Style

  “Hey, Star,” Dad said as I dropped the bags in the kitchen and gave him a quick hug, then he started helping me put everything away.

  “How was work?” he asked, putting the cereal box on the wrong shelf. He didn’t appreciate my organizational skills, but that was fine. I’d arrange them correctly later.

  I filled him in on my day and asked how his had been.

  “Good, good. I assigned Hamlet today so we’ll see how that goes.” He rolled his eyes and I laughed. He was an English professor at the local community college and needless to say, a lot of the students in his classes weren’t exactly fans of literature. They were forced to take English and liked to punish my dad when he tried to teach them something.

  “Sweets to the sweet,” I quoted, handing him a bag of apples. I’d grown up with him testing me on literature by quoting passages and asking me what book they were from. Sometimes he’d reward me with Hershey’s Kisses.

  “To thine own self be true,” he said, pointing at me. I rolled my eyes.

  “I’ll get right on that.”

  After we put the groceries away, dad started making dinner and I went to do my homework in the den. This was one of those times when I was happy that it was just the two of us. My mom had left us when I was a toddler, and my older brother Gabe was off at Columbia studying journalism. I missed him like crazy, but we talked at least a few times a week and he texted Dad nearly every day.

  I worked steadily, hitting my least favorite subjects first and leaving my English reading for last. Dad was still pissed that I hadn’t signed up for AP English, and I didn’t think he was going to let it go anytime soon.

  “Are you coming to the game?” I asked as I twirled spaghetti on my fork.

  “I’m going to try. I have exams to grade, but I’ll do my best.” He always did. Sometimes he made it to see me cheer and sometimes he didn’t, but he tried. He always tried and that was what mattered.

  “Have you thought any more about signing up for AP English?” he said and I sighed. I knew it.

  “No. I just think that it’s not worth it. They don’t weigh AP classes, so I can get a perfect grade in regular English. Or I can take AP and have my GPA potentially take a dip. I don’t want to do that.” Now he was the one to sigh and I was treated to another lecture on the fact that I could gain college credit for taking and doing well on the AP test and blah, blah, blah.

  He put down his fork and gave me a long look. Fortunately, I’d gotten most of my looks from him including hair color, eye color and shape, and our mouths did the same thing when we were trying not to smile.

  “What if I told you I would give you some money so you could trade in your car and get a nicer one.” Shit. He’d picked the one thing that I would go for. My car wasn’t exactly a piece of crap, but it wasn’t really nice either.

  I glared at him and he narrowed his eyes and glared back.

  “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll sign up for AP English.”

  We watched TV together; we always liked the same shows, and then I headed to my room. I worked through my nightly stretches and then got in bed.

  The lights were off, but I closed my eyes. This was the only time I let myself think about it. About how when I thought about kissing, it wasn’t a boy I imagined. It was a girl. All sweet curves and soft lips. Sometimes her hair was long, and got in my way, sometimes it was short, the blunt ends tickling my fingers. We’d twist around each other until it was impossible to tell us apart.

  The desire rushed through me and I welcomed it. I hadn’t, at first. It had always been followed by shame. By guilt. Why was I thinking about girls that way? I’d been twelve and most of my friends were swooning over the boys, but I couldn’t seem to feel that way. I tried. I tried so hard. I put posters of boy bands in my room and danced with them and tried to flirt with them, but it was just . . . wrong. I didn’t like it.

  I dated boys here and there, but never went further than that. They would try and I would slam a door in their face. Eventually they lost interest and moved on. I’d given up on that charade a while ago. I was who I was and no boy was going to change that.

  I couldn’t imagine telling my father and my brother, at least not yet. I would have to someday, obviously, when I got into a relationship. They weren’t homophobic, or at least they had never said anything overt, but I didn’t want to test them either. Things were fine right now and soon I’d be off to college and I could go all in with whomever I wanted. I’d set that goal for myself and I was going to stick to it.

  The last thought I had before I fell asleep was of kissing a set of sweet pink lips.

  I was distracted the next day and I wanted to pretend I didn’t know why I was distracted but I totally did.

  “What is wrong with you today?” Grace asked when I nearly knocked her can of soda off the table at lunch.

  “Sorry. Just . . . thinking about stuff.” I didn’t sound convincing at all. Even to myself.

  “Okayyyyy,” Grace said, drawing the word out. “You’ve been weird all day. What’s up?” I gave her a look.

  “Really? Whenever you have an off day and I ask you what’s wrong, you lie to me and now you expect me to talk to you?” She scowled.

  “Ugh, whatever. Just be all weird and grumpy. See if I care.” She turned away from me to talk to Molly about something.

  I tapped her on the shoulder a few minutes later.

  “What?” she snapped. You couldn’t be sensitive and also be friends with Grace. She could be prickly, but she still had my back and if I needed to hide a body, she would be the one I would call.

  “Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind. I had this . . . crazy dream last night and it’s been throwing me off all day.” So that wasn’t a huge lie. I had had a dream last night. The kind of dream that left me waking up gasping and turned on. I could feel my face getting red as I told her. Thankfully, Grace couldn’t read minds.

