Hard to Get (7 page)

“This is serious,” Becca said, prodding the taffeta mass with one finger.

“Isn't that the point?” Kelly had that challenging note in her voice again. She looked over at me.

I got to my feet. “You're on,” I said immediately.

“Yeah!” she cried and held up her hands for us to slap.

Just then the doorbell rang downstairs. “Oh, hey, it's the pizza.” Kelly started toward the door.

“I'll get it,” I said, elbowing her out of
the way. “Last time, you ate half of it before it got to the kitchen.”

Kelly's mom was weaving down the hallway, her usual martini in her hand. She smiled vaguely through her heavy black mascara. “Having a good time, girls?” she asked, looking past my left shoulder. A trickle of gin dripped onto the thick, cream-colored carpet.

I looked around in case some other girls had materialized behind me. “Yeah, great, Mrs. Meade.” But she was already heading down the hallway, humming to herself, the martini glass tilting dangerously in her hand.

I paid the pizza guy and, balancing the half dozen hot boxes on my hands, headed for the kitchen. On the way back, I cut through the den. Kelly's older brother, Joseph, and a bunch of his friends were sunken deeply into the brown suede couches, playing Halo. The flickering blue and gray lights reflected off their intent faces in the darkened room. Joseph glanced up as I brushed by him.

“Hey, Val!” he greeted me enthusiastically. He slapped the cushion by his side. “There's a controller here waiting for you.”

I took a deep breath. Here was a chance
to practice the GNBP before the official start. I always hung out with Joseph and the guys at Kelly's. He was pretty cute and we'd always had a little back-and-forth flirty thing going on, so this was perfect. With visions of the diamonds glittering from my ears, I arranged my face in a bland, neutral expression.

“Hey,” I muttered. My voice sounded a little strangled. I tried to nod seriously as I edged toward the door.

The other guys glanced up. Curtis, Fuller, Laurence—all seniors, all the sexy soccer types, lean, blond, not too hairy. “Val!” Curtis yelled. “Get over here!” He reached out to pull me down on the couch next to him. I leapt back as if he was covered in lice.

“Whoa! Uh, hi, Curtis!” I backed away. “I mean, hi, Curtis,” I said in a low voice. Did that sound flirty? I stood in front of them awkwardly, my hands dangling at my side. This was hard.

Joseph stared at me curiously. “Hey, is everything okay?” he asked. “You seem kind of …weird.”

“What? No! Weird? I don't know what you're talking about,” I stammered, trying
to keep my face set in the serious, bland expression. I could feel my left eyelid beginning to twitch.

Now all the guys had stopped playing and were staring at me, the game controllers slack in their hands.

“Well, okay!” I said, backing toward the door. “Nice meeting you, Joseph. I mean, seeing you. Wait, um, no, it was
fine
seeing you.” I laughed weakly. “Yeah, that's what I mean, fine. And you guys, too. Fine seeing you, too. Okay! Bye!”

I fled.

Safe in the upstairs hallway, I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and dabbed at the dampness on my upper lip. If that scene was a harbinger of my new life, I might not survive junior year. But whatever. That was only practice. I'd be fine.

By eight, everything was set. The pizza had been successfully guarded from Joseph and the guys, and Becca and I were stationed by the front door. I had decided I needed all the help I could get, so I was wearing my dullest outfit: plain gray T-shirt, khakis, no jewelry, flip-flops. No makeup, just ChapStick. I pulled my hair into a ponytail. When I looked in the
foyer mirror, I almost fell asleep, I looked so boring.

Becca, on the other hand, looked like a dark-haired Gwyneth Paltrow or something. She was wearing a silky cream-colored tank top with a draped front, black capri leggings, and sequin-encrusted cream ballet flats. Giant silver hoops dangled from her ears, almost brushing her shoulders. I felt like a third-grader standing next to her.

“Oh my God, I'm so excited!” Kelly squealed from the top of the stairs. She was wearing a black tank dress and espadrilles that laced halfway up her calves, and of course, she looked amazing too, like those surfer girls who were always posing with their boards on the beach.

“Val, stop fidgeting,” Becca said. She leaned closer to the hall mirror and swiped her lips with MAC Lipglass, carefully blotting the edges with a forefinger.

