The Queen B* Strikes Back (13 page)

That is, until Summer grabbed Brett’s arm and pulled his attention away from me. What I wouldn’t give to hear what she was saying to him, but her words seemed pressured and anxious. Brett replied with an easy laugh, and her panic eased and she slid into a flirtatious conversation.

I wish I could say his response had the same effect on me. Instead, it had just the opposite. I went from thinking he was all mine to being reminded that Summer still had him in her clutches.

“See?” I said to Richard, nodding to them while I put my jacket back on to cover up his number. “He and Summer are still an item.”

“Fifty bucks says you’ll be wearing his letterman’s jacket by the end of the semester.”

“You are so full of it.” But I couldn’t deny the secret fantasy that he could be right.

The coach blew a whistle, and Brett waved Summer off, but before joining the huddle, he gave me one more grin.

My stomach knotted from uncertainty…or maybe indigestion. Why did boys have to be so friggin’ confusing?

The game was intense. The lead changed with just about every drive. But just as Mr. Pederson predicted, Brett broke the state record with eleven seconds remaining in the second quarter.

The flashes from the cameras blinded me and turned the night into day. Brett truly was the Golden Boy of the hour, but he appeared too focused on the game and getting one more score in before halftime. The next pass sailed into Sanchez’s arms in the end zone, and Eastline went into the locker room with a two-point lead. Brett trotted off with the rest of the team, ignoring the reporters who wanted to talk about his new record. The spotlight was on him, and yet he cared more about winning the game than getting on the front page of the newspaper or grabbing his ten seconds of fame.

But then, that was the kind of guy Brett was.

The momentum changed in the second half, and Eastline demolished their opponent. One more win for Brett. One more reason for every college in the nation to take notice of him. And one more accomplishment that made me wonder if the boy had any flaws.

Except, of course, for his terrible essay writing skills.

The reporters surrounded him on the field as soon as the clock ticked down to zero, and I lost sight of him.

Richard nudged me. “Great game, right?”

“Yeah,” I replied absentmindedly. I was too busy looking for Summer to see if she would claim her spot at his side like she had after the previous games. But even she couldn’t get past the wall of reporters around him.

Probably a good thing. The last thing I wanted to see was her smirk in the background of any pictures taken of Brett.

“What’s the plan from here?” Richard asked.

“I’m hanging out for a bit and waiting for traffic to die down before trying to leave.” And maybe waiting to see if I could personally congratulate Brett once the hoopla died down. “Maybe we can grab a bite to eat before he drives home.”

Ten minutes passed before Brett’s coach rescued him from the reporters and escorted him back to the locker room. The cheerleaders were gathering up their gear, and I toyed with the idea of offering Taylor a ride home, only to think better of it. She’d probably accuse me of destroying her reputation.

My phone beeped, and I checked the message.

It was from Brett. Somehow, he’d managed to text me while answering the reporters.

Meet me by the team bus in a few
.

I showed the message to Richard, who danced with excitement. “Oh my God, this is so cool.”

“Maybe. He could just want his shirt back.”

“Stop being so negative.”

“I prefer realistic.” Although some secret part of me shared his giddiness, it had nothing to do with the football game. “Come along with me.”

“But what if he wants a little
alone
time with you?” Richard wagged his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

I climbed down the bleachers, not bothering to look back to see if he was following me. “I have no desire to cuddle with a sweaty, stinky football player.”

“But if he was fresh from the shower and practically naked?”

A rebellious jolt raced through me, and I paused for a half second. I’d seen him half naked after a shower a few weeks ago, and it was nice. Very nice.

I came back to my senses, though, and cautioned myself not to let my hormones get the better of me again. “If you want a ride home, stay close.”

We waited for another ten minutes before Brett snuck out of the locker room like a cat burglar not wanting to get caught. His face brightened when he saw me, but he did a double take when he spotted Richard. “Oh, hi.”

“Richard rode with me,” I explained before he asked about my friend’s presence.

“Cool.” Brett ran his hand over his damp hair. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, yet looked every bit as hot as he did when he was shirtless. “Um, there’s a party later tonight at Ren’s once we get back home, and I wondered if you’d like to come.”

My brain exploded from the overload. Things were progressing way too fast, way too soon. It was one thing for me to wear his shirt in public, but to join him at one of the in-crowd’s parties? “Does Ren know you’re inviting me?”

“Why should it matter?” he asked with the nonchalant shrug of someone who’s never been on the outside of the in-crowd.

“Do you realize how many people who’ll be there I’ve outed on my blog, including the host?” Ren had been one of the many guys I’d called out for cheating on their girlfriends.

“So?”

I opened my mouth to voice the doubts screaming in my mind, but Richard clapped his hand over it before I could speak.

“We’d love to come, Brett. Isn’t that right, Alexis?”

If I could shoot lasers out of my eyes, Richard would be my first victim.

Brett gave us a smile of relief tempered by a hint of nervousness. “Great. I’ll text you the address. The party will be probably start in an hour or two, depending on how long it takes us to get back to campus,” he said before disappearing onto the bus.

I smacked Richard’s hand away. “What was that?”

“That was me interceding on your behalf before you screw up your chances with Mr. Hottie. You can thank me later.”

He started off toward the street, forcing me to chase after him.

“Then why do I have a bad feeling about the party?” I asked.

“Lighten up. Do you realize how many people would kill to be in your shoes right now? You just got invited to a popular kids’ party.”

