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SHOVING MY ARMS IN the sleeves of my warm-up suit, I arrange the fake medals lining my chest. All gold. I smirk at my reflection in the locker-room mirror. The junior class has been relegated to the Greek theme this year. So lame. At least it’s something easy. I haven’t had time to think of a costume, and this works on the fly.
Christy will love it.
“Look at the Golden Boy’s shiny medals!” Pete guffaws as he joins me. “Nice participation awards, Donovan.”
I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. It’s all I could come up with.” I squint at my friend. “What the hell are you supposed to be?”
Dressed in a pair of pajama pants, a velveteen robe, and slippers fit for Hugh Hefner, Pete spreads his arms wide. His sandy blond spikes bob as he laughs. “My mom is half Greek, bro. And I’m a god! Can’t you tell?”
I roll my eyes. Like the guy needs another ego on top of the one he sports daily. “If you say so.”
Pete howls loudly. “Parade starts in fifteen, Wolves! Let’s go!”
As we saunter toward the parking lot, the excitement of our classmates surrounds us. Warmth spreads through me. The school spirit is infectious. I’d like to think I have something do with that. Posters of all the athletes hang in the hallways, and a banner displays my record-breaking time with congratulations. This is my year to shine.
“Hey, ladies! Ever fuck a god? There’s enough of me to go around.”
The girls giggle as Pete kisses his flexed bicep. He gives me a snarky wink. Bridges isn’t shy, for sure. It’s worse when he wears his damn speedo for meets. Fifty bucks says he ends up with the senior superlative most likely to become a porn star.
The girls linger as we follow the hall toward the parking lot. A few of them giggle and touch my arm. Scowling, I dodge their advances. Jesus, it happens every day. It isn’t news that I have a girlfriend. Why do they paw at me like I’m some player? I’m definitely not Bridges.
“Lukey?”
Grumbling, the girls step away from me. I stifle a grin. Yeah, that’ll do it. I turn around—and my jaw drops. “Fuck...”
My beautiful girlfriend is decked out in a form-fitting costume dripping with aquamarine sequins. The dress flares mid-calf into a mermaid’s tail, accenting her long, gorgeous legs. Her Homecoming Court sash is draped across her shoulder like a prize, and a gold crown is perched upon her perfectly styled brown hair flowing in soft waves down her back.
A mermaid princess.
Pete whistles. “Damn, Mefford. They really let you wear that?”
Doing a little shimmy, Christy giggles. “Of course! It isn’t revealing. See?”
She plucks at the nude-colored mesh that covers her chest. But Pete is right. Clinging to her curves, the dress is provocative in every way.
My body responds, and I groan. Damn, she’s gone over and beyond my wildest dreams this time. No way I’m going to be able to keep control with her dressed like this. The teasing is killing me.
And she knows it.
I take her hands. “Wow, Chris.”
Wrapping her arms around my waist, she fingers the medals on my chest. “It’s all for you, baby. My Olympian god. I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah? Maybe it’s time you show me how much.”
With wide eyes, she looks up at me. “Seriously?”
Fuck, did I really just say that? I brush a thumb across her cheek and rasp, “Hell, yeah. I’m ready.” Flecks of gold glint in her hazel eyes, and I swallow. I am? Then why does it feel like I’m making a deal with the devil?
A short squeal erupts from her. She throws herself in my arms, pressing her curves against my semi. Holy hell.
“PDA, Mr. Donovan, Ms. Mefford.”
My cheeks flush as my mother passes by with the Vice-Principal. She gives me a wink. I brush a hand across my neck. “Sorry, Mom.”
Grabbing my arm, Christy tows me toward the parking lot. “Come on! We’re both on the Court. We can sit together in the back of the truck.”
“Hey, Chris. Can you take this to Hannah? For the freshman float. They have to place it in the left corner of their vehicle.”
Christy takes the small sticker from one of the senior dance squad members and sneers. “Ugh! Fine. I’ll be there in a minute, Luke.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Heya, Donovan! Got a sec?”
Jason Jones, one of my classmates, races up to me, and I wave Christy on. “Yeah, man. What’s up?”
“Can I borrow the study notes from AP English for yesterday? I had a cross-country meet.”
I nod. “I’ll email them to you tonight?”