“I can't help it,” I muttered, wiping my sweaty palms on my khakis for the millionth time. “This is going to be weird.”

Becca looked at me in the mirror. “Don't chicken out, Val.” Behind her, Kelly paused on the bottom step, listening.

“No, of course not,” I declared, forcing
myself to stop fiddling with my ponytail. “You know I wouldn't do that. I haven't even started yet.”

“Good,” Becca said. She closed the lip gloss tube with a snap and tossed it into her bag.

“I don't know, Val.” Kelly came forward. “It's hard to believe you're actually going to get through an entire night and not flirt with anyone, even
once
.”

I swallowed. Just then, the doorbell rang. From behind the frosted glass of the door, I could see a cluster of shadowy figures. I took a deep breath. “Look, remember who you're talking to, girls. The GNBP is going to be awesome. And I'm in it to the end, of course.”

“What's up, Val?” Brent yelled, as I opened the door. He and Logan stood on the porch, with a little knot of people behind him clutching bags of chips and six-packs of Coke. Brent stepped into the foyer and reached out to give me his usual bear hug.

I backed up quickly, bumping into Kelly, who caught my arm. “Hi, Brent.” I kept my voice neutral, but my mind was buzzing.
Okay, Brent, let's see … Kelly's boyfriend. Attached. So therefore, not a GNBP
threat. Okay to hug,
my GNBP computer advised. I reached out to hug Brent back, but he had already brushed past me into the living room. I must have looked confused because Kelly patted my arm.

“Okay?” she asked.

I nodded tentatively. Then I forced a big smile. “Fine!” I said brightly.

By eleven o'clock, Kelly's was packed with everyone I knew from school and a whole bunch I didn't. The Killers were wailing from the iPod dock on the coffee table, and Kelly's nacho dip—this time made without help from the fire department—was taking a serious beating. A huge red-faced guy yanked open the doors leading to the patio.

“Out of my way!” he yelled. He lowered his head and ran full speed through the doorway, pumping his arms like an Olympic sprinter. From my position by the drinks table, I could just glimpse the back of his shirt disappearing in a splash of water as he jumped, fully clothed, into the pool.

About two feet away, a couple I didn't recognize was stretched full-length on a wide leather sofa. The girl kept trying to kiss the guy's neck, but he was concentrating
on stuffing chips into his mouth while lying down. I personally might find that a turnoff, but the girl apparently didn't. As I watched, she abandoned her efforts to give him the world's biggest hickey and instead focused on unbuttoning his shirt.

I turned back to the drinks table, which already looked like someone had driven a truck over it, and poked around for a clean cup, finally finding a few hiding under a pile of spilled corn chips.

“Val!”

I turned around. Kelly was standing behind me, clutching a bona fide Greek god by the sleeve. He looked like he could have been carved from marble.

“This is Craig,” Kelly said. “He goes to Our Lady of Mercy.”

“Wow, hi, Val.” The god smiled devastatingly.

I wasn't sure exactly what the “wow” was for since I wasn't
feeling
particularly “wow,” but hey, maybe this guy was into the boring look.

“Hey,” I replied. I couldn't help smiling at him in return.

Kelly released the Greek god's arm as if planting him there and took a step back.

“Can I get you a drink, Val?” the god asked. He was standing so close I could smell his Acqua di Parma cologne. And let me tell you, it wasn't at all unpleasant.

“Sure,” I murmured, looking into his eyes. I could feel a little smile creeping over my lips.

He reached over and gently took the plastic cup from my hand, then slowly filled it with Diet Coke from an almost-empty two liter. He handed the brimming cup of soda to me along with another blinding white grin.

“Thanks,” I murmured, accepting the cup and automatically edging closer to him. I smiled into his big brown eyes. “Are you going to have a drink too?” I asked, raising my eyebrows a little and curling the edges of my mouth up in a way that never failed.

“Sure,” he breathed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kelly standing a few feet away, watching the two of us intently and grinning widely. In the back of my mind, a little alarm bell rang faintly, but the presence of the living, breathing deity was just too distracting.

