Chapter 7
Ezra
Rue doesn’t return my jacket on Monday. I don’t know what I expect, but after passing her twice in the corridors and her blatantly ignoring me, I can’t deny my ego is a little wounded.
It’s not that I need the jacket. If anything, the idea of her keeping it and maybe even wearing it when she gets cold makes me smile like an idiot.
But if she’s supposed to be my girlfriend, we should at least interact in passing.
Unless she’s having second thoughts about the plan. I try not to let that possibility get to me, but it’s hard. And throughout the day, I have to keep checking my thoughts so I don’t focus on her. Especially during practice after school.
We have our playoffs coming up in March, and Coach Dresden pulled me aside last week to let me know there will be college scouts present. “I’m gonna need you to play your best game, Davis,” he said. “And I know you’re capable. Don’t disappoint me.”
But before I could even get on the court today, Coach motioned me over to him. “Davis, get over here.”
I blow out an exhausted exhale and stomp toward him. “Yes?”
“Did I make you captain to watch you get in every fight you can?”
“No, sir.” You probably did it because Dad sponsored the school gym renovation. But worry rises in my throat when I recall Tucker’s warning about Coach wanting to punish me for that fight during our game.
He leans his face closer. “Do you want to perform or do you want to play?”
“Play, sir.”
“Well, thanks to the way you’ve been clowning around, you’re about to do both.” He faces the rest of the team and shouts to them, “We’re all going on a little field trip. Follow me.”
All the guys groan as we line up. A few of my teammates frown at me like this was my idea, when Coach is clearly messed up in the head if he’s willing to sacrifice our practice time to teach us some petty lesson.
We follow in a single file line across campus. I wince when I try to think about what we could possibly be forced into, all because I got into a fight, when Coach leads us into the drama club classroom.
Drama club? Is this some kind of joke?
The rest of the team must think so too, because the guys mumble their confusion around me until I shoot them a warning glance from the front of the line. The last thing we need is Coach Dresden getting any more ideas or reasons for them.
“As captain, I hold you to a higher standard, Davis. As for the rest of the team, consider this a warning.” Coach opens the door to the classroom. “If any of ya’ll want to act like clowns, then by all means take center-stage.”
We file into the classroom, which is full of theater students.
Immediately, my gaze shifts to where Rue is sitting near the back.
She watches us enter the room with wide eyes.
I try to imagine what she’s seeing—the entirety of Fallbrook’s basketball team infringing on her theater space.
All fifteen of us towering players. The contrast of the way my team stomps into the room, loud and murmuring, compared to the carefully observant, quiet drama club, kinda feels like being a tornado at a tea party.
And Rue is no exception. She silently shoots daggers at me with her eyes. It’s almost like I never even rescued her from that party Friday night.
“Uh, coach?” I mutter. “What are we doing here?”
But he ignores me and nods at the young teacher standing up here with us. She beams at him and tucks a strand of her honey-colored hair behind her ear. Am I imagining the blush on her cheeks as she smiles at Coach Dresden?
“Thanks for doing this,” she tells the coach. “You have no idea how excited I am.”
Coach shrugs one shoulder, oozing game. “He’s all yours. Don’t let him sucker you, either. Put him through what he deserves.”
She giggles, and Coach Dresden ducks out of the room with nothing more than a salute in our direction. What the heck is happening? Now I’m feeling nervous.
“Please, allow me to introduce myself,” she says.
“My name is Miss Fern, and I’m the new drama teacher here at Fallbrook.
” Turning back to her own class, she gestures to us and says, “Justin—I mean, Coach Dresden—was nice enough to let me borrow the captain of this amazing group of athletes for the sake of our spring production’s rehearsals. ”
Meredith Evans raises her hand. “Um…not to be rude, ma’am, but how does that make any sense?”
Miss Fern blushes again. “Excellent question. The original play I wrote happens to be about a co-ed team of basketball players. And as someone who very much values authenticity, I thought having the Fallbrook Falcons as mentors to the cast would be invaluable.”
The silence that follows bounces off the walls. Nobody speaks as we all contemplate what Miss Fern is saying. It seems like forever before my brain catches up enough to form words.
Then Carlton mutters, “What in the High School Musical?”
For once, I’m with him. Frustration coils in my gut, but then I remember Rue. If I speak any of the thoughts racing through my mind, how is that going to look? I just claimed to be dating her, so voicing how dumb I think this is? Probably not the smartest.
“This is a really big season,” I say as kindly as possible. “Are you sure Coach thinks this is a good use of my time?”
Miss Fern nods so fast, her dangly sunflower earrings slap her jaw. “Oh, believe me. I know. I’d never want to take up too much of your time, which is why he’s only letting me borrow you a couple times a week until the playoff game.”
I blink. “W-we’re meeting every week?”
She shrugs. “Your coach wants the team to see what happens when you get in fights.” She smiles. “I just can’t wait to have your help, Ezra.”
I can’t help it. I glance at Rue. The look of unfiltered horror crossing her face would be comical if I didn’t know for a fact I’m the reason for it.
