Chapter 16 Amy #2
It’s not exactly rocket science—the guy has a vibe. When he does things, he doesn’t do them by halves, or at least that’s what I’m picking up, and it seems my intuition is right, because he’s nodding and laughing at me now, his eyes sparkling.
“You saw me check that football player out when I came in, didn’t you?”
“And his girlfriend.”
“And his girlfriend,” he agrees. “Twenty bucks says I could have them both.”
“Fifty if you get them both at the same time.”
“This is my kind of party,” Carter says, folding a slice of pizza into his mouth.
Malcolm stretches out his hand, and I shake it. I’ve officially just made my first work buddy—provided I don’t mess this up. Provided I do get hired this summer, after all.
“What Ford, though?” Lewis asks, his eyes lingering on my hand.
I’m holding on to Malcolm’s fingers a little longer than strictly necessary, just to gauge Lewis’s reaction. For a second there, it felt like I was being something close to socially fluid… But the moment he focuses on me, I’m back to the same hot mess I’ve always been. My mind goes blank.
“Amy?”
Shit! Stop staring at Lewis. Let go of Malcolm’s hand. Be normal.
I clear my throat, turning back to my fellow newbie.
“I can’t decide,” I start. “But I’m thinking he’d look good in a Fairland.”
Malcolm gasps. “No freaking way! You are something else…”
“Year?” Adam prompts.
“Well, the Fairlane came out in 1955. I can’t decide whether he’s the type of guy to go for an original, or one of the later models, so—”
“Lewiiiis!”
The end of my sentence gets lost in the mass of blond hair that just cannonballed across the room and straight into my Campus Driver’s lap.
Lewis beams. “Hey, Amber! It’s great you could make it.”
“How could I say no?”
I focus on my wine, balling my fists as I try desperately to reason with myself.
The girls fold me back into their chat, and I pull my best interested face—but I’m completely out of it.
All I can think about is Lewis and his… friend?
Girlfriend? Hookup? Are they a thing? I don’t get that vibe, but it doesn’t matter.
Seeing her bounce on his lap like that has seriously triggered me.
Her voice is like nails on a blackboard.
Lewis, this… Lewis, that… Urgh.
Give her another minute, and I bet she’ll be stripping down to her panties, and when the two of them float off to the makeshift bar at the far end of the living room, I hate her even harder.
“What do you think, Amy?”
I drag my eyes away from Amber to focus back on Lois, watching her try to figure out what I was staring at.
“Sorry. That girl was yapping away so loudly I couldn’t hear you,” I explain. “Is it me, or were you guys hearing ‘penis’ every time she said ‘Lewis,’ too?”
The girls laugh.
“Agreed.” Lois nods.
Becca rolls her eyes. “Big time. Amber’s a nice girl and all, but when she’s got her eye on a guy, she goes in hard. She’ll ease up once Lewis has fucked her.”
“That’s great to hear.”
I turn to Carrie, and the hard stare she’s giving me throws me off-balance.
“What?” I ask, suddenly awkward.
“Guess my prayers got answered,” she murmurs.
Oh, I get it. She sees me—she can feel the jealousy coming off me in waves, and it’s like a domino effect, Lois and Becca catching on in turn. Fuck! Amelia is way too busy devouring Adam’s face to even realize. Small mercies!
I act like it’s no big deal, like I haven’t even noticed them realizing, and I’m grateful that none of them try to push it—especially with all their boyfriends hanging around.
When Lewis finally edges his way back over to us, I sit there peering at my phone, blasting off a message to Raven, reassuring her I’m not wasted or high or in jail.
“Wanna play charades?” he asks, like we’re five years old.
“Aren’t you supposed to be looking after Amber?” Carrie asks, and we exchange a knowing look.
“I’ll deal with her later.” He glances back at me. “What do you say, Amy?”
I say you and your bitch should go play on a road somewhere.
“Say no,” Lois mutters, flapping her hands at me, panic mounting in her eyes.
“No.”
“Guys, come on! It’s the best!” Lewis protests. “It’s the ultimate team-building exercise!”
“You can say that again,” Carrie snorts.
Don sneaks up behind her, wrapping her in his arms. “Come on, baby. It’s not that bad. That was the night you fell for me, remember?”