“But what if it’s a trap? I mean, you’ve seen those movies before.
Never Been Kissed. Clueless. Carrie
. What if they’re waiting for me to arrive so they can dump a gallon of pig’s blood on me?”

Richard halted and rolled his eyes. “First off, I can’t believe you’re admitting to watching some of those movies. Second, you are far scarier than Carrie, and if they prank you, then you’re going to get your revenge. You may not be setting them on fire, but everyone there knows they’re dealing with the Queen B.”

“Come with me.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He looped his arm through mine and dragged me along. “But first, since we have a few hours to kill, let’s grab a bite to eat and come up with a strategy on how to make your grand entrance.”

I texted my mom to let her know I’d be out late tonight and listened as Richard planned the rest of our evening.

Chapter Eleven

I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that greasy burger and fries. They churned in my stomach like some nauseating geyser that threatened to spew forth at any second. The sensation doubled as I parked my car near Ren’s house.

Richard, on the other hand, bounced out like a child who’d just arrived at Disneyland for the first time. He practically quivered as he said, “Oh my God, I’m so excited.”

I wish I felt the same way. The only thing that eased my trepidation was the solitary figure waiting for us in the front yard.

Brett approached us, but stopped a few feet away and cast a sideways glance at Richard. “Glad you two could make it.”

“Trust me—you have no idea how glad we are to be here,” Richard replied.

He bolted for the front door, but Brett lingered beside me and reached for my hand. “You don’t look so excited.”

“I’m just…” I searched for the right word—one that wouldn’t reveal my fears or hesitations or even my secret delight, before settling on—“worried.”

“Don’t be.” He threaded his fingers through mine. “You’re with me.”

“And what if they all turn on you because of this?”

He laughed it off. “My friends aren’t perfect, but they’re my friends. And once they see you the way I see you, then everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

I followed him up the walkway, each step reminding me that I had no business being there. The surprised stares on everyone’s faces when we went inside only confirmed my misgivings.

“Hel-
lo
,” Richard announced with an extra dose of flamboyancy at the doorway. “The party has just arrived.”

Brett choked back a grin as Richard made his way through the room, fully engrossed in his role as the Token Gay Guy. I knew it was all an act, but it was how Richard eased people’s nerves. By pretending to be the outrageous life of the party, he shifted some of the focus away from the real him and made it easier for our classmates to accept him as the stereotype.

I, unfortunately, couldn’t pull that off. I was the Mean Girl, the one who got her jollies by making the in-crowd cower. And I was standing in the doorway, holding hands with one of their own.

I jerked my hand free and stepped aside so Brett could close the door.

“Well, I’m not worried about Richard anymore,” he murmured.

“Why were you worried to begin with? Scared he’d hurt your rep?”

“No, more like worried a couple of guys would try to ambush him and give him a wedgie or a black eye as a greeting and I’d have to intervene.”

Once again, Brett surprised me. I should be getting used to it by now, and yet, I still hadn’t. “You would defend him?”

“Of course.” He took my arm and led me further into the house. “Let’s get you something to drink.”

The house was overflowing with teenagers, and music blasted through the speakers. The faint scent of weed drifted in the air. The amount of alcohol in their hands confirmed everything I’d heard about these parties. Beer. Wine. Red plastic cups with who knows what in them. The party was still in the early stages, though, so no one appeared slobbering drunk—yet. Our classmates followed us with their gazes as we passed, but no one said anything to us.

When we made it to the kitchen, Brett opened up a large cooler full of ice and grabbed a soda. “What do you want?”

“You mean you’re not cracking open a beer to fit in?”

“I don’t drink.”

A wave of guilt washed over me for the time I offered him Chardonnay at my house. I’d assumed that he was like his peers, but he was so squeaky clean, I wondered if he was real. “Why not?”

“Not worth the consequences. Getting arrested aside, I don’t like being off focus and out of control. It’s just not me.” He gestured to the cooler. “But if you want one…”

“No, a soda would be fine.”

He grabbed another can and jerked his head toward the backyard. “Let’s find some place where we don’t have to shout over the music.”

The pot aroma was even stronger outside, and the faint glow of a lit joint being passed around reminded me of a firefly. As soon as the smokers saw me, though, the person holding it hid it behind his back.

Brett pulled me off to the side. “Just ignore them.”

“I’m trying, but you have to admit, I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, you do.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and leveled his gaze with mine. “You’re with me, and that’s all that matters.”

A repeat of the whole tunnel-vision, world-fading away thing enveloped me, and for a brief second, I believed him. I took a step forward, closing the space between us, so tempted to see if he would act the same way in front of his friends as he did when we were alone.

He didn’t back away. No, he ran his hand along my arm until he reached my waist and pulled me closer. Anyone watching us could see that we were more than just study partners. I braced for the terror, the outrage, the
What the hell are you thinking?
that would come from it, but no one said anything.

“See?” Brett asked as though he’d read my mind. “No one cares.”

“That’s because they’re either drunk or high.”

“I’m finding you’re the hardest one to convince.” He leaned closer, his lips inches from mine.

I couldn’t tell if the fluttering sensation in my midsection was from my heart or the butterflies in my stomach. My pride might’ve been safe, but my heart was an entirely different matter. I held my breath, wondering if he would kiss me again.

Instead, I ended up stumbling to the side when someone jostled me from behind.

The familiar sound of my sister giggling snapped me out of my daze, and I looked past Brett to see her straddling some guy’s lap on a deck chair. I couldn’t tell who it was, but it didn’t matter. The moment I witnessed his hand pulling her underwear below her ridiculously short skirt, I lost it.