8. Bailey
Word that Jamiehad joined the football team spread fast, and Jamie became an instant celebrity. It shouldn’t havesurprised me. He’d always been somewhatpopular and recently marginalized as a sex symbol. Why not add in the jock stereotype? And the groupies?
School started with itall my insecurities. I wasn’t a complete troll, but I would never compete with the underwear model wannabes. Nope, I was firmly and comfortably in the girl-next-door niche, which suited me just fine.
Usually. Mostly.
I won’t lie, even to myself. I’d do anything to have the same confidence as the girls who hung all over Jamie. Alas, that wasn’t me.
And it sucked. Jamie and I had been on the outskirts of the football fandom for years. Him because he didn’t play and me because I was, well, me. Dallin had always maintained a certain level of popularity just because he was athletic, playing football and basketball. I’d always had Jamie to pal around in the lower tiers of our high school’s social stratosphere. But not this year.
Why have I never made any girl friends?
“Has Jamie Barnes always been so hot?”
Oh, yeah. That was why.
I wanted to tune out the girls who’d been gossiping about Jamie since I’d arrived at my locker but couldn’t. Because A) they were literally right next to me, and I needed to get into my locker, and B) they were talking about my best friend.
“Who cares? He’s hot now.”
My stomach churned, but that didn’t keep me from eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Did you guys hear?” one of them asked.
“What?” Three or four voices asked in unison.
“I heard some girls talking about Jamie.”
“Everyone’s talking about him. What of it?”
I wondered the same thing.
“He made the rounds all summer, making out with a different girl every weekend, sometimes two. Girls have been talking about taming the NCMO King and getting him to commit to a relationship. Whoever can get more than NCMO—” she paused dramatically, making the other girls giggle. “Anyway, it’s that or dates. Three in a row. Like a challenge or whatever.”
“Jamie hasn’t gone out with anyone since Allie.”
It surprised me how much these girls knew about Jamie. Not that it was a secret he’d gone out with Allie. The whole school knew about that. But tracking his dating history? That was a bitstalker-ish.
“Girls will throw themselves at him now that he’s on the football team. His popularity has skyrocketed.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind making a play for Jamie. That boy is fine.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. Whipping around, I confronted them. “Jamie is a person. Not a piece of meat.”
No one seemed shocked by my outburst. Now that I was looking, I recognized them as juniors from the dance team and cheer squad. Down the hall, the seniors surrounded Jamie. These girls were waiting for their turn for a chance to talk to him. Pathetic.
Erica Pullman, who I realized had been doing most of the talking, narrowed her eyes.
“You’re worried we think he’s a piece of meat? Jamie didn’t get the nickname NCMO King for nothing.” Erica sneered. “Don’t be a hypocrite just because he’s your friend.”
“Two people kissing for fun when they both know what’s going on is not the same as a bunch of girls challenging each other to go after him without his knowledge.” It made me sick, especially since I half agreed with what they said about Jamie. Maybe he deserved what those girls had planned for him.
“Whatever. He’s hot and popular and will kiss anyone with lips.” Erica’s spiteful gaze raked over me from head to toe. She smirked. “Except maybe you.” With that, Erica and her friends turned on their heels and sauntered away, leaving me angry and shaking.
I didn’t havetime to talk to Jamie until after practice on the ride home. By then, I’d decided not to tell him about the conversation I’d overheard at my locker that morning. Jamie was a big boy. He could take care of himself. But the whole thing was eating a hole in my brain, and when he came by my house after dinner for a walk around the neighborhood, I’d worked myself into a fine lather.
It didn’t help that the house had been a wreck when I walked in, and dinner was burning on the stove while Mom fed Delia on the couch half-asleep. To top it off, Preston was running around in his potty training underwear and nothing else. I salvaged the top half of the rice in the pot, although it had a distinct scorched flavor, and changed Preston into a pull-up diaper and pajamas. It was too early for bed, but I wasn’t about to change him again later.
My stepdad, Jerry, walked in as I cleared the table after feeding the kids and took over. He made Stella and Benson clean up the front room while he did the dishes, and Mom escaped to her room.When Jamie rang the doorbell, Jerry told me to go and thanked me for helping.