He plants a kiss behind her ear, and she giggles, snaking her arm around his neck, drawing him to her mouth. Why do I want what they have, all of a sudden?
Carrie pulls away from him. “I’m still not sure how I ever fell for you, but one thing’s for sure—it definitely wasn’t when you used me to act out an ironing board, let me tell you.”
“You gotta think bigger picture, though. There were the maracas, the glass of milk… That’s romance, right there.”
“Who knew my big brother had it in him?” Amelia is shaking her head sadly.
That’s her brother? I’m lost. I have literally no idea what the two of them are jabbering on about. Out of all of them, they’re definitely the weirdest.
“Back when Don was trying to win her over, we played charades, and he used her to mime an ironing board,” Lewis explains, and I’m grateful he notices how confused I look. “That’s how the game works—you use your partner to act out a word.”
Interesting. I have a bunch of different ideas for how I’d use his body. Sounds like my kind of game.
Carrie covers Don’s mouth with her hand and looks over at me meaningfully for the second time tonight.
“Top tip, Amy—your answer should still be no. Lewis plans on making you his guinea pig, and I predict someone is gonna get hurt.”
“Hey!” he protests. “There’s no way I’d hurt her!”
“You wouldn’t. But I’m pretty sure she would.” Carrie grins at me. “I’ll never forget how you bent him over your hood that day. It’s one of my personal highlights—maybe even the best day of my life.”
I can’t help but laugh. I can’t help but notice I’m doing a lot of that tonight, too.
While Lewis continues on his mission to try to get a game going, Jeff plucks a baseball out of his hoodie pocket and tosses it from hand to hand.
I scour the crowd for a glimpse of Amber. There she is.
Lucky for her, she’s keeping her distance, but I can see her sneaking quick glances at Lewis, and I want so badly to go over there and get up in her face.
I talk shop with Lane, discuss the latest big blocks with Adam and Don. I was scared I’d clam up and have nothing to say for myself, but it turns out these guys are really easy to talk to.
When Becca jumps up to fetch her phone, I realize Amber had been sitting on her other side all along, deep in conversation with two other girls, blissfully unaware I’m staring at her now.
I’ve been looking for an excuse to move in for the kill since the moment she arrived, and here’s my chance.
I glance over at Jeff—still throwing and catching, throwing and catching.
Hearing the leather ball slap against his skin doesn’t break my focus.
In fact, it stirs my senses, priming me for action, my muscles twitching as my vision narrows.
And that’s when I see her. I see what this queen is up to behind everybody’s back, and this must be standard for her, because she’s cool as a cucumber.
Confident. Smart. Not smart enough to fool me, though.
“Pass it here, Jeff.”
The conversation is flowing; the energy high. None of them have noticed what’s playing out in the background and the grand finale I have in mind.
Jeff tosses me the ball, and I catch it without flinching, rolling it in the palms of my hands and throwing it high, checking the weight out for size, tweaking my aim.
I keep my eyes off Amber so as not to arouse any suspicion, and I give her a few seconds more to backtrack, though deep inside, I hope she sees her plan through.
I tighten my grip on the ball. I don’t want to back down now.
Lane is talking the table through his latest screenplay, and I watch as slowly, deftly, Amber’s hand sneaks its way over to Becca’s bag, her fingers disappearing into the folds.
Finally, my patience pays off. She whips her hand back out, clutching my new friend’s wallet, and I throw back my arm, take aim, and shoot. Headshot!
I’m probably the only person close enough to make out the dull thwack of the ball bouncing off her head, but everybody hears her cry out in pain. Silence falls over the room. Well, except for Amber and her screaming, that is. That felt good!
“Who did that? Who the fuck just did that?”
I wince. Her nasal drawl is unbearable, and I really wish I’d aimed for her mouth, instead.
There’s an edge starting in the room as people swap glances, trying to figure out what just happened, and how and why, until eventually they follow the ball’s trajectory, heads turning my way, all eyes on me.
The buzz I’m enjoying is temporarily flattened when I remember why I even came here in the first place, and what this might mean.
Hey, nice to meet you! I’m Amy—your new Campus Driver.
You know the one—the girl who beans pickpockets with baseballs.