  I looked away from her and it was like my eyes were drawn to Stella’s table. She was there, sitting and laughing with her friends. Her hair was down in curls and she tossed them over her shoulder. Like she was in a fucking shampoo commercial. I felt my face get redder and told myself to stop looking at her. Not only was she a total bitch, she was also a girl.

  I shouldn’t be getting turned on by a girl. I was straight. I’d had crushes on boys plenty of times. Had even dated a few, but decided that there was no point until I got to college. It was a waste of time that I could better use for studying. Besides, my parents had been super strict about it, so it wasn’t worth it.

  I didn’t like girls. I was just . . . whatever.

  Grace snapped her fingers in front of my face.

  “Are you there?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.” I kept saying the same thing over and over again and Grace was definitely suspicious.

  “Uh huh,” she said and I knew she wasn’t going to drop it, but the bell rang and we had to go. I kept my head down when I walked by Stella’s table and was so focused on not looking at her that I smashed right into someone.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” I said, looking up into a set of crystal blue eyes. They narrowed before she rolled them back in her head and flounced off as I gaped after her.

  “Who peed in her Cheerios?” Grace said as Stella flounced away. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  “Don’t know,” I said, shaking my head and starting to walk again, paying more attention to where I was going.

  “She’s such a bitch,” Grace said, winding her arm with mine.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  The rest of the week was similarly weird. It was like Stella kept getting tossed in my path. Or maybe I just had never noticed her as much. Hell, I was noticing her now. I hated how much I was noticing.

  How thick and long her eyelashes were. How her hair fell over her shoulder. How delicate and small her hands were. How her voice had a husky, smoky undertone that was . . .

  No. I wasn’t noticing things about Stella Davi
s.

  Finally, it was Friday and time for the weekend. I could hang out with Grace and the rest of my friends and not notice Stella Davis for two whole days.

  I had not counted on the fact that, of course, Stella would be at the football game. She was captain of the cheerleading squad for fuck’s sake. She’d be front and center the whole time. It was going to be even more of a chore not to look at her. I was totally up to the challenge, though. I’d spent the last three years ignoring her (for the most part). How hard could it be?

  “What are you staring at?” Grace said, nudging my shoulder.

  “Hm?” I said, turning to face her. I had not been staring at Stella’s ponytail. At all.

  “Um, I’m watching the game?” I said, wrapping my arms around myself. It was cold tonight and my ass was already numb on the hard metal bleachers. Grace lifted one edge of her blanket and I scooted closer and we snuggled together.

  “You know, we should get one of those family-sized Snuggies,” she said as we huddled closer to the rest of our friends.

  “That isn’t a terrible idea,” Paige said. Tommy made a grunting noise on the other side of her. He was too busy watching the game to chat.

  “Unpopular opinion time,” I said, but only loud enough for Grace to hear. The ref blew a whistle on the field and all the players jogged back to their benches for a time out.

  “Yeah?” Grace said, watching the huddle.

  “I’m not a fan of football,” I said. “Shhh, don’t tell anyone.” I put my finger to my lips and she rolled her eyes.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” I went to say something else, but she shushed me. Grace did like football, which was one of the other reasons I came to these things. She got all riled up and it was really funny. More often than not, I watched her instead of the game.

  Tonight was different. Tonight I was extremely distracted by a certain cheerleader with blonde hair. It was so cold that instead of wearing the skirts they usually wore during basketball season, they had pants on, but those didn’t leave much to the imagination either.

  God, what the fuck was wrong with me? I looked around to make sure no one had seen me staring and felt my face get hot. Of course no one was paying attention to me, which was a good thing.

  How was it possible that you could be in school with someone for nearly four years and then BAM, you can’t stop thinking about them or staring at them or wondering about them . . .

  It couldn’t be due to Stella’s awesome personality. She was generally acknowledged to be not very nice. Not that she did anything overtly mean, but she just gave off that “I’m better than you” vibe and walked around like she owned the world.

  I shook my head at myself. I wasn’t going to think about Stella’s personality. It was irrelevant. I forced my eyes back on the players on the field. I had no idea how anyone could tell them apart with all that gear on Sure, they had their names and numbers on their backs, but still.

  Of course, the minute I decided to actually pay attention to the game, it was halftime. The band played first, walking in unison over the field, making a few different formations. We all cheered for our friends and then it was time for the cheerleaders to perform.

  Great.

  “Wanna get some popcorn?” I said in a strangled voice, grabbing Grace’s arm.

  “Yeah, sure. You okay?” I nodded jerkily.

  “Yeah, just hungry and cold.” I didn’t let myself watch as they started their cheer and got the crowd to yell back at them. Nope. I kept my back turned and stood in line at the concession stand with Grace.

  I was so focused on not paying attention to what was happening on the field that after we got our snacks loaded up in our arms, I nearly ran right into Stella.

  “Sorry,” I said and she just gave me another look. Like I’d done it on purpose.

  “What is your problem?” Grace said. She’d been next to me and had seen the whole thing. Fortunately, only a few kernels of popcorn spilled and I had managed to keep my balance. I wasn’t normally this bad at bumping into people. It felt like someone was playing a joke on me.

