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Authors: Emily Evans

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BOOK: Do Over
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Dad must’ve let her heat the pool. Not something he let me do.

Aster dabbed at her hair with the towel. The smell of chlorine and coconut sunscreen covered her usual jasmine perfume. “Hey, you two. I heard about the Jumbotron. Wow. Right?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yeah. The prom committee’s money bought a nice big one.” My jaw was starting to hurt from speaking through clenched teeth. The pain matched the throbbing in my temple.

Aster stilled. “Your fundraising money?”

“Yep.”

Aster turned to Dad and propped her hands on her hips.

“It was a school fundraiser, and the money’s being used for the school.” Dad’s voice took on the first hint of defensiveness.

Aster said, “So you asked? Sparkle voted, and donated the money to the team? Sparkle’s getting the credit?”

“There wasn’t time for all that.”

“And we wouldn’t have voted for it.” I barely restrained from stomping.

“They would’ve made you,” Aster said. “But at least you’d get the credit. Like how the band only periodically gets new instruments. But the guy’s locker room looks like a palace. Football has clout.”

“Football brings money to the school. The Jumbotron will bring ad sales. There’s no point in discussing this anymore.” Dad’s tone sounded final. “Let’s move on.”

“You’re right.” Aster moved toward the hallway. “I need a shower. Then Paisley and I are going shopping. But don’t worry. We’re not going to spend fifty thousand dollars.” Aster leaned against the doorjamb. “You got that sign-on bonus for your new job next year. Right? And since it’s family money, she and I are going to the Galleria.”

“Dad?”

Aster held up a hand to stop me. “Oh no. You don’t get to ask for approval. We don’t want a gift. We’re going to take it.” Aster disappeared from view, but her voice rose and I could hear her voice ascending the stairs. “We’ll be at the Galleria. I’m thinking mani, pedi and jeans cut to fit. Oh, and a new blouse, and new sandals to show off the pedicure, and--”

I detoured to the kitchen for a Tylenol.

***

“See, when you look at the Jumbotron, you’ll think about your new top and how cute it is.” Aster waved a hand at my shopping bags. “And your cute new sandals and your cute new jeans. You get the picture. Those things are the silver linings. You can’t live with resentment. You have to find a silver lining. Otherwise you’ll get a bitter, wrinkly future.”

My cell beeped, alerting me to a text from Lauren:
Trey’s party tonight?

Er. I could imagine it. I hadn’t been nice to Trey, and all the jocks would be there gloating over their new Jumbotron.

I typed:
Yeah
. At least I had a new outfit. My new peach blouse matched my new manicure and pedicure perfectly. I shifted my shopping bags higher on my arm to dislodge the thin handles digging into my skin and rubbed the red marks. “I’m going to Trey’s party tonight. How would you feel about dropping me off? Lauren can bring me home.”

“Sure.” Aster stepped closer to the packaged eye shadow palettes at a nearby makeup kiosk. “Let’s talk about the party. And birth control. We haven’t talked about birth control lately.”

***

Misbehaving seniors packed Trey’s impressive sprawling beast of a house. As usual, Trey misbehaved the most. I could tell he’d been drinking because of the slight flush on his cheeks and his rabid stare at the pitcher of margaritas John was mixing.

The blades whirred against the ice and whipped up a frothy concoction that smelled like lime and tangy tequila. John pressed the buttons on the blender with a finesse that screamed future Bartender or Congressman. Behind John, Zoe held out an empty glass and smiled at Trey.

I shook my head. I could have told her it was pointless to smile suggestively at Trey. Trey was a one-date wonder. Everyone with brains knew it. Half the time, I couldn’t even name his date. He never held her hand, and he checked out other girls right in front of her. Last year, I caught him kissing a girl in the foyer early in the evening, and coming out of a bedroom with a different girl later. I’d seen him out with a lot of girls, but rarely twice.

The blender whirred louder and the margarita ingredients spun toward the lid. Zoe shoved forward beside Trey, and frowned at me with challenge in her eyes.

I decided to catch Trey later. I headed toward Lauren and Carla over by the windows. They’d love my new sandals. I’d worried that Aster would impose her own sense of style on our shopping spree. But she hadn’t. I dubbed her style
extreme minimalism
when I was in a good mood. Mom called it
tart-tastic
. We were both right.

Trey’s rough calloused hand grabbed my arm, halting my progress. “If it isn’t my little masseuse.”

