Rory
“Your Playa Bowl, Miss Lorelai.”
the pink spoon he’d deposited along with it.
“Thanks.”
As a senior, Tucker had the privilege of leaving campus for lunch, so he often went into downtown Woodmont to bring back food
for the both of them. It was one of the many perks of dating a senior with his own car. She popped open her bowl as he unpacked
two bacon cheeseburgers, a bag of fries, and another bag of onion rings. The scent of all that grease and salt almost made
her heave.
“What’s the matter? You got an exam this afternoon?”
“No.” A cool breeze scattered orange and yellow leaves over her feet and across the courtyard, and she tipped her head back to let the sun warm her face. She knew Tucker didn’t want to hear about the cheer squad tryouts and her lack of candidates anymore, so she cast around for another topic.
“I’m just swamped. There’s a French quiz tomorrow, and I’ve got homecoming committee during free period, and you know the
nominations just came out. Plus, I’ve got to help Owen with his audition piece, and he’s volunteering at the food pantry after
school, so I’ll have to leave cheer practice early to go get the car and pick him up.”
“And then there’s the tryout tomorrow.” Tucker smirked and took a gigantic bite of his burger. “Don’t forget about that.”
Rory gave a wan smile, appreciating the fact that he’d brought it up. “It’s like you know me.” She took a small scoop of acai
and banana out of her bowl and ate.
“I know there’s nothing you care about more than cheerleading,” he said.
That stung. Rory did care about cheerleading—a lot. But there were things she cared about more. Her brother. Her grades. Her
friends. Tucker. It was kind of frustrating that he saw her that way.
Rory and Tucker had been a couple for almost a year now.
Their first date had been at last fall’s homecoming dance, but they’d become official when he’d asked her to be his girlfriend at Cody Beckwidth’s Halloween party.
She was pretty sure it was her sexy Princess Leia costume that had made up his mind.
There was a lot about Tucker she liked. He had a good sense of humor; he was fun; he loved hanging out with Owen, which gave Owen a lot of popularity points at Woodmont High; and he was always happy to drive her where she needed to go when she couldn’t get the car.
But she kept waiting to fall in love with him. She kept thinking she’d wake up one morning and feel . . . more.
So far, it hadn’t happened. But maybe it didn’t need to. Maybe this was what a high school relationship was. Mutual like and
someone to go to dances with. They had both been named to the homecoming court yesterday afternoon, and she knew they were
going to look perfect together in the photos. They just made sense.
Tucker chucked his chin toward her phone, which was lying face down on the table. Even her seasonal phone case, a cartoon
drawing of a black cat side-eyeing a jack-o’-lantern, couldn’t bring a smile to her face.
“Have you checked the sign-ups recently?” He raised his eyebrows as he sucked down about half the contents of his chocolate
shake in one go.
“What’s the point?” she said, picking up her phone and turning it screen-up. “No one else is going to—”
She paused, her stomach giving a lurch. There was a notification saying there was new activity on her Google Doc. Her finger
quaked as she clicked it open. Her eyes scanned to the bottom of the very short list. The name that had been added brought
her up short.
Jacob Reilly
“No. No! Oh, come on. Who put him up to this?”
Tucker burst out laughing, his mouth open wide enough for her to see the masticated remnants of a french fry in his teeth.
She closed her eyes and slapped her phone down again.
“You did?” she demanded, her face heating with fury.
“I can’t take credit.” Tucker raised his palms at her, a smear of ketchup across one of them. She tossed him a napkin. “It
was a bet.” He wiped his hands, then took another bite of his first burger. “He lost, by the way.”
Rory’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, so the only reason any guy in his right mind would try out for cheer is if he lost a bet.”
“I didn’t say that,” Tucker replied through a mouthful of food. “That’s just what happened.”
“Well, he’s not trying out. This is important to me, Tucker! I’m not going to let Jacob Reilly make it into some joke!”
Rory could just imagine Jacob rolling into tryouts in some bad wig, with too much makeup painted on his face and wearing some
joke of a cheerleading outfit. He’d make a mockery of the thing she cared most . . . well, fourth or fifth most about in the
world. Just like he had so many times in the past.
She shoved her spoon into her bowl, but when she thought about taking another bite, her stomach turned. Grabbing her phone again, she went to delete Jacob’s name from the form.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Tucker reached across the table and put his hand over hers. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m deleting him!” Rory hated how shrill her voice sounded, so she waited a beat before adding slowly, “I would rather face-plant out of the arms of a freshman than have Jacob Reilly on my team.”
“No, wait! You can’t delete him!” Tucker’s tone had grown oddly serious, and he wore an expression to match. “Just hear me
out.”
Rory took in a long, deep breath and held it. She stared across the table at her boyfriend, his blond hair tousled by the
chilly breeze. She hugged her varsity jacket closer and braced herself. “Fine. What?”
“Jacob got thrown off the soccer team. Or at least, suspended, or whatever. Coach was pissed about Cody being out for two weeks, and he blames Jacob.” He looked away for half a second,
then back again. “Then he found out he was going to try out for cheer, and he suspended him.”
“Well, good! There should be consequences for his idiotic behavior.” She hadn’t been able to believe it herself when she found
out Cody had landed in the ER. The nurses and doctors there must have thought Woodmont High was a total disaster zone, with
him and Stuart arriving within twenty-four hours of each other.
But when she’d heard Cody had fallen off Jacob Reilly’s roof, she hadn’t been surprised in the slightest. Accidents, mishaps, injuries, traffic tickets, detentions—they all followed wherever Jacob went.
When she had written “Save the squad” at #10 on her Things to Accomplish During High School list, Jacob Reilly was not what she’d had in mind.
Rory had never been the biggest fan of Coach Fitz, but maybe she should rethink her first impression. Jacob had scored, like,
a zillion goals last year. If Coach was willing to bench him for his antics, he was clearly deserving of her respect.
“Just let him try out,” Tucker said. “The dude’s down in the dumps. It’ll be fun for him.”
“Exactly! He’ll show up in dumb cheer costume from, like, the 1980s, and make fun of us and act like a jerk and get a good
laugh at our expense.”
“So?”
Rory nearly bubbled over with indignation. “So? So how is that okay with you? This is, as you said, one of the most important
things in my life. But I should just let the class clown make a mockery of it? Because he feels bad after royally screwing
up his life? That makes sense.”
Tucker raised his shoulders dramatically. “I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like I’m asking you to pick him. Just
let him try out.”
Rory grabbed the plastic lid from the table and pressed it back down to cover her food.
“Let me put this in terms you’ll understand.
What if I sent Gwen to try out for Jacob’s now vacant striker spot on the soccer team, and she deliberately took the ball in the wrong direction and scored on your own goalie?
Just for laughs? How would you feel about that? ”
“That’s ridiculous.” Tucker sucked down some more of his shake. “Gwen could never score on any goalie.”
Rory got up from the table. “I’m out of here.”
“No, wait! I’m sorry. Rory, wait!”
But it was too late. Rory moved quickly across the courtyard, yanking open the door to the central hallway and slipping inside.
Tucker had pissed her off so thoroughly that if she went back to the table now, she might dump her entire Playa Bowl onto
his head.