widened. “Yeah, I need to get going. But I'll see you soon, right?” Then he glanced at Rachael like he was adding a PS to a letter. “Uh, nice to meet you.”

“Yeah.” She watched him lope off and, without changing her gaze, directed her attention back to me. “Wow, Parker … how do you know him so well?”

“My brother.” I grabbed my soda cup (three parts Pepsi, one part lemonade, for a perfect lemony- cola taste) and took a long drink, hoping the icy- cold liquid would chill me out.

Because omigod, how lame
was
Luke? I mean, he could take lessons on confidentiality and keeping it real from my freshman boyfriend.

Still, I had to remain cool around Rachel, so I swallowed and tried to control my breathing.

“If I'd known Luke Anderson was
that
into soccer,” Rachael said, still looking after him, “I never would have quit last year. I would have gone to him for drill advice. And anything else he wanted to give.”

She grinned, and I tried to. “But you were with Danny, right?” I asked innocently.

“Don't remind me,” she said, crumpling her paper chalupa wrapper into a ball. “I can't believe all the time I wasted on him. I was so sure we were soul mates, thought any sacrifice I made was an investment in our future. But all it got me was a year of staring at his feet sticking out from under his car and a let's- see- other-people speech after his grad night.
Ass.”
She shook her head.

“But now,” she said, brightening, “I'm all about meeting new people. Especially guys. Which reminds me, I don't suppose Luke hangs out at your house on weekends or anything?”

“Not so much, now that he and my brother are in college.” But no way was I slamming that door shut. “I'll keep you posted, though.”

“You do that.” She smiled, then leaned across the table toward me. “And I'll keep you posted on a couple varsity players who may not be making it through the season.”

My heart sped up, in a new and better way, better than when I'd spotted the town hottie.

“You know AJ?” she asked. “Even though her doctor gave her the okay to play on that knee, she's limping when she thinks no one is looking. And everyone knows Jessie struggles with her grades. So stay sharp. You just might get the call to move up.”

I did a slow nod of appreciation. But the truth was, I was hoping I already had the gears of that move- up in motion. The question would be who I'd replace. Before today, Rachael had been my first choice, but as I sat across from her over lunch, sharing “secrets” and Baja Chalupas, guilt was raising its ugly head. I didn't want it to be someone I knew, someone who could get hurt the same way I had.

Still, I had to hang tough. It was Heartless's decision, just as it had been her decision to slam the varsity roster shut without me on it.

•

At school, Rachael and I parted ways. I moved in sync with the after- lunch crowd, doing that look- straight-ahead thing where you don't look directly into anyone's face.

But my gaze sharpened when I spotted Becca at her locker.

“Hey …,” I said, stopping and tapping her on the shoulder.

She looked back, briefly met my gaze, then turned away.

Huh? My brain scrambled, but all I could think was that she'd heard about Tristan and me. But that didn't make a lot of sense. Becca wasn't like that—wasn't judgmental.

After an endless moment, she pivoted on one heel. “You're still here?”

Wow.

That's when I knew. It wasn't Tristan who'd changed things. It was Rachael. And more important, me. “Oh, Becca,” I cried, my insides churning, “did you wait for me for lunch?”

Her nonreply spoke volumes.

“I thought we'd left it open”—my words tumbled out—“like, maybe we'd meet up, maybe not.”

“You
thought.
Yeah, I'll bet you did.”

My stomach hit rock bottom.

“About as much as you thought about me when we started school here. When suddenly you had all these super-cool soccer friends and no time for me.” Her nostrils flared. “Sorry they up and dumped you now, Parker, but don't come knocking anymore on my door. I'm not a total fool.”

And then she stormed off, leaving me alone in the bustling crowd.

Orbicularis Oris
:
The muscle used to pucker the lips. Keep it
in shape!

I
hadn't
dumped
Becca, I mused while my teachers stood at their whiteboards and talked. We'd just gone our separate ways. Friends did that all the time and didn't hold grudges. It was natural selection or survival of the fittest or some sociological term. Right? I didn't have to feel bad about this.