“Don’t call me that.” I got a close up view of Trey’s bright eyes and flushed face.
Great.
I pulled at my arm, but couldn’t shake his grip. Figures. Someone who never dropped the football could easily maintain a hold on my arm.

Trey reeled me closer. “Don’t you owe me something?”

“I think that’s my line.” I shut my eyes briefly. “Yeah. No. You’re right.” I blew out a breath and looked at him with sincerity. I lowered my voice. “Sorry about the mistake. I know you didn’t take the money.”

Trey took a sip of his blended drink and assessed me over the rim. I tugged at my arm, but he didn’t release me. Instead, his fingertips brushed the inside of my arm. “Soft.”

I glanced at his margarita. “Wow,” I gushed, wide-eyed. “Is that a Cosmo? You’re exactly like one of those girls from
Sex in the City
.”

Trey opened his mouth to respond, but Zoe got there first. “Well, he
is
sexy.” She leaned against his back. Her motion jostled him, and the icy margarita splashed out, landing on my newly manicured toes, slushy green ice against peach toenails. Trey’s hand righted the glass, and he saved an inch of the contents.

I wiggled my toes against the cold, sticky mixture covering my new sandals. The ones I was supposed to be able to look at and not be sad about the Jumbotron. Grr. I slipped the shoes off and, while meeting Trey’s gaze, deliberately dried my wet toes in his plush carpet.

Trey grinned.

The barbarian didn’t even care.

Zoe slid her hand into his pocket and withdrew his keys. “Ooh. Can I drive the Porsche?”

“Sure,” Trey said, still looking at me. Zoe stumbled a little when she turned. I widened my eyes and opened my hands at Trey.
What the hell?

I pierced him with an expression I learned from Dad and reached out a hand to Zoe’s arm. “Wait. Those are the wrong keys. Let me fix them.”

The tipsy and not-too-bright-to-start-with Zoe handed them over with a swing of her platinum hair. “What?”

I pocketed the keys. “John’s looking for you. He said you look hot tonight, and he wanted to recite an ode to your beauty.”

John, behind the blender, lifted his head. “Huh?”

“An ode?” Zoe widened her eyes.

“A poem. Go ask him.” I gestured toward the blender, happy to throw John under the bus.

I slipped my sandal back on and looked at Trey. “What are you doing, giving keys to a drunk?”

Trey raised his eyebrows and shrugged one large shoulder. A tinge of blame grew in his expression and he mouthed,
“Jumbotron.”

I rolled my eyes. “I said I’m sorry. You spilled crap on my new shoes. We’re even. Right? What do you want now?”

Trey set the now-empty margarita glass down on the granite bar with a clink, and grabbed my arms. I pulled back as far as his cold restraining hands would allow.

“I have a date,” Trey said.

I raised my eyebrows. “To?” Silence. “To the prom? No way. Which one is she? I want to meet her.” I glanced around the room. “Is she from another school? Are you going to her prom too? What’s their theme?”

“Not to prom.”

“Oh.” I glanced back up.

“Tonight. I have a date, tonight.”

“So? You always have a date. I’ve seen you break up with one girl and hook up with another at the same party.” I laughed. “Then get in a fight with her and find a new girl.” I laughed again. “It was amazing. Like three dates in one night. You’re kinda a pro. Or a perv.” I tilted my head as if I was trying to determine which. I realized he could never hold onto a date until spring. He’d be a last minute prom catch.

“About the Sparkle money…”

“Didn’t I already apologize?”

Trey stared at me.

“You can’t really hold a conversation with a drunk. I’ll apologize again Monday, so you can remember it.” I slapped his arm so he’d free one of mine, turned toward Lauren, and waved.

The gesture attracted Ian to us. He wore a light-colored dress shirt. The shape flattered his skinny frame. Good choice.

“Hey. Did you hear about the Jumbotron?” Ian’s pale freckled face held no intended malice, just another barbarian’s one-track focus.

Trey’s pulled me back against his hard chest and put a restraining arm over my ribcage, as if I’d attack Ian physically. The top of my head came somewhere near Trey’s chin. He didn’t smell like Brazil Nut lotion tonight. His cologne smelled expensive, sophisticated. It was a surprise.

“No assaulting my guests,” Trey said against my ear with his deep voice.

