The Naughty List (19 page)

I wanted to plead, but I didn’t. Because I knew that we needed time to figure things out if we hoped to figure them out at all. This was my chance to find out just who the heck I really was, because I wasn’t sure anymore. I’d been a Smitten Kitten, an SOS operative, a perfect daughter, and Aiden’s girlfriend. But now I needed to find me.

“You’re right,” I said finally. “I think more time apart is a good idea.” And it broke my heart to say it.

Aiden closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he stood in front of me, breathing and hanging his head. There were a couple of calls from the audience—things like: “Kiss her” and “Get back to the game.” It was nice of them to care. Aiden and I had been perfect together. Or almost perfect.

Aiden opened his eyes. “You’re my girl, Tessa Crimson. You’ll always be my girl.” He brought me close to him and wrapped me up in his arms, staring down into my face. “And even if we aren’t together, that won’t change.”

“We could be the happiest
undating
couple ever.” I smiled at him.

He laughed. “Something like that.”

Someone began a slow clap. I looked over to see my dad standing, slapping his hands together loudly. My mother stood up next to him and joined in. Soon the entire gymnasium was cheering for us, applauding the saddest breakup in the history of breakups. And yet I knew it’d be okay. Even apart, Aiden and I could still love each other.

“Hey.” Aiden leaned close, grinning, looking sideways at the bleachers. “Give me a kiss,” he whispered. “You know, for the crowd.”

I’d kiss him, all right. I’d kiss him good and plenty.

I licked my more-than-eager lips and got up on my tiptoes to press them to his. I was so happy that he’d touch my mouth again that I balled his jersey up in my hand and pulled him closer to me. Aiden and I made out—right there in center court. As the halftime show.

The crowd erupted. It was so loud that I had to reach up and cover my ears. Aiden chuckled and released me, giving the crowd a double thumbs-up. Then he turned back to me.

“You are definitely a Sex Kitten,” Aiden said, looking me over.

I was about to correct him when he held up his finger.

“I mean
Smitten Kitten.”

“Thank you.”

We watched each other amid the screaming fans as both of our smiles began to fade. “I’m gonna miss you, baby,” he whispered.

I pressed my lips together to keep from crying and ruining the moment. “Not as much as I’ll miss you, Wildcat.”

Just then, the locker room door swung open and clanged loudly against the cement wall of the gymnasium. Coach Taylor came storming out. My heart sped up. Something told me that he might be a little PO’d at Aiden. When he got to us, he crossed his stocky arms across his chest and glared.

“What’s up, Coach?” Aiden asked. He was still staring at me, looking nostalgic.

“What’s up?
” Coach Taylor looked ready to pounce. “Oh, I don’t know, son. How about the fact that you walked out on my speech, attacked another student, and are making a spectacle in center court during halftime? Is that enough
up
?”

Aiden chuckled. “Am I suspended, then?” I darted a nervous glance between them.

“No,” Coach Taylor said, looking into the bleachers. “Luckily for you the Ducks are winning. They’re so high off their own fumes, they didn’t hear a thing from the locker room. The principal was calling for your removal, but I talked him into suspending you from school starting tomorrow,” he said gruffly, pulling up on and adjusting the waistband on his khakis. “You think I’m gonna let my star player get kicked out of the finals?”

Glad his priorities were in order. The playoffs came first.

“Tessa?” Coach Taylor asked, and looked at me. “Do you mind if Aiden fulfills his commitment to his team?” He was being sarcastic.

“No, sir.”

Aiden reached over to touch my fingers. “Go cheer for me, baby,” he said, leaning quickly to kiss my cheek. Then he walked over to slap his coach on the back. “Well, then, let’s go!” he said wide-eyed, like Coach Taylor was the one slowing them up.

Coach Taylor exhaled as if he’d been worried that Aiden was a lost cause. He followed my ex-boyfriend as they jogged toward the lockers. Aiden turned back once to wave at me, and I giggled. He was so dang cute.

