“We figured a pacifier was just what you needed, Parker,” Chrissandra asserted, her eyes still gleaming. “Seeing as how you're dating a baby.”
The world spun before me, like in those first few moments of a Google Earth search. From somewhere— the West Indies or New Zealand or hell—came a chorus of laughter.
And while I told myself that this was all an act— Chrissandra had warned me that they'd be coming off as bitches—I also knew the game had changed a lot since that phone conversation. I'd been caught with a freshman. And that was the ultimate deal breaker.
“No,” I said emphatically, “I don't like him like that.”
“Like what?” Chrissandra said. “Clothed?”
The girls laughed.
“Oooh, Parker!” Elaine cried “You need ice for that burn!”
I ignored them, keeping my gaze on our fair leader. “It's not what you think.”
“Oh?” she said, arching a brow, an expression I knew meant that her opponent was about to become toast. “So tell me, mind reader. What do I think?”
Crap! Chrissandra 3, Parker o. Experience told me this was going to be a total blowout. All I could do was keep my cool—and some moisture in my mouth. If I'd learned anything these past couple of weeks, it was that ultimately, I would survive. Maybe not in a fantabulous way, but I knew I could at least stay on my feet.
Chrissandra's face took on a triumphant look, one she shared with the group. “You don't know what I'm thinking, do you? How could you? You're like a froshie again yourself: playing on JV, dating one.”
“Yeah,” Mandy said, “it's like they're going to have to take you out of the yearbook.”
“Cut her out,” Chrissandra corrected. “Of the last two yearbooks. And put her picture in this year's freshman pages.”
“Uh, yeah,” Mandy said, clearly remembering the script now. “It's like you never existed.”
Again, titters and giggles.
“I'll spell out exactly what I am thinking,” Chrissandra said, hand on hip. “I saw you with that boy. I know what you were doing out at the lake with him because I was there to do the same thing with Kyle.”
This was bad. Superbad. Killer bad. So bad that bad needed a new name.
For lack of a response, I plucked the pacifier from my locker and balled it in my hand. Denial, at this point, was a waste of my breath. I could go with the driving-lessons thing, but it suddenly seemed so lame, I wasn't even sure I could say it with a straight face. My only out was the truth, the kissing- booth plan, but how could I admit to moving ahead on something that only worked if one of the varsity players—maybe one of them—got thrown off the team?
Of course, the way I was feeling, I hardly cared if they all got their butts kicked off.
I was lost in Loserville. If I couldn't deny it, and I couldn't fess up, what was left? Tears? Begging for forgiveness? Accepting banishment? Or … how about wowing Chrissandra with an imitation of her idol, Juliet Capulet; doing some dramatic oration in iambic pentameter, one that probably amounted to absolutely nothing but sounded so good you couldn't help listening? In other words, coming back at her with some really elaborate BS.
And then it struck me, as bald- faced as one of Tristan's kisses: Romeo and Juliet. That was it. The only way out of this was to be tragic. It was a big gamble but worth a shot.
I inhaled for strength, then glanced down, willing tears to fill my eyes. “Okay—you've got me. It's one of those things,” I managed, keeping my head averted. “I know it's wrong, but it just feels right. I know, I'm two grades ahead of him, and I'm smarter and I'm more popular. Plus, I have way cooler friends,” I threw in for good measure. “And can you believe our dads are in a total feud that's practically coming down to crossed swords in the street?”
I glanced up, right at Chrissandra. “But he is only a year younger, and he's totally buff, and he's got these awesome dark blue eyes.” (If you were into dark blue eyes.) “And, you know, you just can't control what the heart wants. So yeah, go ahead and make fun of me if you want. But it'll never change the fact that I'm head over heels in love with Tristan Murphy.”
Did I really just say that?
I held Chrissandra's gaze. My blood thrummed in my ears. Time stood still.
“Omigod, Park,” she finally said, her voice cracking. “That is so Leonardo and Claire.” She took a couple of steps toward me and threw her arms around my neck.
I returned the hug, feeling both triumphant and superiorly manipulative.
“I am so happy for you,” she gushed, then pulled back and brushed some of my hair from my cheek. “I mean, Kyle and I are good, and Elaine had that hot thing going with what's- his- name last year, but you're the first of our group to find her soul mate, the guy she'd live and die for.”
Elaine, Mandy and the other two girls took the cue and moved in for a group hug, which was so cute and sweet that it made my teeth hurt. But hey, you didn't see me complaining. Sure, I had the trial now of a supposed boyfriend of the inferior class, who I did not want, but much more important, I was winning the war.
“It's like it was written in the stars,” Chrissandra went on. “I'll bet Tristan was the reason you didn't make varsity to begin with, so you could fit completely into his life.”
My jaw (and my hopes) dropped. “No! I didn't make varsity because of Rachael and that new girl. He—he came later. I was, uh, teaching him how to drive,” I said, nonsensical, desperate words tumbling out of my mouth, “and it just happened.”
Chrissandra narrowed her eyes. “You mean to tell me, after meeting your other half, you don't believe in destiny?”
I ran my gaze from face to face, although I knew it was no use soliciting the help of the crowd. No one would side against their queen bee.
“Of course I believe in destiny,” I managed. “But—”
“No buts,” she said, letting me know I'd effectively nailed my own coffin shut. “We're absolutely thrilled for you, Parker.” She threw a look at Elaine.
“Jealous, even.” Elaine added. “In a weird way.”
Chrissandra nodded. I could almost count the beats until Mandy said something in agreement.
“Yeah,” Mandy said.
The other two parrots nodded.
“But your romance with this froshie,” Chrissandra said, taking the reins again, “just tells us you're where you need to be. I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends. I'll bet the frosh and soph girls will totally look up to you. You'll probably even be named team captain. This time.”
Okay, that was below the belt. Meaner than mean and uncalled- for. Someone had mentioned me for JV captain last year, but, of course, Hartley had given the honor to Chrissandra. Why bring that up? And how could she even remember something like that at a time like this?
But, the thing was, I was fighting for my life here. “Look, I can't control what Hartley did. But I'll tell you, I'd much rather be with you guys than the JV girls—and if it means quitting soccer altogether, well, then I'll do that.”
The girls drew spontaneous gasps, while a slow smile crept over Chrissandra's face. She'd heard this threat from me in our “secret” conversation, although she couldn't admit it.
“Your call, Parker,” she said. “Whatever you want. But I don't even see why we're discussing this. You've got the love of your life now—what else do you need?”
She turned away, and her subordinates followed. Leaving me feeling stripped naked and vulnerable. And losing-a-game-by-one-goal furious.
Part of me wanted to chase after them and tell them all where to shove it. I hated them! How dared they reject me, or decide what was best for me?
But then something was telling me that there was more going on than met the eye and that if—no, when we worked this whole thing out, we'd all be better friends for it.
I had to stand tall. Firm. Silent. This was not over. It was just another detour on the road back to Happily Ever After. Because the Plan was still in place. And it would work. It would! But right now, I needed to get over to the cafeteria and get some carbs and protein in me so I didn't pass out at practice later.
Oh, and last but not least? I had to chase down Tristan and let him know we were madly, passionately and tragically in love.