I raised my eyebrows and I tilted my chin to look up at him. Trey thought he could save Ian from my Jumbotron-induced wrath. No way. Any jock stupid enough to bring up the topic to me was going to get an earful.

“Trey, you big cheat.”

Our heads swiveled toward a crazy-eyed Zoe. Her wild stare was glued to Trey’s arms around me. Her strong cheerleader hands jerked the pitcher free from the blender. Mad intent showed in every line of her body.

I had nowhere to go and no time to duck.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

Lime and sweet liquor flew from the pitcher. I shoved back into Trey and took the full brunt of the slushy liquid. The icy shock at my front contrasted strongly with the dry warmth at my back and I couldn’t help the squeal. “Ack.” I curved an arm at my waist so the liquid wouldn’t drip into my pants. “Damn it. Trey, look what you did.”

Zoe screeched in the background, but some of her squad mates had pulled her away after the initial throw, so I ignored her. Trey did too. The rest of the party went on around us, like this was a normal occurrence. I grabbed the hem of his dry shirt and rubbed at my waist. “I need a towel.”

Trey took my arm without a word, leading the way upstairs and into a large bedroom. He went to the closet and stared inside with a blank expression.

I headed to an adjacent door and found his bathroom: grey marble tile, dark wood cabinets. I clicked the lock behind me and struggled free from the wet top. Feeling justified, I used his nice hand towels to wipe my chest, my feet, and new sandals.

I smelled like hand soap and the bar at a Mexican restaurant, whereas Trey’s bathroom smelled like his cologne. I checked the dark blue bottle on his counter.
Nice.
Spritz. Better on him, but still nice. After wrapping in a bath towel, I peeped out. “Where’s my shirt?”

No answer.

Trey lay sprawled across his forest green comforter with his forearm over his eyes. I rolled my eyes and went to his closet.

Ooooh. His closet was the size of my bedroom with built-in shoe racks, drawers, tall shelves, low shelves, and a bench. I was so jealous. Taking more time than I should, I hunted through his wardrobe and chose a soft, eggplant colored oxford. I buttoned the sides on over the towel then let the towel drop. The shirt hit mid-thigh.

Man, he was tall. He was lean enough that he didn’t look that tall. I ran a fingertip over the hem. This length would be perfect with leggings. I called through the door, “I’m taking the eggplant one, okay? I’ll give it back at school.”

When I came out, Trey’s hand fell from his face, and he flashed a dimple at me. I hadn’t realized Trey had a dimple. “She had crazy eyes. Right?”

“Yeah. She did. Dad’s probably right. You should let me pick your prom date.”

Trey raised up on his arms. “Prom’s too far away.”

I paced over to him and sat on the edge of his bed. “Not really. Especially with all the planning you have to do. Order a tux, a corsage, your limo.”

Trey’s expression made me laugh. I’d seen one similar on Animal Channel: the face of the hunted.

His bedroom door opened, and John stumbled in, his big body blocking the entry. “Dude. You can’t be up here with Coach’s daughter. That would be like, unlucky, or something.”

Zoe came in behind him, but I could barely see her behind John’s massiveness, just flashes of platinum hair.

Trey stiffened, and his wary look intensified.

“Whore!” Zoe stuck her cell phone around John and snapped a photo of Trey and me.

I shot off the bed, going for her, then stopped. After two seconds, you had no chance of controlling what someone did with a photo. Chasing the photographer was futile.

I glanced from Trey to John. “Like I’d go out with Trey. Do I look stupid?” I waved a hand. “No offence, Trey.”

“How is that not offensive?” John leaned more of his weight against the doorframe.

“There’s nothing wrong with Trey. If some girl…sorry, I’m sure you prefer the term
chick
. If some chick wants a random hookup with a hot guy who won’t say
hi
to her the next day, Trey’s her man.” I shrugged and pushed past John.

Tying the ends of my newly acquired purple shirt in a knot, I made it to the living room to find Lauren. Maybe Aster and I could go shopping for leggings or tights later in the week. While she and Dad wouldn’t last, it would still be nice to add her as a friend.

***

“I now call this Sparkle meeting to order. John, you have the floor.” I sat at Dad’s conference table and prepared for John’s presentation.

“Okay, so here’s what I’ve come up with.” John hit a few keys on his laptop. Images projected onto the wall.

This could be interesting. He had prepared something at least. I straightened.

“You know, they tore down the old stadium last year.” John rubbed his big hands together.

BOOK: Do Over
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