Jason gives me a fist bump. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
Walking toward the back of the parking lot, I’m stopped a few more times with congratulations on my record, an invitation to a senior party, and a good luck winning Homecoming King. As I approach the freshman float, delegated to the last spot of the parade, I grin. It sucks being the low man on the totem pole.
Christy is standing in front of a brand-new Ford F-150. A girl I don’t recognize is hanging streamers from the cab. I stare at her. She’s got curves galore, and her hair is braided at the sides of her face in cute pigtails. I’ve never seen her before, have I?
As one of the freshman assholes mouths off, she turns around. A strange feeling sits in my stomach. Holy shit, is that Pen?
Irritation is plastered across her face as she pushes her black-framed glasses up her nose. She presses her knees together and descends the tailgate of the truck bed. Christy’s cousin says something. The guys laugh. Pitching a roll of streamers at Hannah’s head, Penny straightens the cute little skirt she’s wearing before sauntering away.
My heart skips in place. Jesus, no wonder I didn’t recognize her. It must be the apocalypse. Penny hasn’t worn a skirt since the fifth grade. All she wears are her brother’s sweatshirts and jeans.
As I hurry toward the group, Christy, conversing with Pen amicably, thanks her for helping out. Penny nods back. My jaw relaxes. I’m glad they’re getting along. Maybe Chris is right. I’ve been a little crazy about this hero stuff. At least the olive branch Christy’s extended to Pen seems to be working.
As I come up behind them, Penny gives me a sidelong glance and clears her throat. “That’s a great costume, Christy.”
The fancy sequined skirt swishes at Christy’s ankles, and she swivels her hips. Spreading her arms wide, she beams. “Thank you! I made it.”
Picking her up, I smack a loud kiss upon her cheek. “Ain’t my girl talented?”
Penny’s cheeks go pink. Refusing to meet my gaze, she takes a step away from me and sips the bottle of water in her hand.
Huh... that’s weird. Penny is shy, but she usually reserves it for people she doesn’t know. Not that I’m claiming to be an expert on her moods. She has so many, it’s hard to keep up.
Christy’s cousin stalks over with a roll of streamers in her hand. Her brow pinches. “Chris, can you help me fix these? They looked fine until some cow fucked it up.”
Rage hits me square in the face. So, Hannah Sparks is one of the mean girls? Big surprise there. Clenching my fists, I step in front of Penny and growl, “Shut your damn mouth, Sparks.”
Patting my arm, Christy murmurs, “Calm down, baby. I’ll take care of her, okay?”
As she approaches the tailgate, whispering in Hannah’s ear, I turn to Penny. She’s fidgeting with her skirt. She’s dressed like the rest of the freshman Homecoming committee, but her outfit stands out in more ways than one.
My pulse accelerates and I swallow hard as my breath seizes. Jesus, she’s really filled out since last year. In fact, Penny has more curves than most of the freshman class. By the bitchy stares the dance squad girls are giving her, it’s obvious they’re jealous.
A few of the petty freshman whisper behind her back, and I scowl at them. The name calling is ridiculous. Pen isn’t morbidly obese. Her beautiful hourglass figure accents more up top than most of her classmates—because she has tits. Not to mention a perfect ass...
She pulls on her skirt self-consciously. Crimson stains bleed across her cheeks as she traps her bottom lip between her teeth. She looks around, almost as if she’s waiting for someone to tear her down.
I frown. Jesus, she can’t see it, can she?
Penny Ramsay is fucking gorgeous.
As my body responds to that visual, an immediate red-light flashes before my eyes. Clenching and releasing my fists, I give myself a mental slap across the face. I can’t think of her like that. If Colt ever finds out I ogled his sister, I’ll be in a coma for a week.
Edging up next to her as if she’s a skittish colt, I nudge her. “How’s it going? I haven’t seen you much this week.” Penny scowls at me, and I chuckle. “Admit it, Sunshine. You’re having fun.”
Drawing her knees together, she crosses her arms over her chest. The movement only accentuates her cleavage. I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as my semi becomes a raging hard on. Thank God I’m wearing baggy pants.
My eyes roam south to her curvy ass. If only she could see what I do. Her cheeks pinken and her lips part as she catches me staring. Fuck, she’s killing me.
Widening the gap between us, she eyes me warily. “What?”
