Rival Love (3 page)

“I warned you!”

Damn her! She has me on that point. I didn’t think she’d actually do it though. If she was five I would’ve thought differently but shit, she’s eighteen or about to turn it.

“Keep your mouth to yourself. For all I know you’ve got rabies.”

She snorts as she stands. “Newsflash, dumbass, I’m not foaming at the mouth. But don’t worry my teeth will never come near you again as long as you keep those groping ape hands away from me. Clear?”

“Let’s get this shit over with.” I march forward. Once I’m halfway to the doors, I glance back. She’s actually following. A permanent scowl is on her face, but I don’t really give a crap about that.

Opening the side door, I wait for her. I should slam it in her face, but I don’t. A part of me knows how much this must suck for her. The other part wants her to be so freaking miserable it isn’t funny. Especially, after she decided to go all dog and bite me. Crazy bitch.

I glance down at her schedule and make my way through the long hallway then up the flight of stairs labeled “C wing.” Up on the third floor, we walk down two more halls and I stop at room 310. “Here’s where your social psychology class is, hopefully you learn something in there.”

She curls her upper lip and mouths, “Hopefully you learn something.”

“Right. Moving on to your next class.”

We work our way over to the next flight of stairs and head down to the basement floor. Over in the E wing, at room 12, I chuckle. “And this is Italian IV.”
Of course
she’d take Italian for four years. So she’s one of those stuck-up, wannabe chicks who dreams of going abroad and sucking down wine all day. Dream on, girl, dream on.

“What’s so funny about taking Italian?”

I’m not answering her stupid question. If she wants to take the most pointless language on the planet, that’s her choice. With a schedule like hers I don’t know why she’s not taking Chinese or freaking Japanese.

She taps her foot. “Well?”

I shake my head. “When are you going to use it?”

“When I go to Italy with my dad next summer. Any more questions you want to ask me?”

I can see the challenge in her eyes. She wants me to mock her again so she can twist it around and make me look like a dipshit. I sort of feel like one, but it’s not enough to stop me from asking her, “Why don’t you live with him?”

She looks down at the tiled floor and sighs audibly. “He’s a professor in New York. He’s constantly working—lectures, papers, whatever.” She bites her lower lip and looks away.

“So you believe he’s too busy for you?”

Skylar shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. Can we
not
talk about my dad right now?” She stalks off and it makes me curious. What’s she hiding?

I could pry but then that would leave a door open for her to do the same. My own past is a closed door, and won’t be revisited any time soon. So instead of questioning her more, we continue down the hall in silence. Working my way to the B wing of the building, I zigzag us through different halls until we reach room 204. “Civics is here and two doors down is World Literature.” I can’t believe we’ve got these two classes together. I’m not about to tell her either, who knows what stupid shit she might pull next.

In silence, we make our way back to the basement area and into the commons. “This is the lunch area. Over there”—I point to the right, away from the large open space filled with round tables and chairs—“that’s the new gym. And over to the left behind that oval glass window is the pool. Of course you know that.”

She nods. “Yeah. What’s next?”

“Do you want to see the pool?”

“No.”

Moving along we walk up a flight of stairs and make our way to the B section again. “That’s the main office,” I say as we pass by it. I glance down at the yellow sheet of paper and shake my head. What a nerd. “AP Calculus 2 is right here,” I say, stopping outside the door marked 105.

We go to her last three classes—physics, weight training, and then the last one, journalism. This tour is officially over and it’s time to go home. We start to make our way through the commons again but piles of students start to pour into the school as if it was the first day.
Shit!
I shove Skylar down the small hall leading to the boys’ bathroom. She glares at me. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Shut up! Go in there.”

She shoots me a look like I’m insane. “Are you joking? I’m not going into the boys’ bathroom.”

I don’t care what she thinks she is or isn’t going to do, and push her into the room. Her eyes are wide. She takes a swing and lands a punch in the same side she bit me earlier. I groan but try to keep my attention on the noise outside the door.

Girls giggle and one of them shouts, “Where are you going, Derrick?”

“I’ve gotta take a leak. Be right back.”

Are you kidding me with this mess? My best friend will not see me with Skylar, not if I can do something about it. The door to the restroom starts to open. In a full-on panic, I shove Skylar into one of the empty stalls and dive in after. Locking the door behind us, I shift and face her. She opens her mouth. I silence her by doing the only thing I can think of doing to shut someone up—covering her mouth with my hand.