“Hang on, I’ll get my shoes,” I called over my shoulder as I ran up the stairs to my room. I came back down to find Jamie under a pile of my siblings.
“You know, you don’t have to let them do that,” I told him as we headed out the door.
“It’s okay. I don’t have siblings. It’s fun. Sometimes.” He shot me a lopsided grin.
I could see that, but it was still embarrassing how they hung all over him every time he walked in the door. If they did that to me, I’d never walk in.
“Is baby girl sleeping any better?” he asked as we rounded the corner on our block.
“No, and I feel so bad for my mom. Preston is a handful, and she has to deal with him and Delia all day after not sleeping all night.”
Jamie shook his head. “Kinda makes you rethink parenthood, right?”
He didn’t know the half of it. “It’s the best kind of birth control.”
Jamie’s step stuttered, one leg landing at an awkward angle. I thought he was going to fall.
“Whoa! Are you okay?” We both stopped so he could get himself under control.
“Birth control?” he choked out, his face every shade of red.
I raised an eyebrow. “I havereached the age where procreation could happen, James.”
His eyes bulged. He choked for real, coughing badly enough that I pounded on his back.
“That was not at all the turn I imagined our conversation taking,” he said a few moments later, his voice broken and scratchy from his near-death experience.
I had to laugh. “Oh, my gosh. I didn’t know your eyes could get that big.”
“You just said birth control and procreation, Bales. It threw me off.”
“I guess. I almost had to perform the Heimlich.” This made me laugh even harder.
“Not funny.” Jamie glared. He pounded on his chest as he continued to cough a little.
“Oh, it was funny.” I giggled. “Remind me not to mentionhaving children around you ever again. I wouldn’t want you to die on the spot.”
“I’m an eighteen-year-old guy! What do you expect?”
“A little maturity, Barnes. It’s not all that unusual for a girl to be worried about things like that. And I am a girl, you know.” I figured he needed a reminder since he and Dallin liked to ignore that fact.
“Why does everyone think I need to be reminded of that? I know you’re a girl, Bailey.” He studied me with his hand on his hipand his brows bunched together. “And why would you be worried about things like birth control?” His eyes widened again.
Was he kidding? “Weare done talking about this.” I started walking before he could protest. It took him a few seconds to follow. He jogged to catch up, stopping me with a hand on my arm.
“Bailey—” I’d never seen him so serious. “Are you?” He cleared his throat. “Are you seeing someone?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Firstof all, when would I have time for a boyfriend between chores at home, practice, and hanging out with Jamie? And second, how insulting?
His eyes bounced back and forth between mine.
How could I be seeing someone else when the only guy I ever saw was him?
“No?” he said uncertainly. “You’re the one who said birth control. Why would you say that unless...” his voice trailed off.
Now, I was the one with my hands on my hips as I glared at him. How had we gotten here? How had our friendly walk turned into this?
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I’m not seeing anyone.” Except I imitated his deep voice when I said seeing anyone. Because that was mature. “And I brought it up because I was being funny because my siblings make me want to rethink ever having kids.In the future. Far, farinto the future.”
Jamie’s chin backed up into his neck. “Not any of my business? How is you liking someone not my business? You’re my best friend.”
Wow. I crossed my arms over my chest. “So, we’re all up in each other’s business, now? Is that it?” I took a step forward, thrusting my chin out, forcing him to back up a step.
“Um—” His eyes skittered around my face, over my shoulder, and even over his shoulder. Too bad. He’d dug this hole. There’d be no easy escape. In fact, this conversation had been a long time coming.
“We could talk about you and your make-out haremif you want.” I jabbed a finger in his chest.
Ouch.
I’d use my fist next time.
“I never said—” His eyes looked wild.
“So, you don’t want to talk about the girls you make out with?” I let him think about that for all of a split second. “Or maybe you meant you can’t believe anyone would be interested in me like that?” I took another step toward him, backing him into a tree.
“I would never say that.” Jamie reached for me, distressed.
“You think it, though. You and Dallin both.” I brushed his hands away, not wanting him to touch me.
