At this point I was yelling at my brain to send those signals to my mouth that made me, you know, speak.
I managed a weak nod.
“We wanted to keep it private,” Brett continued, smiling like he was auditioning for a role in a Hollywood film.
Jenny stared. My hands shook. And Brett just stood there, looking as calm as water while my insides were a complete tsunami.
“There’s no way you two are dating.”
The way she said it was so confident, so cruel. And that hurt the most. Because why was that unbelievable? Then all I could remember was how it felt the first day of sophomore year when I saw Jenny in the halls. When I walked to her locker, excited to tell her about summer break, and she looked at me and laughed. “Do I know you?” she had said before turning back to her new friends. Was that what it was? The difference in social groups? Brett couldn’t be interested in a girl who sits against trees and reads. No. He had to date someone of equal social status. Right? Someone popular. Someone like Jenny.
Brett shrugged, seeming unfazed by the entire situation, as if this was a part of his regular daily routine. Like if you snuck a glance at his agenda it’d say “pretend to date Becca Hart at ten before heading over to second period.” Easy-peasy.
“Is this, like, some act for drama class?” Jenny continued.
“It’s not an act,” I said, holding his hand tighter because, why not? Which may have backfired a little because Jenny said, “Prove it.”
Then Brett stepped in front of me. His back was to Jenny and his hands were on my cheeks. “Kiss me back,” he whispered when his face was an inch from mine.
And then it felt like my heart was tumbling down, down, down. All the way until it hit the center of the earth. And, wow, maybe those books were kind of onto something about this whole kissing-making-time-stop thing because with Brett’s lips on mine, it kind of felt that way.
Brett
MY FIRST THOUGHT WAS THAT I probably shouldn’t have done that.
Becca’s arms were still around my neck, and she was staring up at me with these wide, alert eyes. From this close, I could see the freckles on her nose, and her hair looked like a massive blur, pushed behind her ears like tangles of sunshine.
I never go around kissing strangers. I didn’t really go around kissing anyone.
I could feel Jenny watching us the entire time but when I turned around, she was gone, halfway down the hallway.
I turned back to Becca. “So,” I began. “You okay?”
She coughed. Her eyes seemed to land on every spot in the hallway except for my face. “Yeah,” she said.
I leaned against the locker, trying to not laugh. “You know, that kiss wasn’t half bad.”
At that, her eyes finally landed on mine. Her cheeks turned red. The color was swallowing up her freckles. She picked up her bag off the floor, holding a book in the crook of her arm.
“I need to get to third period,” she said.
“It’s second period.”
“That’s what I said.”
She took off down the hall. If she walked any faster, she’d be sprinting.
Not the best reaction to a first kiss, for the girl to run away from you.
The sun was still high in the sky when school let out. I met Jeff, my closest friend on the team, at my car and we drove back to my house. My parents weren’t home. My dad had taken the day off work to go to some event with my mom. They were always going to events, waving checks around and making a name for themselves in our small town. My dad’s money was part of the reason our football team was the best in the state. It bought us new gear every few months and kept the field in perfect shape.
My dad was proud of our team. More proud of me. He played football in high school too. Team captain. His talent earned him a full scholarship to Ohio State, but then my mom got pregnant with me during senior year. My dad gave up football to stay home with her and raise me. That’s why this team meant so much to him, and to me. I was continuing the dream he never had the chance to live out.
My mom loved all the perks marriage gave her. The social standing. The money. The clothes her friends envied and the celebrity status her last name carried. My parents never thought they’d be so wealthy after getting pregnant at eighteen. But my dad went back to college after I was born and got a degree in finance. Now he’s the CFO of United Suites, a hotel chain throughout the country. He travels a lot for work. My mom doesn’t like it, but she doesn’t complain. The money’s enough to keep everyone happy, even when he’s gone for weeks. He always comes back for my football games, though. He’s never missed one.
Jeff and I were in the backyard, throwing the football back and forth. “There’s no off time if you want to be the best” was what my dad always said. It replayed in my head like a mantra every day, reminding me not to let him down. I was repeating it when Jeff threw the football. I jumped for it and missed.
“You’ve had a girlfriend for a day and it’s already ruining your game!” he called. Looked like the news traveled fast around school.
I picked up the ball and threw it back. A perfect spiral. “Still better than yours!” It slammed into his chest and he fell backward on the grass, laughing. I jogged over and tossed him a water bottle.
“When did that start?” he asked.
“What?”
“Your”—he waved his hand around—“relationship.”
“Oh. End of summer.” The words came out quickly. I hadn’t even decided if I was going to go along with this relationship yet. Girlfriends weren’t my thing. Neither was high school drama.
“And you didn’t think to tell me or the team?”
I shrugged. “You know how people talk at school. I don’t want my relationship being gossiped about.”
“Everyone is already talking about you,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, for carrying the team to finals,” I teased, slapping his shoulder. “Not for who I date.”
Truth was, I’d never dated in high school. There were girls, crushes here and there, but it never turned into anything more. I was always so focused on football, keeping my head in the game to make my parents proud, that I never had time for dating. I wasn’t into the whole one-night thing like the other guys on the team. I wanted the kind of love my parents had—real love—but I wasn’t in any rush to find it.
The gate opened then and my parents walked into the backyard, hand in hand, looking way too dressed up to be standing beside Jeff and me, drenched in sweat. My mom’s heels were sinking into the grass with every step.
“Dad!” I grabbed the football and jumped up. “We were just taking a quick break. Wanna join?”
He slapped my shoulder. My mom was smiling, gazing between the two of us.
“Next time,” he said.
“Your dad has to pack, Brett. He’s leaving tonight for New York,” said Mom.
“But the first game of the season is on Friday. You can’t miss it.” I hated sounding like a whiny five-year-old, but my dad never missed a game.
“My flight lands Friday morning. I’ll be there.”
I smiled, breathing again, and watched them walk back inside. I never cared for the money or the status. I loved my parents and our family. The rest was a bonus.