I peek through the small crack between the door and frame of the stall. Derrick is taking forever. Skylar, to my surprise, is actually keeping quiet. Her hot breath beats off my palm. It doesn’t bother me, but when her tongue rakes across my skin, I cringe.

“Goddamn it!” I yell as she purposely spits more saliva against my palm. I remove my hand and wipe it against my shorts. She’s smiling. I want to strangle her.

“Morgan? Is that you?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Damn her! “Yeah.”

Derrick pounds on the stall. “Dude. You all right?”

“Puking,” I lie. “I’m hungover.”

“Nice. You’ll feel like a champ once you get it all out. Want me to tell Coach?”

I glance down at my watch and shake my head. I’m supposed to be in the weight room in less than ten minutes. This situation can’t get much worse. Skylar narrows her eyes and pushes me against the door.

“Fine. Be out in a minute.” I glare at her. She tries to shove me again but I wrap my hands around hers. “Stop it,” I whisper through clenched teeth.

“All right. Later, bro.” A few seconds pass and I hear the bathroom door open then slam shut with the typical loud bang.

Skylar rolls her eyes at me. “I was trying to get you to go with him. I could have made it to your car undetected.”

“Then say it, don’t shove me.” Crazy freaking chick! I hope she doesn’t keep going through life thinking everyone’s a mind reader.

“Right, because you haven’t been doing that to me all day long. I guess those rules only apply to you. Thanks, you abusive jerk.”

I open the door to the stall and growl. “I’m not abusive. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Chapter 5

Skylar

When Caleb drops me off at Brian’s he says two words: “Later, nerd.” If I have to put up with him for one more day, let alone a whole school year, I will just die! He’s beyond annoying, and he’s got absolutely no gentleman-like manners. Stupid ape!

I slam the front door as soon as I enter the house. My mother walks out of the kitchen and asks, “How was it?”

“Let’s see…when Monday rolls around and I’m brutally murdered in one of the halls marked A through E you’ll be happy to know you can easily locate and pick up my discarded remains. Oh, and thanks to Caleb, I now know what the inside of the boys’ restroom looks like.” I wink and head upstairs to my temporary room, which was formerly Brian's spare room.

Crashing against my thick black comforter I let all the morning events sink in. Monday is going to be here before I know it. If my mother isn’t going to take this serious, then it’s time to start thinking about a plan B. I’m a Bulldog on enemy lines, after all. What better way to start off the school year than to pull off the biggest and greatest prank either school’s ever seen?

Hmmm…last year, a group of overly school-spirited kids torched our mascot’s bulldog face into Delmont High’s soccer field followed with “We own you!” Of course, then later in the year our pool was vandalized with gold dye. Yeah, the water looked like pee, and a banner hung on our back wall that said: “Tag! We just marked our territory! Enjoy your swim, losers!” Okay, I admit that was pretty clever and amusing.

I chew on my lower lip. Do I want to get caught? If I were expelled for damaging school property it would totally destroy Mom’s stupid living arrangement. But it would totally screw my chances of getting into Duke University, my absolute dream college. Yes, I have a free ride to my dad’s college, but I don’t want to take it. Taking that means I forgive him for totally ditching me. And, yes, I talk to him and see him, but I still can’t forgive him all the way. Plus, I want to earn my way into college. I certainly didn’t spend three years studying, getting straight A’s, and taking extra AP courses to ruin my chances of getting into Duke over some prank. My life is kind of on the line, though. Come Monday, I’m going to be Delmont High’s official punching bag. Under no circumstances will I become a Bobcat.

The hours tick away. A well-detailed plan of the school lies across my floor. Stacked, unopened boxes from the small U-Haul help hold down the corners of the map. Tapping a pencil against the paper, I sigh. What kind of prank would be history worthy?

I hear the front door slam shut. A set of footsteps pounds up the stairs and passes my room. My heart pounds like crazy, while nervous pent-up energy fills me. Quickly I snatch the comforter off my bed and toss it over the large map on the floor. “Gotta grab something,” Caleb calls out.

“Hey man, can’t we chill here?” some deep male voice shouts up.

