Hard to Get (4 page)

Kelly got off the bench and went to stand next to Dave. She raised her eyebrows at me. “You're on my team,” she mouthed. I closed my eyes and offered up a tiny prayer:
Please, God, let Kelly pick first. I can't stand watching him pick
her
over me—
again. I surreptitiously picked at my tiny shorts, which had an uncomfortable way of wedging themselves where they weren't invited.

“Dave, you can pick first.” Ms. Lenning waved her clipboard at him.

He didn't even pause. “Tay,” he said with a big cheesy grin.

I coughed. Tay? Did he say Tay? I looked around for a place to vomit but, unfortunately, found none. Taylor, however, stood up, offered the assembled gym class her very best beauty-pageant smile, and skipped neatly down the stairs. I morosely watched her giant blond ponytail bounce by.

“I choose Val,” Kelly announced.

I stood up. A murmur ran through the bleachers. Kevin's eyes grew wide. For a moment, I couldn't figure out what was going on. Then I saw Kelly's face, which had an apologetic grimace around the mouth. Our eyes met.
What?
I mouthed. Her eyes pointedly traveled downward. I glanced at myself. Oh my God. The shorts. They seemed to have shrunk even further since I put them on five minutes ago. The hem barely reached the bottom edge of my underwear, revealing my entire thigh and—I gingerly passed a hand behind me—a good portion of my rear also. I looked around. Brian North and Travis were nodding and grinning appreciatively. As I watched, Brian
leaned over to another guy next to him and whispered something. The guy looked over at me and grinned also.

Ms. Lenning seemed oblivious. “Okay, come on, Val, get down here!” she shouted. “Dave, pick.”

I didn't hear who Dave picked next because, as I walked over to Kelly, a slow clapping began behind me, and then spread, with more and more people joining in until the entire male population of the class was applauding my tiny shorts with sincere and genuine appreciation.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand up straight. The clapping died down but the grins and nods didn't. With one exception—after a quick glance, Dave was ignoring me. I don't know whether that was good or not—he wasn't paying attention to my humiliation, but then again, he wasn't paying attention to
me
either. Instead, he was leaning over, clasping one of Taylor's hands as she whispered in his ear.

After everyone was picked, Ms. Lenning blew her whistle, and the squeak of sneakers and the thump of the basketball filled the gym. Almost immediately, I forgot about the shorts, Dave, Taylor, my life. Kelly grabbed the
tip-off and wheeled around. Taylor was right in her face, but Kelly darted to one side and dribbled past her. “Kelly!” Maya Kohli stood under the basket, open. I raced over to them. Travis blocked Maya.

“Here!” I waved my arms. Kelly gave me a little nod and passed the ball to me. The rough leather
thunk
ed into my hands. I wheeled around but Taylor was guarding me now. She danced in front of me, panting, her mouth glistening. Our faces were so close, I could see a poppy seed caught between her two front teeth. Her breath smelled like watermelon Jolly Ranchers. I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to just throw the ball at her head. Instead, I feinted left and right. Clear, I raised the ball to my chest and bent my knees to shoot. But just as my feet left the ground and the ball left my hands, a voice screamed behind me, “Don't worry, Val! I got it!” Then a massive, sweaty bulk slammed into me.

“Ooof!”
Kevin's elbow hit me square in the diaphragm. The ball flew from my hands. I landed on the waxed wood floor and skidded several feet on my rear, coming to rest against the lower bleachers.

“Oh wow, sorry, Val.” As I sat on the
floor, struggling to breathe, Kevin's concerned face loomed above me like a red moon in orbit. I looked up at him, and a large droplet of sweat fell from his forehead. It splatted right between my eyes. I opened my mouth and drew in a giant, shuddering breath. Kelly knelt next to me and patted my back.

“All right, nothing to worry about.” Ms. Lenning's crew cut appeared behind Kevin's head. “Just got the wind knocked out of her.”

“Val!”

“Are you okay?”

“Do you want me to take you to the nurse?”

“Do you want
me
to kiss it and make it better?”

A crowd of eager male faces clustered above me. Travis Gosdin reached down and tried to haul me to my feet by the armpits, while Brian North dusted off my barely clad rear, oh so helpfully.

“I'm fine,” I snarled, swatting his hand away.

“I was just trying to help you, Val.” Kevin crouched down next to me, worry pasted all over his big moose face. “I thought maybe
you couldn't get that shot.” He paused. I could see his brain working very, very hard. “But I guess I knocked you over instead.”

“Right. You did.” I struggled to my feet with Kelly's assistance. Ms. Lenning slapped my shoulder.

“Go take a breather, Val. Back on the court, everyone. Hustle! Hustle!”

I made my way toward the bleachers, but after a few steps, I felt like someone was watching me. I turned around. Kevin, Travis, Brian, and about six other guys were all standing in a knot, apparently enjoying the little show my shorts were putting on for them. Dave, however, had reverted back to his default position and was glued back on to Taylor's face as they stood off on the sidelines. I scowled at my attentive audience as fiercely as I could. Kevin smiled and nodded as if I'd just thrown him a bouquet of roses.

With a sigh, I sank down on the hard wooden bench and pressed my ribs experimentally, trying to gauge what kind of a bruise I was going to have by tomorrow. Then Ms. Lenning blew her whistle. “Foul! Taylor shooting two!” She pointed to the foul line.

I leaned back and rested my arms on the bleacher above me. This should be good. There was no way she'd make it. Now maybe Dave would see what a ditz he'd wound up with. Taylor stood at the foul line and awkwardly dribbled a few times. Everyone watched as she fumbled and the ball rolled away. “Oops.” She giggled as she picked it up and started dribbling all over again. She poised herself to throw, holding the ball way too high, practically against one shoulder, her elbows almost over her head. I couldn't help grinning. Then she threw the ball and my grin disappeared as I watched it swish through the net in a perfect arc.

