Do Over (6 page)

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Authors: Emily Evans

BOOK: Do Over
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Even from where I sat, he smelled a bit like strawberry massage lotion. I held my fist under my nose, and didn’t let his fragrance distract me from his words.

John’s shoulders squared and he spoke with his hands. “Well, they’ve cleared the site, so it’s this big open field. And the school owns the property.”

The expressions on the faces of my fellow volunteers were blank. None of us knew where he was going. John tapped a key on his laptop, and the image changed to an empty field consisting of brown dirt and sparse patches of dying grass. “So the outdoor venue is free. We’ll go BYOB, so the beverages are free. We throw in some snacks, finger foods everyone likes: Cheetos, cheese puffs, chips and salsa. You get the idea.”

“Awesome,” Zoe said with a creepy stare at me.

John used a laser pointer to highlight areas on the image. “We’ll put the port-a-potties on the east end, the bonfire on the north, and dancing on the south end.”

I couldn’t breathe.

Amy used her inhaler.

John slid an elbow on top of the lectern and leaned his weight against it. The wood groaned and tipped forward. “That way we use headlights and truck radios tuned to the same station for music.” John clicked a key on his laptop, and the strains of a popular country song poured out.

A song I never want to hear again.

“We won’t need a ton of tables if we use tailgates for the ice chests.” John bounced on the balls of his feet. “We’ll have money left over. What do you think, guys? Chill, right?”

“Port-a-potties?” Amy asked in a whisper, twisting her inhaler between her hands, keeping it at the ready.

“Yeah,” he said, oblivious to Amy’s tone. “They have fancy ones now. They’re almost like real bathrooms.”

John wants to have prom in a cleared field with fancy port-a-potties. Potties almost like real bathrooms. Was aiming for indoor plumbing really setting the bar too high? I shoved the Sparkle banner on the shelf and waved as the last volunteer left.

“What’s with the look?” Trey asked, coming in through the blue door. He wore his clean, pre-game uniform.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I swiveled in my place and met Trey’s eyes. “John’s going down.”

Trey’s lips twitched.

I waved the Brazil Nut lotion at him. “Strip off your shirt. Lie on your stomach.” I twisted the lid off with a slow motion, and smacked the cream between my palms. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

Being a star athlete, I knew Trey could move fast. I thought he’d either be out the door or on the table in ten seconds flat. He lay flat on the table in five.

***

Despite the cheers of the fans and the chirpy commentary of the announcer, I heard the call loud and clear. “Water girl?”

I tossed a Gatorade and Trey caught it in one hand. Our team had swept this game, and his uniform still had the seams pressed into the fabric.

Aster bent under the table and grabbed a replacement bottle from the cooler. She popped a foam insulator over the exterior; the image of a dragon roared out. Only the best for the team.

Aster squished two of the foam insulators between her fingers. “If you’re going to wear a sports bra, at least buy the padded ones. The bra you’re wearing squashes your boobs all flat.”

I frowned and crossed my arms. Had everyone on the team heard that? Yep. Had Trey’s gaze flicked to my cleavage? Yep.
Great.

“How’s the man quest going?”

I turned my attention back to Aster. “It’s on hold during games. You can’t find sophisticated anywhere near a soccer field.”

“Are you sure you want artsy?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“We’re doing a cheer-a-thon next week for the museum district and the downtown art fair.” Aster fluffed her hair. “Come with us. If there’s a straight guy there, I’ll make sure you meet him.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

Trey frowned and stared at the field, threading his hand through his hair. His efforts mussed his appearance more than the one-sided game.

***

A new week. Same old problem. I slid down in my chair and checked the clock. Would this Sparkle meeting ever end? I’d stopped taking notes fifteen minutes earlier when John suggested Funyuns and Red Bull. Everyone jumped on John’s ideas like they were silly putty and he was newsprint.

Someone had to set the standard. I’m not constructing a leaning tower of pizza or a Doritos pyramid. Nacho-flavored corn chips at a formal ball? If John weren’t so popular, none of these volunteers would be nodding. Even non-judgmental Ms. Herrington winced at Doritos.

“We’re a go for the field.” John smelled like vanilla lotion today. It was a weird mix given his passion for onions and cheese.

“Epic.” Zoe flipped her hair and her silver eyes shone.

