Love Match (13 page)

Cleo had been trying to dig up all the dirt she could find on the guy, but it was useless. No one knew anything about him beyond his blog.

“All clear.” Maya brushed the grass from her jeans as she got off the ground.

Cleo picked a leaf out of her friend's hair. “This is annoying.”

“Down!” Maya yelled through clenched teeth.

They both dropped. It was becoming second nature.

“Beyond annoying,” Cleo said. “That thing on the Wall was a week ago.”

Maya took out her phone. She was afraid to look, but she knew there would be an answer online. “Nothing new on the Wall.”

“Thank heaven for small favors.” Cleo took the phone from her friend, typing on the little keypad on the screen. “Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“Grant Adams put some kind of bounty on my head,” Cleo said as she stood. When she handed the phone back to Maya, the screen was blank.

Maya wanted to look, but she knew Cleo would kill her if she did. “Cleo!”

Cleo dropped to the ground again out of habit.

“No,” Maya said. “I mean, tell me what you're talking about!”

Cleo let out an exaggerated sigh as she got back up. “Nothing big. He posted a photo contest. The person who gets a picture of me in the craziest outfit wins an online interview from Grant.”

“What kind of prize is that?”

“Only the best prize ever.” Cleo continued walking toward the football field. “He knows where I go to school. Every student in this place would kill for that kind of exposure. Not just the golfers.”

Maya still had the Esteban scarf she'd borrowed from Renee. She took it from around her neck and opened it up to its full size. “Here, wrap yourself in this.”

Cleo held out a hand, but stopped herself before she took the scarf. “No. I'm not going to let some stuffy old dude win. If I'm going to be me, I'm going to be me.”

Cleo took her own cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans and held the camera out at arm's length, lining her body up in the screen.

Maya grabbed the phone. “What are you doing?”

“I'm giving Grant a good shot of me,” she replied. “Or maybe I should wait. I have
much
better things in my closet. I could probably put something together that gives him a heart attack.”

“You can't play his game,” Maya said.

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, do you want him to have your e-mail address or phone number when you send the picture?”

“Good point. Besides, what does it matter? I think he's got me pretty covered.” Cleo tipped her head to the side as she spoke.

Maya followed the tilt of Cleo's head to see a guy with a camera phone pointed at them. It didn't end there. About a half-dozen cell phones were aimed in their direction. Grant Adams's photo contest was bad enough, but the fact that their classmates would sell out one of their own for a little free publicity really upset Maya.

Cleo was right. There was nothing they could do about it, short of wrapping Cleo in a blanket as she walked from class to class. That wasn't the answer to anything. Although Maya was tempted to drape that Esteban scarf over her own head so she didn't appear on any more blogs.

Maya was surprised to see Renee waiting for them outside the football field. “It's about time you two got here,” Renee said. “What took you so long?”

“We had to stop and pose for a dozen photos on the way,” Cleo replied.

“And we didn't know you were waiting,” Maya added. “What are you doing here?”

“Cleo told me about the text,” Renee said. “Sounded intriguing.”

Maya shot a glare at her friend. “Thanks, Cleo.”

Cleo smiled brightly. “No problem!”

Renee grabbed Maya's arm and pulled her toward the field. “Are we sitting in the spot reserved for girlfriends today?”

“No!” Maya said. That was the last thing she needed. She'd done that before and once was enough. “No girlfriend spot. We're sitting in the bleachers. The very top of the bleachers. Behind a pillar, if possible.”

Renee shook her head. “You're no fun.”

“Not as fun as Cleo, apparently,” Maya said as a few more camera clicks followed them to the stands. The word was out. Everyone wanted a shot of Cleo, which was just silly at this point. A couple hundred photos of Cleo in the same outfit weren't going to win anything.

“Oh, shut up,” Cleo said.

Heads continued to turn as the three girls made their way up to the top of the bleachers. Maya wanted to credit the interest to Cleo, but she knew some of it was for her as well. No matter where she sat, Maya wasn't fooling anyone. They knew she was there to see one of the Reed brothers. They all wanted to know which one.

Both brothers looked good. Travis was in control as quarterback, guiding his teammates down the field. He was a study
of perfection and control. Maya had learned enough about football to hold her own in a conversation, and even she was blown away by how Travis managed his plays.

Jake was the real surprise, though. His game was very un-Jake-like. And that was a good thing.