Jamie shook his head, shell-shocked. But I wasn’t finished. Maybe it was the stress at home. Or the knowledge that we’d begun our senior year and my chances with Jamie were dwindling. Maybe I was still stinging from the harsh words from those cheerleaders this morning. Whatever it was, I was on a roll, and screw the consequences.
Jamie opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “Do you think I’m stupid? That I don’t know what you think about me?” I poked his chest again. “You’ve kissed half the girls at school,” I accused him. “Youkiss them, and you don’t even like them. They don’t mean anything to you, and you’ve never kissed me.”
JAMIE
We usedto playfreeze tag when we were kids, running around like chickens with their heads cut off until we got tagged and had to freeze. But eight-year-olds don’t quite understand the concept of ‘frozen.’ They move. Wiggle. Fidget until someone comes along to unfreeze them.
When Bailey uttered the words, you’ve never kissed me, my entire being completely froze. And my eighteen-year-old body knew exactly how it was done. I didn’t bat an eyelash. I was confident even my heart had stopped.
The only thing moving—scrambling—racing was my brain. My stupid, stupid brain. It was on overdrive. I couldn’t make sense of a single thought except one:
Kiss Bailey?
How had this happened?
Kiss Bailey?
I just wanted to go for a walk.
Kiss Bailey?
Bailey was my best friend.
Kiss Bailey?
Did Bailey want me to kiss her?
Kiss Bailey?
Did I want to kiss Bailey?
Whoa!
Whoa!
Slow down.
In my head, I screamed every expletive I’d ever heard in the locker room. And all in a matter of about three seconds. Kiss Bailey?
I played back the last fifteen minutes in my mind. I still couldn’t make sense of any of it. Freaking kiss Bailey?!
I was honest enough with myself to admit I’d never once in all the years I’d known Bailey, ever thought about kissing her. Good grief, just a few nights ago, I fell asleep with her curled in my arms, and it never even registered to think of her like that.
Maybe everyone was right. Perhaps I didn’t know Bailey was a girl. Of course, she was a girl, but she was Bailey, my best friend. Best friends were not kissing material.
It took five seconds. Five seconds for everything I thought I knew to get flipped on its head. Right there in front of Mr. and Mrs. Carter’s house, staring into Bailey’s grass green eyes—did I even know they were green before?—a flood of awareness flooded me.
My brain emptied.
My focus sharpened, narrowed.
My frozen muscles tensed.
I tuned every sense to the girl in front of me.
How had I never seen her before?
I’d never considered Bailey’s appearance before other than to register how well equipped she was for our planned activities.
Now, she’d put the thought in my head. She forced me to look deeper into myself, my feelings for her, our friendship, relationship. Possibilities. My initial reaction was to rebel, close my eyes to her fiery hair and smooth, creamy skin. The only problem? I already knew her skin was soft. It had never affected me, but the memory made my fingers itch to reach out and touch her cheek.
I cataloged her features. High cheekbones. Heart-shaped face. Delicate brows. Slender neck. Narrow shoulders. Lean, fit runner’s body with—my eyes widened as, unwillingly, I noticed frickin’ sweet curves.
“I have to go.” It was almost dark. I couldn’t leave her alone on the street. Grabbing her wrist, I half dragged her behind me.
“What are you doing? Let go!” Bailey dug in her heels. Literally. That was okay. The girl was teeny—a pocket girl. I could stuff her in the pouch of my hoodie if I wanted.
“I’m going home, and I’m not leaving you out here alone. Let’s go.” I yanked her along.
“I don’t need you protecting me, Jamie, you jerk!” Her tiny, pocket fist pounded on my back.
All I had to do was deposit her on her porch and get away without kissing her or thinking about kissing her. I was losing my mind. With one little statement, my best friend had killed me.
You’ve never kissed me!
And I wasn’t about to start now even though I hadn’t missed her plump, red lips during my inappropriate assessment of the girl next door and had fleetingly pondered doing just that.
Hormones sucked.
“Too bad, Bales. I don’t feel like walking anymore, and my father would kick my butt from the grave if I left you out here on your own.” My dad loved Bailey.
We were almost to her yard. We hadn’t gone far at all, to begin with. I didn’t even pause. Just dropped her wrist like it was a burning, hot coal and got the heck out of there. Leaving her sputtering behind me, I went to take a cold shower.