John said, “We’ll order the permits and…”

Ms. Herrington’s hand flick cut short John’s plans. She clicked her nails together. “So all the volunteers agree? Prom and its after-party should be held in a field?” John beamed out at the girls. Heads nodded. Ms. Herrington enunciated her next words, “In the dirt field, where the old stadium used to sit?”

More nods, but with less vigor. I checked the clock again.

“Fine, you’ll need to test it. We’ll have a trial run for the prom committee. A mandatory trial run.” Ms. Herrington held up a clipboard and tapped her fingernails harder against the surface.
Click, click, click.

“Next weekend, you’ll camp out on Prom Field. John, arrange for twenty tents and forty kids. That’s not even a fraction of what you’ll need for prom. If next weekend goes without a hitch, we’ll proceed with the field as your venue and camping as your after-party.”

Camping.

Volunteers shifted in their seats. Amy shrunk so low, I could only see her bangs over the tabletop. Carla chewed on the end of her eraser and stared at her spreadsheet.

“This is mandatory. You need to try out some of these ideas you’re jumping on.” Ms. Herrington winked at me and the hope stirred. Had the seeds of a rebellion just been sown?

***

Lauren knocked on Dad’s office and I let her in. “Good game,” she said and glanced at the locker room.

“Yeah. You can wait for John to finish if you want, but you know how Aster gets.”

Lauren’s shrugged. “It’s cool. I could use some sex talk.”

“She doesn’t lead with abstinence.” I shoved my hair behind my ears and turned my head at the sound of the locker room door.

“Abstinence, huh?” Trey leaned his broad shoulders against the doorframe blocking the view. Lauren rose on tiptoe to peep over his shoulder.

I waved Trey in with a grin, “You should stick around and hear about abstinence. It’s not just for people with promise rings, you know.”

“Can’t. Got John’s party tonight.”

“Shocker.”

Trey shook his head and gave a slow grin. “I don’t want your crazy ideas messing with my plans.”

***

For his own party, John went with a minimalist theme: plastic cups and BYOB. Country music boomed through the back doors into his sunroom and out to the backyard.

I tried to keep my heels from sinking into the St. Augustine, but the ground was so mushy. It had either rained here last night or John’s dad had overused the sprinklers.

“Don’t look, now, but Zoe’s glaring at you, again.” Lauren swatted a mosquito away from her arm and muttered about West Nile virus.

I stirred the humid air to help her shoo the bloodsucker. “You noticed, too? What is that?”

“You really don’t know?”

“No.”

“Zoe’s sports club boosters raised like $4000 all year and were really proud.” Lauren’s grin had a malicious edge. “When everyone found out
we
raised fifty, they started comparing her to you.”

“That can’t be it. That’s stupid. Fundraising’s not a competition. More money for all the school projects is a good thing.”

Lauren rolled her eyes, and her expression said I wasn’t getting it. “You made her look crap-tastic. Now she wants you gone.”

“I’m not competing.”

“I know, because you won.” Lauren’s gaze flickered toward a card table.

Carla put a handful of quarters on the table and a cup in the center. She waved one quarter in the air, signaling for players.

Lauren gestured toward the house. “Get drinks. I’ll grab us a spot.”

I walked past Trey on my way through the sunroom. He didn’t have an obvious date. When he’d said date earlier, he must’ve meant some girl he’d find and hook up with, then ignore. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Trey returned his attention back outside. I followed his gaze and caught sight of Zoe lounging with her platinum-hair threaded through the back of a woven lawn chair. Her shirt displayed enough cleavage to draw all the male eyes.

Damn. He had a short memory. I leaned close enough to get a whiff of his amazing cologne. “Not her.” I hadn’t thought the timing out. If I had, I’d have realized that standing near Trey was a tactical error.

Zoe focused on Trey as if I’d backlit him with strobe lights. She sprang up so fast her lawn chair folded in on itself and collapsed into the grass.

“Trust me, Trey. Not Zoe.”

“I’m not sure when I gave you permission to weigh in on my life.” Trey tightened his jaw and lifted his chin. The country music twanged in harmony with his sense of oppression.

“I’m not.”

“Maybe she’s my date tonight.” Trey took a sip from his plastic cup. Sour beer fumes wafted out.

Drinking made people either amenable to suggestion or obstinate to an irrational degree. I wondered which Trey would be tonight, as I said again, “Not her.”

“Why?”