“Yeah, Taylor!” Dave shouted and ran onto the court to grab her by the waist. Everyone else on their side applauded as he kissed her right in front of the basket. I slumped down, cradling my still-aching midsection, watching Dave swing Taylor around in his arms like she'd just broken a world record.

“Scoot over.” Kelly slid onto the bench next to me. “I think that brought new meaning to the phrase ‘crappy throw.'”

“But she made it,” I pointed out.

“So what, when she looks like Little Miss Strawberry Patch taking a shot?”

I looked over at Kelly's grumpy face and nudged her with my knee. “Thanks.”

She nudged me back. “Sure. I'll bad-mouth your enemies anytime.”

After school, we convened in the basement at Becca's. I flopped onto a giant leather armchair. I was in serious need of some self-medication in the form of Twizzlers and a giant Diet Coke. Kelly stretched out on the couch opposite and propped her feet on the arm. “Ah,” she said, grabbing a bag of M&M's and putting it on her chest. “I love your basement, Becca.”

“Me too,” I agreed, looking around the big, airy space, complete with plasma TV and built-in sound system. Becca's dad owned the biggest chain of lighting stores in the state, so they were loaded.

“Any more stalking at school?” Becca asked, sitting down cross-legged on the
thick gray carpet and sucking up some Diet Coke through a Twizzler.

I curled up in the soft leather cushions. “Did Kelly tell you about gym?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Kevin trying to save you and Dave making out with Taylor—”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, cutting her off. “I know what happened. I was there, remember? What I can't figure out is why I'm getting all of this attention
now
, when I really, really don't feel like it.”

“Well, I've got it figured out.” Kelly lined up a row of green M&M's on the cushion in front of her. “It's so obvious, I can't believe we didn't think of it earlier.”

“Are you going to let us in on the brilliant explanation, or what?” Becca asked.

Kelly ate the first M&M. “Val's available.” She put another M&M in her mouth and sucked on it noisily.

“That's it?” I asked. “I already knew that.”

Kelly rearranged the M&M's into a circle. “No, there's more. Think about it: This is the first time you've been single for more than twenty-four hours since eighth grade. These guys are just trying to seize their chance with you while they still can.”

I opened my mouth to disagree, but then closed it. Could that possibly be true? I mentally shuffled a series of past boyfriends as if they were a deck of cards. Then I laid them out. Kelly was right. I'd gone from boy to boy to boy with less than a week total of single life in the last four years. “Wow …, ” I said slowly. “You're right.”

“Well, it's kind of nice having your pick, isn't it?” Becca laughed. She cracked another Diet Coke.

I shook my head. “No, it's really annoying me! Isn't it enough that I have to watch Dave with
her
constantly? Now, just because I'm single, I have to fend off every available guy?”

Becca rapidly chomped another Twizzler. She looked like she was thinking about something.

“Isn't that like your tenth Twizzler?” Kelly asked.

“Isn't that like your ten millionth M&M?” Becca countered, shoving the last of the Twizzler into her mouth. “Do you want a lettuce sandwich with those, too?” She turned to me. “You need to escape, Val. Too bad you can't drop out for a while. If you had some time to hide out, I bet you could get
over Dave
and
all the guys at school would forget about you.”

Kelly sat up. “That's it! Val runs away to Jamaica! She grows dreads and starts living on the beach. Yah, mon!” She laughed so hard a green M&M flew out of her mouth and bounced off the flat screen across the room. She got up to retrieve it.

“That's the problem,” I said, slithering off the chair. I curled up in the fetal position on the carpet. “I
want
to get away but I can't. Obviously, I'm not going to drop out of school.”

“Plus, you'll never be able to avoid going out, not as long as you're at Longbranch,” Kelly told me. “Look at your history. Duh.”

“I need a break!” I insisted. “I don't
want
my locker looking like the circus escaped. I think what I need is to just be alone for a while. Like this,” I said, my voice muffled.

“Well, you can stop dreaming now,” Becca said. “You'd need to escape to another country if you want to get away from guys.”

I heaved myself off the floor and grabbed my bag from the sofa. “I doubt my parents would let me relocate to France, so I don't
think that would work. I have to go. See you guys tomorrow.”

I let myself out of Becca's and thumped down the front steps. My feet carried me automatically through the wide, tree-lined streets and past the neat suburban houses. I barely felt the weight of my bag strap pressing on my shoulder as I turned Kelly's theory over in my mind. It
did
make sense—all the stuff in my locker, all the attention in gym class (little shorts aside), all the texts—but why were all these guys so obsessive? There were plenty of other single girls at school.

I turned onto my street and trudged up the winding walkway to our big gray Victorian. The overgrown yew bushes in the front mostly obscured the porch, but I stopped when I spotted a flash of red through the branches. There was someone on the porch. Mom and Dad weren't due home for another couple of hours. A Girl Scout? The neighbor looking for her cat again? I crept up to the steps and my heart sank. There were actually
two
someones on the porch.

“Hi, Kevin. Hi, Willy,” I said with as little inflection as I could. “Why are you guys stalking me?”

Kevin stood up from the porch swing. He'd changed out of his sweaty T-shirt from earlier and was now wearing a navy blue polo. His hair was wet, as if he'd just showered. “What's up, Val? I just thought I'd come by and, you know, apologize one more time for the whole gym class thing. But then this buttface shows up. I don't know what he's doing here.” He gestured to the opposite side of the porch, where Willy was perched on the railing like an elf, his arms wrapped around his updrawn knees.

“Hi, Val,” Willy whispered. He hopped down from the railing, blinking his eyes several times in succession. “I brought my laptop so we could IM.”