Kira stared at me as I approached the sidelines. Her face was unreadable. I paused in front of her, reaching down to pick up my pom-poms. The rest of the girls were cheering from the line, but Kira watched me. I looked behind us at the crowd, happy to see that Christian was gone. My father winked at me from behind his glasses. He was purely peachy.

“So,” Kira said, slapping my hip with her pom-pom. “What was up with the make-out session? You two still broken up and shit?”

“Kira. Language.”

She beamed. “Welcome back, Tess. The Smitten Kittens have missed the snot out of you.” Clever girl. She’d been testing me.

I wrapped my pom-pomed hands around her and gave her a hug. She was a great friend and—for the rest of the season—captain. Even though the season ended tonight.

“All right,” I announced as I pulled back. “Let’s win this game with our school spirit.”

She jumped up and down. The rest of the girls keyed into our enthusiasm, and the squad was in full effect. Even Leona was smiling.

Twenty minutes and fifteen cheers later, the Wildcats lost by three points. It was disappointing, but I was pretty sure that Aiden and I were both still in good moods. As his coach shook his head on the sideline, Aiden kept looking over at me and waving. He was whipped cream, even if he didn’t belong to me anymore.

I’d take some time, reevaluate my goals. Maybe think up some new cheers. And then, who knew what would happen.

There would always be time for Aiden. After all, Kittens had nine lives.

SOS UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT

Dear Clients,

I’m happy to announce the reforming of SOS. Due to a change in leadership, services were temporarily put on hold. But now we’re back and totally badass.

If your boyfriend is acting suspicious, text a cheater request form to our new number at 555-1863 but be specific. For us to catch him in the act, we’ll need to know exactly who he’s doing.

Again, we’re psyched to help out the girls of Washington High in their quest for a decent boyfriend. We’re currently updating our Naughty List roster, so text with any important information.

There is now a fee schedule for our services, but for the grand reopening, we’ll offer a 50 percent discount to the first ten clients.

We’re back. And we’re going to kick cheating ass.

SOS-XOXO

SOS

Text: 555-0101

Exposing Cheaters for Over Three Years

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

Before I dive in, I figured I’d throw out a disclaimer so that a bunch of you can stop reading right now.
^**
This story is fictional. No ex-boyfriends (or their reputations) were harmed in the writing of this
novel. Glad I got that out of the way.

First things first, I’d like to thank Ben Schrank over at Razorbill for being a smart, brave and overall awesome person. You rock! Next, I’d like to thank all of the lovely people at Razorbill, especially Anne Heltzel—a seriously butt kickin’ editor—and Lexa Hillyer. And to the wonderful Laura Schechter, thank you.

My agent Melissa Sarver is an angel—patient and wise. Thank you for taking my calls. All six thousand of them.

Of course, I never would have gotten to the great people at Penguin if it weren’t for my insanely cool friends and writing partners who helped me on this book. Don’t fight. I love you all equally. Heather Hansen, Trish Doller, Amanda K. Morgan, Jay Asher, Andrew Carmichael, Sasha Vivelo, Daisy Whitney, Courtney Summers, the Crazy Cats over at Random Musings, and the wonderful professionals on Verla Kay’s Blue Boards.

My family has always been a motivating force in my life—my grandparents most of all. But I’d also like to extend my love and thanks to my mother, Connie. Mom, you always said I was a “go-getter”! Also, thank you to my father, David Ciccone; my brothers, David and Jason; sisters, Natalie and Alex. Plus Jeff, my cousins, aunts, uncles and nieces and nephews—too many to name.

There were also some wonderfully encouraging friends and family that I’d love to give a special shout out to: Emily H., Lynny W, Richard R., Amy C., Becky D., and Brandi C. Also, a professional thanks to Andrew Karre and Amy Tipton.

Most of all, I want to thank my husband, Jesse, for always believing in this near-impossible dream. It was your encouragement and never-ending bad jokes that kept me going. And to my beautiful children, Joseph and Sophia, I promise to make dinner again sometime soon.

I hope you all enjoy the book you’ve helped create.