“It’s not about you. She’s trying to compete with me or something weird.” I stepped even closer and put force behind my words. “Pick another girl.”

“You don’t control my decisions.” Trey broke away and stepped toward the door. He didn’t get much further before Zoe reached him.

Idiot.
I shook my head. Zoe was a horrible choice. They were two bundles of destruction, waiting to bring out the worst in each other. Plus, at five-feet, she was way too short for him.

I put myself between them, and tried to reason with her. I used the argument which would have worked on me to stop an imminent hookup. “Trey’s one of Dad’s jocks. A hookup and ship out kind of guy.”

“Me likey,” Zoe said with a determined glint in her eyes.

I grimaced. Only someone that short and cute could get away with saying something that stupid. I backed away from the couple.

They stood a little too close and whispered to each other. Trey appeared even taller by comparison. For a moment, I thought I’d let him continue down this collision course, but frankly, I have a coach for a dad and strategy is in my blood. If plan A fails, go to plan B.

Plan B was packed in the form of a cute brown-haired guy. He dug his toe into the sunroom’s blue Astroturf floor covering and paid more attention to it than the other guests. I walked over, kicked at his shoe, and grinned.

His head popped up and he smiled. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

My grin deepened, mostly in apology for what I was about to unleash. “Call me Pez.” I grazed my fingertips over his shoulder. The universal flirting signal let him know I didn’t mind touching him. Next, I put a hand to my necklace. “Are you on the football team?”

“I play for Magnolia.”

“Ooh. How do you know John?”

“John’s family has property out by my parents’ place.” Ryan glanced toward John. “He throws a cool party, huh?”

“Yeah. John’s a great party planner.” It took a lot of effort to keep the sarcasm out of my voice and the smile on my lips.
Prom in a field. John’s brilliant.
I touched Ryan’s shoulder again. “Do you--”

My words were cut off by the arrival of Zoe with Trey close behind her. Trey’s gaze rested on Zoe, but her focus had switched to Ryan.

Zoe pushed between me and the new guy and licked her lips. “I can’t reach the spout because they hung the keg in the tree.” Zoe lifted her arms to demonstrate, resulting in the separation of her shirt’s hem from the top of her miniskirt. “You look tall enough to help.”

Ryan’s head tilted and he zeroed in on her pale midriff.

Trey frowned, catching a clue. His gaze met mine and he shook his head at me, as if I’d caused this.

“Pez and I--” Ryan said.

While impressed with his resistance, I knew it wouldn’t last. Zoe had skills.

Zoe batted her eyelashes and held out a hand. “Pwease, pwetty pwease?”

“Uh, well, okay, I guess I could help.” Ryan followed her with a backwards glance at me.

I was surprised he bothered. Waving, I silently wished him well.

“What was that?” Trey’s rich voice sounded annoyed, and his hand crinkled his plastic cup.

“Told ya.”

“Did you cost me my date?” Trey narrowed his eyes at the departing Zoe. “She’s not coming back, is she?”

“Come on. Did you really want her to? Weally?” I imitated Zoe’s kittenish way of speaking, and touched the tip of my tongue to my top lip. I couldn’t help it.

“Now you have to find me a new date.”

“I already told you, and Dad, that I’m not setting you up. I like my friends.”

Trey still eyed the departing Zoe. “Are you going after that dude?”

“If a guy can be distracted so easily, I don’t want him.” I tapped the side of Trey’s cheek to make my point. In response, he tried to kiss my hand. I yanked it away.

“This isn’t the first date of mine you’ve ruined,” Trey said. “You owe me.”

“Sad face.” I blew off his neediness and went to get Lauren’s drink. Neither Trey nor Zoe bothered me for the rest of the night.

***

“Brr,” Ms. Herrington said Saturday morning, as she handed me a tent assignment. Trallwyn was experiencing a freak cold front and our chaperon seemed unhappy with the drop in temperature and the outdoors in general. She rubbed her arms, and her gaze flitted back to argument going on in tent number one.

John would assign himself tent number one. “Thanks thanked Ms. Herrington.” Clutching my assignment card, and shivering a little, I peeped in on the fight. The acrid smell of new canvas hit me, no doubt fueled their irritation.

John sat on a tote bag and his big body seemed to take up most of the limited tent space. His roommate Ian rolled on the green tent floor while Trey stood by the wall watching.

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