I sipped from the cup and then offered
it to the god. He was just reaching out his hand when a voice exploded in my ear.

“Hey there!”

I jumped and dropped the cup of soda, which splashed all over the Greek god's Diesel jeans, spreading a large wet patch over his crotch—a really unfortunate place for a stain.

“Crap!” he yelled, jumping back. Becca was standing next to me, apparently having shot up through the floor, breathing like she'd just run a 5K. She looked from the Greek god, now gazing hopelessly at his
sopping pants, to me standing wide-eyed with my fingers still clutched in the shape of the cup.

“Val!” Becca exclaimed. “What are you doing?” She stared at me hard, her eyebrows raised.

“Uh,” I stammered. “Um, doing?” Darn it! Three hours into the GNBP and I was already screwing it up. Next to her, Kelly had dropped the Cheshire cat grin and was mopily scraping dirty cups into a trash bag.

“Yes,” Becca enunciated.
“Doing.”

“Oh!
Doing!
” I glanced at the Greek god. “Right. Um, nothing?” I bared my teeth at her ingratiatingly.

“That's right.” She nodded, taking me by the arm. “Nothing is the right answer. Come on—look, C.J. has just gotten here and she's wearing the sluttiest shirt you've ever seen. Let's go laugh at her.” She steered me across the room, then hissed, “What the heck was going on? If that wasn't flirting, then I'm Madame Curie.”

“I know, I know,” I told her, dropping onto the leather sofa, now vacated by the hickey couple. “I totally didn't even realize what was going on until you showed up. I was just going on automatic.”

“You can't just
forget
,” Becca emphasized, her eyes wide. “You have to get through a whole semester!”

“I
know
,” I said.

She switched gears. “You're just getting started.” She patted my shoulder encouragingly. “It'll get easier.”

“Yeah. Or something.”

Becca hoisted herself off the sofa. “I think Logan is getting lonely. Look, he's starting to fall asleep.” I followed her pointing finger across the room to see Logan stretched out in an easy chair, his arms crossed on his chest and his eyes half-lidded.

“You'd better go rescue him,” I said.

“I know. See you later.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze.

I followed her figure across the room and saw her tap Logan on the shoulder, then bend down and whisper something in his ear. His eyes suddenly widened and a huge grin spread across his face. Becca reached down and pulled him up. They pushed open the patio doors. I could hear Becca giggling as they disappeared into the shadows next to the pool.

All around me, groups of people were dancing, talking, draped over furniture. Voices floated in from the patio. From the kitchen, I could hear the blender going and Kelly's voice shouting, “No, Brent! Not the guacamole!”

“Hi, Val,” a masculine voice said near my ear. I jumped, knocking my funny bone against the couch arm.

“Ow! Hi … um, Randolph?” I massaged my throbbing elbow.

The pleasant-looking brown-haired guy in front of me nodded. “I gave you some M&M's? In your locker?”

“Oh, right …” I ever so slightly started scooting away from him. He sat down next to me on the sofa. Apparently, Randolph didn't take hints very well.

“So, I heard you broke up with Dave Strauss,” he began, but before he could continue, a familiar figure approached from across the room.

“Hey, Val, I've been looking everywhere for you!” Kevin lumbered up, grinning and sweating as usual.

“Ah, hi, Kevin.” I got to my feet and looked around the crowded room for the nearest exit. Groups stood everywhere, blocking my path to the door. Randolph frowned at the interruption. I started backing away, only to bump into the back of a guy standing nearby.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. He turned around. It was Travis Gosdin, with Brian North next to him. Big smiles lit up their faces.

“What's up, Val?” they said in unison.

“I didn't even see you here before.” Brian stuck his hand in his pocket and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper. “Hey, this is an invite to this dance my youth group is having next Saturday. Do you think you want to go with me?”

I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, Kevin elbowed his way in front of me, his brow lowering dangerously. “Hey, punk, she's going to
my
party on
Saturday. Right, Val? The one I told you about in the hall?”

I looked from one face to the other. This situation was getting slightly out of control.

“I—um, actually, I'm not going—” I was cut off by a tug on my arm.

“Val,” Randolph whispered. “I was going to tell you that our lake house is really amazing and—”