This arrangement will force us to spend quite a bit of time together.
And I can’t help it. I feel bad for her because seeing me must still cause her pain.
And knowing that makes my resolve even stronger.
I can’t take back what I did, but I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to her.
Miss Fern beams at each guy on the team, ending with me. “That’s all for today. I’ll see you back after auditions take place.”
I nod, leading the way out the door, and my team doesn’t hesitate for one minute to follow. When we get back to the gym, I ignore the barely muffled snickers I hear from the guys and head directly for Coach. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“You tell me.” He crosses his arms. “How serious are you taking this?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I need to be spending my time practicing, not teaching theater students how to dribble.”
“Then I suggest you do a good job, because otherwise you won’t be starting at the playoff game. In fact, you’re lucky you’re not suspended this time.”
My stomach sinks. No. Coach knows how much this means to me, the opportunity for that scout to notice me. My chance at a scholarship. All of it suddenly feels like it’s slipping away.
“I’ll take it seriously, coach. I promise.”
“I hope so. And Davis? One more fight will have you suspended, regardless of how well you teach those students to dribble.”
I wait outside the drama room for Rue after practice. At first, I wasn’t sure if she was still in there, but I peeked through the window and saw Miss Fern still talking at the front.
I need to figure out where we stand with the fake relationship. After the way she ignored me today, I might already have my answer. But I still want to ask her.
When the door opens, and students file out, Meredith meets my gaze and glares at me, crossing her arms. “So, you’re the new boyfriend. Apparently.”
I don’t respond, because I’m not sure if it’s true right now. Thankfully, I’m saved when Rue emerges from the classroom next. When she sees me standing next to Meredith, she freezes. “What’s going on?”
Meredith shrugs. “Talking to your new boyfriend. If that’s what he really is.” Behind the sharp tone, I notice the way hope stitches itself across Meredith’s face, like she desperately wants to believe it.
Rue nods. “It is. Like we said at Dot’s party. I’m not trying to steal Carlton from you, Mere, I promise.”
I’m vaguely aware of the shift in the hallway.
No one else is talking, but I can feel the eyes of the rest of the drama students on us as they walk past. The three of us stay quiet until we’re the only ones left in the corridor, but a few more students are still in the classroom talking to Miss Fern.
“Look, I want to believe you. I miss you,” Meredith finally says, her voice cracking. “But it’s hard to trust you.”
Tears well up in Rue’s eyes.
I don’t know what to do anymore. All I can do is keep repeating myself, for Rue’s sake. “Well, you should believe her,” I say. “She’s with me now.”
Meredith’s cheeks get red. “It’s just a little hard to believe when Rue hasn’t even mentioned liking you.”
I’m momentarily stunned when Rue moves closer to me, linking her arm through mine, but recover quickly. “I haven’t mentioned him because you haven’t given me a chance.”
Hope laces Meredith’s expression as she takes in what Rue is saying. Her posture relaxes a bit. “Kiss, then.”
Rue blinks. “Excuse me?”
“If you’re really dating, then prove it. Kiss him.”
Rue shifts her stance, like she’s nervous, and says, “I’m not into PDA.”
“That’s what I thought,” Meredith says. “You’re not really together.”
“Why would I lie about this?” Rue asks.
Meredith shrugs. “I don’t know. Why would you…?”
I think I might be short-circuiting. My brain turns to complete mush as Rue suddenly grips my shoulder, pulling me closer to her.
I don’t have time to process the fact that we’re standing close enough for me to feel her body heat before we’re facing each other and she’s pressing her lips against mine.
The kiss is so sudden, I forget who’s behind it for a moment.
I fail to remember it’s Rue, who I’ve known since she still played with dolls.
All I can think about is the way her lips softly coax mine open before the kiss becomes more intense and hot, stealing my breath away.
She grips the front of my jersey to steady herself.
The hint of her body wash mixed with the smell of dust in the corridor makes me lightheaded, and before I can process how much I want this to continue, Meredith clears her throat.
“Okay, you can stop now. I, um, believe you.” There’s a layer of humor in her voice as Rue and I break apart.
Her entire face blushes as she averts her gaze from mine and back to Meredith. “Happy?”
“Yes.” She fiddles with a strand of her hair, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry for doubting you two.”
Rue sags in relief. “Thank you.”
I chuckle and squeeze her hand before pressing a small kiss to the side of her head. Like it’s no big deal. Like I do it all the time. “I better get going. See you later.”
I leave Rue and Meredith alone in the hallway and ignore the sound of girlish giggles that bursts from them as I retreat.
They might be laughing, but I can’t believe that just happened.
I can still feel the imprint of Rue’s mouth on my own.
I feel like I just got off a rollercoaster, having kissed her.
I don’t know why, because this wasn’t my first kiss—not at all.
But I’ve never felt so jittery after locking lips with someone.
Well, Ezra, you might have a lot to think about now, but at least you got your answer about whether she still wants to be your fake girlfriend.