Damn, I’m making her uncomfortable. “Um, sorry. I haven’t seen you in a skirt since...” The day she found out about her dad. Shit, I’m not about to bring that up.
Shaking her head, she sighs. “I don’t get the point of all this.”
Glancing around at the excitement exuding from our classmates, I shrug. “School spirit? Come on, Pen. It isn’t that bad, is it? Colt will be happy to hear you’re getting involved.”
“I guess.”
As Christy returns, she links her arm with mine and looks at Penny. “Your outfit is... cute? Have you gotten your dress for the dance?”
Penny’s eyes narrow. “Oh! Er, I haven’t had time.”
“I don’t have practice tomorrow,” Christy says cheerfully. “We can go to Toni’s Boutique after school. My mom can take us.”
As dread filters across Penny’s face, I falter. Not that I understand what being poor feels like, but the Ramsays struggle more than most. I elbow Christy and shake my head once, hoping to relay that message. She nods in response.
Penny sniffs. “You don’t have to —.”
“We can go anywhere you want,” Christy bargains.
Draping an arm over Chris’ shoulder, I step forward, proud that she’s trying. “That’s an awesome idea. Let Chris help you, Pen. She has great taste in clothes.” And she does. I’ve told her a few times she should consider applying to fashion schools instead of colleges.
Penny wrings her hands in front of her. “Thanks, but I already have something in mind.”
Christy claps her hands and squeals. “Really? I’d love to see it! Since I set you up with Brandon, it’s the least I can do.” She winks at Penny. “He’s really looking forward to meeting you.”
Penny shuffles back a step. “I-I think my mother wants to go with me.”
That’s a new one. I give her a sidelong glance. She’s making excuses, for sure. What did I expect? She won’t come out of her shell all at once. I squeeze Christy’s shoulder. Best to leave her be.
Issuing Penny an encouraging smile, I change the subject. “That’s awesome, Pen. I’m still not sure about this Brandon guy.”
Stiffening against my side, Christy grips my hand, her nails biting into my palm. Pain shoots up to my elbow as she screeches, “O.M.G. it’s so sweet that you’re protective of her!”
With wide eyes, Penny shakes her head and takes another step back. “Um, not really.”
The hair on the back of my neck rankles. What the hell? After everything I’ve done for Penny, she still doesn’t appreciate any of it.
My gaze darts between Christy and Penny. Chris’ teeth are bared like a feral animal, and Pen gazes at her like she’s about to go unhinged. I frown. Holy crap, is Penny afraid of my girlfriend?
I can’t help but laugh. The mermaid princess? Really?
Grabbing Chris around the waist, I tickle her sides. As she bursts into giggles, I hoist her up and twirl her around. “You’re jealous? You’re so damn cute. I told you Pen needs us, remember? She’s our baby sister. We gotta protect her.”
“What?” A tinge of cherry red stretches across Penny’s face as her nostrils flare.
Placing Christy on her feet, I sweep a hand across my chest and cringe. Oh, shit. That didn’t come out right.
Christy pats her arm. “Don’t listen to him. Brandon’s a great guy. He’s perfect for you.”
Whew. Nice save by my girlfriend.
Now to make Christy feel less insecure...
Hugging her closer, I rub my nose against hers and hum. “Just like you are for me?”
Christy’s eyes brighten. “Exactly!” Our chaste kiss turns into a near make-out session as several on-lookers whistle.
I break away, breathless. “Damn...” If that’s a precursor of what’s to come, I’m in serious trouble.
Winking, she leads me toward the court float. “Come on, handsome. Let’s go.”
As basic thought returns, I glance around. The marching band is in place, and the cars and floats are starting to line up.
And Penny is nowhere to be seen
*****
This is the private journal of Penny Elaine Ramsay. Do not read!!
OCTOBER 27, 2007
Homecoming is the bane of my existence. Costumes, a dress for the dance, make-up... I don’t get it. Why do girls get into this crap? I’d much rather be home tonight watching movies or reading. But no. Like some performing monkey, I have to get dressed up and parade around just to make others happy.
My mother took me to get my dress. For once, she was sober and excited about helping me. It probably had more to do with the fact that she never thought I’d get a real date. I didn’t do it on my own. Does it still count?
We’ll see.
Six hours, and I’ll be free from Homecoming.