Chapter Seven
Chapter
seven
“A PARTY,” I SAID THE next day as I intercepted Deja getting out of her white Honda in the school parking lot.
“What?” she asked. “It’s too early to read your mind.”
Lee and Maxwell had parked close as well, and Maxwell called out while heading our way, “You better not be discussing plans without us!”
“We need to find or throw or be at a party where all the football players are,” I said when they reached us.
“Why?” Lee asked.
“Oh!” Maxwell said. “So you can look hot and Jensen can see you and you can make out with another guy?”
“No.” I sighed, adjusting my backpack on my shoulder. “I told you I’m not going to use someone else to punish Jensen.”
“Just be up front with said other person. Say, Can I make out with you because of what Jensen did to me? I guarantee anyone would say yes.”
“You cannot make that guarantee.”
“Then why the party?” Lee asked, bringing us back to the point.
“I need to infiltrate the team, somehow turn them against Jensen.”
“Can the team vote him out?” Lee asked.
“I wish,” I said. “No, the coach makes those decisions.” Even though I didn’t know much about the inner workings of football, I knew this was true from soccer. “But if the whole team is against him, maybe he’ll quit or at the very least be completely miserable. And that will make me happy right here.” I pointed to my heart.
“He’ll be so embarrassed when the whole team hates him,” Max said with a giddy look of anticipation.
The first bell rang.
“Yes, I agree with your party idea,” Deja said. “Make that happen.” The guys nodded as well, and since our classes were in different directions, like every morning, we went our separate ways.
As I walked across the parking lot, I must have been in my head, not paying attention, because a car squealed to a stop inches from my leg. I met Jensen’s eyes through the windshield. One hand had flown up out of instinct and was now resting on the hood of his car. My other hand was on my chest in surprise.
He threw his car into park, right there in the middle of the lane, and jumped out. “Are you okay? Did I hit you?”
I took several deep breaths and straightened up, assessing. Had he? My heart was racing, but my body felt intact. Untouched. “No, you didn’t. I’m fine.”
Relief poured down his face. “Sorry, babe. I mean Finley. I didn’t see you.”
“You do know how to say that word,” I said. My backpack felt tight on my shoulders, and I wondered if I was sucking in too much air. Again, I tried to slow my breathing.
“What?” he asked. Someone laid on their horn behind him. He looked back, and his face went dark. I wasn’t sure why. To me, he said, “ Sorry? Is that what you’re saying? That I should apologize for the podcast thing?”
“For saying I was terrible to the whole school? For stealing my idea? Yes!”
“I don’t think that’s what you’re really mad about. You’re really mad about me earning your spot. The other stuff doesn’t matter toyou.”
Anger coursed through my veins. How dare he tell me what I was really angry about. And how dare he be so wrong. The car behind him, a black BMW with tinted windows, backed up and parked.
“All of it matters, Jensen,” I said.
“Well, I’m sorry,” he said in a quiet voice.
If I thought those words would help at all, I was mistaken, they didn’t.
Theo exited from the BMW and on his walk past us said, “Move your scrap metal, Second String—it’s in everyone’s way.”
Jensen shot him a look but didn’t reply. A week ago, Theo’s dig at Jensen’s place on the football team would’ve made me mad. Today, not so much.
Jensen’s eyes were back on me and he said, “I should…”
“Go,” I said. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
His shoulders rose, then fell. “Once you’re done being angry, can we just—” He took a step forward, attempting to brush myarm.
I stepped back before his hand connected. “Never. I will never be done.”
He sighed, climbed into his car, and, since I was now out of the way, continued down the lane. I whirled around. Ahead, I saw Theo. I increased my speed, not to catch up with him, but because I was going to be late. We stepped onto the curb from the parking lot at the same time. His soapy vanilla scent invaded my space.
He gave me a sideways glance. “You get back together with your boyfriend?”
I gasped. “After what he did? Never.”
“Didn’t you say what he did was no big deal?”
“I lied because you were annoying me.”
He let out a surprised laugh.
I pushed ahead but then hesitated, slowing until he was by my side again. “You’re not throwing a party this weekend, are you?”
“This weekend? As in tomorrow?”
“Or the day after.”
“You looking to party?”
I was so not looking to party. “Something like that.”
He was thoughtful for a moment before he said, “Yes, there will be a party at my place this weekend.”
“Can I come?” We walked toward the science building. I wasn’t sure what he had first period, but that’s what I had.
“Didn’t you flip me off the other day?” he asked.
“Yes, I did.”
He smiled. “And now you want to come to one of my parties?”