  Stella glared at us both for a second. Her makeup was perfectly in place, despite the fact that she’d been cheering for half of the game. But that was normal. She always looked perfect. Even when she was glaring.

  “Nothing. I just don’t like people getting in my way,” she said and then crossed her arms. I kept my eyes on her face, but I could feel my face getting red.

  “Well maybe you should watch where you’re going and then it won’t happen,” Grace snapped, shifting the food so she could take my arm to lead me back in the direction of the bleachers. I couldn’t make my mouth work and say words. Why couldn’t I say words?

  Stella Davis had me tongue-tied and I wanted to scream.

  Her blue eyes locked on mine and it was one of those moments when everything goes quiet and it’s like you’re the only two people in the world. And then she blinked and rolled her eyes.

  “Come on,” Grace said, tugging at my arm. I stumbled a step before I could regain my footing. Grace was always nice about not walking too fast for me and she held onto my arm all the way back to the bleachers and we sat back down in front.

  We handed out the snacks and then Grace turned to me.

  “Okay, what the hell was that? You looked like you were . . .” she trailed off.

  “I looked like I was what?” A cold drip of fear slid down and pooled into my stomach. I didn’t want her to say it at the same time I almost did.

  Grace studied my face and then pressed her lips together.

  “Never mind,” she said, brushing a hand over her hair. It sprung back immediately.

  I let it drop. I had been friends with Grace for a long time and I knew her face probably better than my own. I knew what she was going to say without her having to say it.

  And it scared the ever-loving shit out of me.

  Was it karma that kept dropping Kyle Blake in my path? That was the second time I’d nearly knocked her over in one week. I felt bad about it, mostly because she had a difficult time walking, but I couldn’t bring myself to not be a bitch about everything. If people saw me get soft, things would go back to the way they’d been in middle school and I would die before I let that happen.

  So I let her think I was an asshole. I let everyone think that. Hell, I encouraged it. People didn’t mess with a bitch. They steered clear of her. They didn’t spend their time trying to knock her down and make her suffer. My exterior was steel, topped with razor wire. Come at me and you are going to get cut.

  Anyway, I stepped away from her, but not before I got a weird vibe. Like, she was staring at me in a way that she hadn’t before. If I didn’t know better.

  Yeah, no. She was definitely into guys. I’d heard her talk with her friend Grace (another person who didn’t take shit from anyone, which I actually admired) about the hot football players and so forth and I was pretty sure she’d had a few boyfriends.

  She was kinda cute though. Had that nerdy thing going on with the glasses, and she could do a messy bun that I envied. Ugh, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to go after anyone here. College. Just wait until college.

  We won the game and afterwards the cheer team went out for pizza. There was a party at Maria’s house and since I didn’t have anything better to do and the whole squad was going, I went.

  It was pretty typical. A bunch of us in the huge basement of her parent’s house, some smuggled alcohol, and crappy music. I tried to let go and have a good time, but I couldn’t seem to do it.

  “What the hell is up with you?” Midori asked me as I sipped a weak wine cooler. I never got plastered at these things because I didn’t see the point. Not that I hadn’t been wasted before, but the experience had not been enjoyable and I didn’t want to repeat it.

  I didn’t answer as I watched Destiny Cook tangle her tongue with Brett Forrester’s. Gross. I made a face and looked back at Midori. Her brown eyes were studying me in a way I didn’t
like.

  “Nothing,” I said, shrugging one shoulder and sitting next to her on the leather couch that had seen better days.

  “Yeah, somehow I don’t buy that,” she said, leaning back. I was saved from having to answer her by a totally bombed Brian Sharpe trying to hit on her and Midori shooting him down. And cursing at him in Japanese until he went away.

  She turned her attention back to me and I tried not to squirm under her scrutiny. She’d never said anything about me, never asked, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t know. I had the sneaking suspicion she did. But she was too much of a good friend to put me on the spot like that.

  “So?” she said.

  “Just not feeling it tonight. Got a lot on my mind. Dad made me sign up for AP English. I have to start on Monday.” I made a face. I had a ton of homework this weekend to catch up on everything I’d missed in the first few weeks of school. It was going to take me several days to get it all done and I wasn’t looking forward to it. But I’d suck it up because next weekend Dad was taking me car shopping and I couldn’t wait. My car was making a weird grinding noise and I was hoping it would hold out until then.

  “That blows.” I nodded and she didn’t push further. We left early, before things got really out of hand.

  “Call me if you need a break or anything,” she said when I dropped her off.

  “Will do,” I said and then headed home. Dad was already in bed, but I went to say goodnight to him.

  “Did you witness massive amounts of debauchery?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “The usual. It was pretty boring, actually. I’m tired.” He kissed my cheek and I went to take a shower before crawling between fresh sheets.

  I closed my eyes and sighed. It had been a long day and it was going to be a long weekend. I let my mind wander away from the stress and toward something much more pleasant. Smiles and soft skin and laughter. The stress of the day evaporated and I felt my shoulders relax.