Tap-tap-tap outside the room sets my nerves on edge. I wipe my forehead with the sleeve of my shirt and watch my door spring open. “Hey. Um. My friend Derrick is downstairs. Could you…I don’t know, stay up here?” I should nod so he leaves. “Skylar?”

I blink. “What? Yeah. Sure.”

Caleb narrows his eyes. “So…you’re cool not leaving the room?”

“Yeah. Fine. Not leaving the room. Go away.”

“Caleb! Liv! It’s dinner time!” my mother hollers.

Caleb’s eyes widen and he smacks his forehead using his hand. “New plan. Run into the dining room when I say ‘blasted’ and stay there…”

I scowl at him. “I’m
not
doing that.” Pushing past him, I bend over a suitcase near the closet. After about five seconds of sifting through the items in there, I pull out my favorite Denver Broncos sun visor. I pull it down over my loose dark curls and pull it back up to my forehead, so it covers my eyes while my hair hides everything else.

Caleb latches onto my wrist as I head out of my room. “Wait. I don’t…I think my plan is better.”

“Liv! Caleb! Come on, kids. I don’t want dinner to get cold,” my mother calls out.

I shrug. “You’ll have to take that chance because if one of us doesn’t descend those steps, she’ll come up here and drag us both down there. And she’ll yell my full name while escorting us to the kitchen and then our little secret will be out.” He lets go and we head down the staircase. I enter the dining room with Caleb following and my mother glances up at us. Brian is already seated at one end, an extra place setting on his right. “What took you two so long? Caleb, I hope you don’t mind, but I told your friend that he could join us.”

“I’m not passing up food that smells this amazing,” Caleb’s friend says.

Caleb’s arm brushes against mine, sending off waves of nervous butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I feel as if I’m on a roller coaster standing next to him.

Keeping my eyes low, I take a seat at the table. “Liv, why are you wearing that beat-up, dirty hat at the dinner table?”

I feel a slight nudge to my ribs and I blurt out the first excuse that comes to me. “I’ve got a massive zit by my eyebrow. It’s beyond disgusting. Looking at it will make people revolt against this lovely…chicken dish.”

My mother takes the seat on the other side of me. “It’s chicken Marsala.” I wrinkle my nose. Mushrooms are so disgusting. My mother proceeds to announce her sentiments for my fake problem. “Don’t worry honey, I’ve got a cure to get rid of those things. You’ll be zit-free by Monday.”

Caleb busts out in a fit of laughter. His friend is laughing too and my mother is trying to console me with unnecessary apologies. I kick Caleb underneath the table and he grumbles, “Ouch.”

Good. I hope he’s still sore from the other shots I took at him today.

“So Derrick, are you excited about the upcoming football season?” Brian asks.

“Oh yeah,” he answers as I sneak a peek at our guest. He looks away from Brian and over at me. I drop my head and mentally curse myself for being so careless.
Enemy.
We’re all enemies. Duh!

“Liv, is it? What’s that short for?” Derrick asks.

Wow, this is the kind of person Caleb hangs out with? No wonder he’s such an ape. “Olivia,” I answer without making any kind of eye contact with him.

“Do you play any sports?”

I’m about to answer but my mother already beats me to the punch. “Oh, Liv is a wonderful swimmer. She actually set records at state and I’m so proud of her. Some people think she’s a naturally gifted girl, but really, she works so hard. Year-round she’s swimming or playing softball.” My mother is about to ramble some more info that no one at this table needs to know so I must interrupt her. “Mom!”

“Sorry, Liv gets a little embarrassed when I smother her with praise.”

A burn settles on my cheeks. I can feel people staring at me. Caleb’s elbow brushes against my arm. Tiny pinpricks of goose bumps form all over my body. “Well, I think the swim team will be excited about getting you,” Derrick says.

“I highly doubt that,” I mumble.

Caleb snorts loudly. “Sorry.”

Once the nightmare dinner is over, I clear away the dishes and offer to wash them. This will keep me away from the Bobcats and my mother. Turning on the faucet to a hotter-than-warm setting I squirt some dish soap into the water. Bubbles form instantly, and before I know it, take over one side of the two-basin sink. I begin easing the dishes into the soapy water and wash them one by one. I set them down in the empty side and let the warm water run all over them.