But relax, guys. She’s still alive, isn’t she?
I could’ve just let someone know, I guess. I could’ve just given Becca a heads-up.
“What the hell was that?” Jeff yells.
Some guy pipes up from behind Lane. “Is she fucking insane?”
“Why’d you do that?” Lewis is glaring at me, a combination of shock and rage flashing in his eyes, and the only person laughing right now is Carter.
I watch as Lewis bends down to Amber, wishing so hard I had a second baseball, grappling for my wine, doing my best to avoid Donovan’s gaze.
“Care to explain what the hell just happened, Firebird?”
Lewis is running his hand through Amber’s hair. That’s going to be one hell of goose egg—I can tell already.
“You’re out of control, Amy…”
Maybe.
I stare at her writhing on the floor like a helpless little princess, tears running prettily down her face, whimpering like I just delivered some kind of fatal blow to her heart, and it takes every drop of self-control I have not to kick her in the guts.
I guess they do things differently around here.
Back in Brooklyn, everybody would instantly just get that she must have done something to deserve what came her way.
Here in Sycamore Heights, it’s like I have to hold back and explain from the start—why I did what I did, why she got what she was given.
Lewis has a point—sometimes, I can spiral out of control, and that’s gotten me into trouble in the past.
“I caught your girlfriend with her hands in Becca’s bag,” I say flatly.
Carter splutters on his beer, and suddenly he’s not laughing anymore.
Becca leaps up and dashes around the coffee table, fishing inside her purse, jerking her head up, freezing when she spots her wallet lying there on the ground next to Amber.
“You fucking bitch!”
A thrill shoots through me as I watch her give the thief a kick. Nice to finally meet someone who shares my values. Lewis grabs her arm and nods at Carter to come calm her down before turning to face Amber.
“I invite you to a party, and you steal from my friends?” His voice is as cold as ice. “Absolute disgrace, dude!”
It’s his catchphrase, but the way he’s said it tonight, there’s nothing lighthearted about it. Amber hits pause on her floor-rolling for a second.
“Not true!” She looks around her nervously. “That crazy bitch just attacked me out of nowhere. I fell over and knocked the bag on the ground, the wallet just slipped out!”
She’s good. She’s really good. Her excuse absolutely sucks, but I’d give her an A for effort. Great reflexes, too. Back home, I’d have introduced her to Emil, for sure. He always gets hard for a busty pickpocket.
Carrie narrows her eyes. “Wow. Pretty amazing you noticed that happen—were you falling in slow motion, or something?”
Amber catches Lewis glancing at me, and her bottom lip starts to tremble. “Come on, Lewis! You know me!”
“I know what I saw,” I say calmly.
He stares harder at me, like he’s trying to figure out how much he trusts me. My heart is pounding. I need him to trust me. He bends down to scoop up the ball, sending it sailing through the air to Jeff. So strong. So precise.
“Get the hell out of here, Amber.”
“And don’t you ever come back!” Insert evil-boss laugh.
She scrambles to her feet and shoots me a nasty look, before heading straight for the front door, and I cross my legs, sinking back into the cushions, a warmth spreading across my chest as I realize the coast is finally clear.
He chose me.
Me.
Lane blows his cheeks out. “Wow.”
“That was epic,” Adam says.
Jeff’s eyes are shining. “That was some fucking throw, girl!”
“It was a little messy,” Donovan corrects him, “but the aim was on point.”
Before I know it, people are clamoring around me, throwing their arms around me, patting me on the shoulder.
“Thank you so much—you’re my hero!”
Did I mention I hate hugs? Like, really hate them? It’s visceral, and I need Becca to stop before someone gets hurt. Again.
“Carter, get your woman under control,” Lewis whispers to his friend. “Firebird’s got her unhinged face on.”
Carter tugs Becca away, before turning to me. “Amy, thank you—seriously. We owe you big-time. Anything you ever need, just ask. Okay?”
“No body-burying requests, though,” Lewis warns. “That was a good shot, Amy… But from now on, maybe try talking before going straight to assault?”
His tone is mellow, mild. A little judgy, maybe, but not harsh. I’ve lost track of how often I’ve been told to think before I act. But this time, it’s different. This time, it’s coming from him.