And now I needed to be in a place where a large number of football players would be gathering. “Yes.”
He tilted his head toward me, giving me the once-over, as if deciding if I was worthy enough to attend. “Just don’t announce it on the podcast. I’m not inviting the world.”
Of course he wasn’t. “One, I don’t announce anything on the podcast. I don’t speak. Two, that’s not the kind of thing we would put on the podcast.”
“What would you put on the podcast?” he asked as we rounded the first building and entered the covered corridor.
“You’ve never listened to it?”
“Is it good? Should I?”
“I don’t know your taste. Some years are better than others. I like it.”
“You’ve been listening to it for years ?”
“No comment.” I didn’t want to discuss just how deep Jensen’s betrayal went with Theo, of all people.
He didn’t seem to need me to elaborate. “That’s some serious dedication for someone to come along and steal it out from underyou.”
“Are you the king of unhelpful statements?”
“Just keeping it real.”
“Well, don’t,” I said. “My life is already real enough right now.” Who knew that one decision a year ago, the decision to date Jensen, would change so much of my future. In the alternate universe of my life where I didn’t date him, would he have still tried out for the podcast without my idea, without seeing me practice? “Today would’ve been our one year,” I realized out loud.
“Really?” he said. “Do you want me to say happy anniversary or…what’s the protocol on this?”
“Definitely no.”
“At least you dodged a bullet, right?”
“Did I, though?” It felt like I’d been hit right in the heart. My future self bleeding everywhere.
He reached out, without thinking, it seemed, and squeezed my arm, as though validating my pain. Then, just as fast, his hand was back at his side. So fast, I thought maybe I imagined it.
“What was your idea for the podcast?”
“What?” I asked, still confused over the unexpected contact.
“You said Jensen tried out with one of your ideas. What was the one you tried out with?”
Had I said that? I didn’t think I had told him that Jensen tried out with my idea. Whoever ended up telling him the story of what happened must’ve known. “I wanted to interview a new student every week. Get to know our classmates better.” I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed by the idea now. It obviously wasn’t as good as I thought.
“They thought that was too boring?” he asked, as if those were his thoughts on why I didn’t make it.
I held back a sigh. “Guess so.” I stopped outside the science building wondering if he was going to follow me in, but right when I grabbed the handle, he turned the other way. “So the party?” I called after him.
“Tomorrow at seven, Soccer Star!”
“A SEGWAY?” JENSEN ASKED. “ISN’T that one of those two-wheeled electric scooter things? Finley and I rented one of those over the summer. Right, Finley?”
The heads around the table swung in my direction.
When I didn’t answer, Susie said, “No, Jensen, a segue. A smooth transition from one subject to the next. You should have some in your arsenal for when you need to change topics quickly so it won’t be so jarring for the listeners. Eventually they’ll come to you more naturally, but for now, memorize a few.”
“Oh, right. Okay.” He was wearing the headphones that weren’t plugged into anything. “Which ones do you suggest?” He smiled at Ava, and I swear I watched her swoon. She’d been slowly softening to Jensen since she’d been assigned his partner on day one.
They’d been practicing for the last thirty minutes. Going over the basics, like we’d been doing all week. The rest of the class was filling out forms with terminology related to their specialties. It was hard to concentrate, though. Jensen’s voice was so loud that I kept getting distracted.
“He doesn’t know what a segue is?” Rachel, the girl sitting next to me, asked under her breath.
“Sure he does. It’s an electric scooter,” I responded sarcastically.
“You have the patience of a saint, Finley,” she said. “Not sure I could’ve stayed on the team if I were you.”
Little did she know that my rage ran deep. “I couldn’t let him take it all from me.” But really, he already had.
My attention was drawn back across the table, where Ava was looking at Jensen’s phone now. “You’ve been getting these weird messages all week?” she asked.
“Yes, I must’ve gotten added to some spam list.”
My entire body went still. He was getting messages from my bathroom ad. He was going to be embarrassed in front of the whole class. I’d get to see some karma play out right before my eyes.
Ava read a message out loud: “Sitting in the not-so-purple bathroom thinking of you.”
“I liked that one,” he said.
“Why would they say what color the bathroom wasn’t ?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he said.
Ava barked out a laugh as she read another. “ I’m glad I ate dairy today so I could find you. These are funny. We could totally use these as a short feature on the podcast. We could call it Messages from the Spam Folder. Or something like that.”
“ Who Likes Spam, ” Jensen suggested. “ On the Menu for Today: Spam. ”
“That’s not half bad,” Ava said.
Karma, I wanted to scream, you’re supposed to be on my side!