The first time Maya came by to watch a practice, Jake incited a lawsuit with his aggressive play and a move that injured one of his classmates. That Jake wasn't on the field. Jake 2.0 played with far more control than she'd seen in him before. He looked more like his brother than ever.

Maya didn't have a chance to see too much since the coach called the scrimmage to an end shortly after she arrived. Maya planned to stay on the bleachers and wait for Travis to come out of the locker room and tell her what he needed to say. By then, most of the spectators would be gone, taking their camera phones with them. Travis threw a major wrench into that plan when he came to the sideline and waved his arms at her like she was a million miles away.

She only wished she were a million miles away at that moment.

“I think Travis has seen you,” Cleo said. “But I could be wrong.”

Maya reluctantly stood. If she ignored him, that would only make it worse.

Cleo and Renee stood along with her.

“Stop!” Maya said. “Sit! Stay!”

The girls did as they were told. Maya had enough of an audience. She didn't need her friends along when Travis said what he wanted to say to her.

Heads turned again as she made the long walk down the bleachers. Her supposedly invisible seat in the back row meant she had even farther to walk while everyone stared. She could feel the eyes of the dozens of students following her every step. She focused on Travis's eyes instead. That, and the fact that Jake's eyes had disappeared into the locker room without even a backward glance.

“I'd give you a hug, but I'm kind of sweaty,” Travis said once she was closer.

“I see that.” Maya saw a lot of him in his tight muscle shirt.

“You got my text?”

Maya thought that was pretty obvious. Unless he was hoping she'd stopped by to see him on a whim. Suddenly, she felt bad about not doing that sooner. “Yeah.”

Travis's eyes now looked uncertain. “Something huge has happened.”

“Huge good or huge bad?”

“Huge awesome,” Travis replied. “I booked a guest spot on
The Hype
.”

“
The Hype
?” she asked. “On SNC?
That Hype
?”

Travis's lips broke into the winning grin that was so much like his dad's. The only difference was that Travis's smile didn't reach his eyes. He was happy, but wary. “Yes.
That Hype
.”

“Travis, that
is
awesome!” Maya wrapped him in a congratulatory hug. His after-practice glow didn't matter.
The Hype
was one of the Sports News Channel's most popular shows. For an amateur—a
high school student
—to appear as a guest was the hugest of the huge. Which is why Maya was nervous that she couldn't feel him hugging her back.

“What is it?”

“They're flying me to New York to shoot the segment.”

“Okay.”

“On … Friday.”

“Oh.” The same day as their photo shoot for Esteban's sportswear line.

“Dad's trying to get the shoot moved,” he quickly said. “He's working every angle. If anyone can get it switched, it would be him.”

Maya couldn't help but notice that Nails wasn't working on getting Travis's appearance on
The Hype
moved, considering the Esteban ad had come first.

“And if he can't?” Maya asked.

“I made a commitment to the Esteban campaign,” Travis said. “And to you.”

“To me?”

“I know how important this shoot is,” he said. “I don't want to risk messing it up for you … money being tight and all.”

Was he only doing the shoot for Maya? Of course an appearance on
The Hype
was more important to his career than some fashion shoot. College recruiters and NFL coaches watched the Sports News Channel. They didn't tend to be impressed by fashion ads when making their player selections.

Considering how many of their classmates were willing to sell out Cleo for an interview with a golf blogger, most of them would probably commit murder to appear on
The Hype
.

“Travis,” she said, “you have to go on
The Hype
. You can't miss that kind of opportunity for an ad campaign.”

“I will in a second,” he said. “If you want me to.”

If you want me to?
Would he really blow off the opportunity for her? That was nice, but how could he put that on her?

Just because Travis pulled out of the shoot didn't mean that it would be canceled. Or that Maya would be out as well. They were two different people. But she couldn't shake the feeling that they'd been hired as a couple, whether or not they actually were a couple at the time. Or now even. They really did have to have that conversation at some point.

If she stood in the way of Travis's opportunity for that press, they might never have the chance to be a couple again. Nails would see to that. He could make life very difficult for Maya if he felt she was standing in the way of his son's success.

There really wasn't a decision to make, when she thought about it. All she could do was go along, and hope that everything worked out.

“Of course you should do it,” she said. “You'd be an idiot not to.”

And yet, in that moment, Maya was the one who felt like the fool.

It didn't help that when she turned to the bleachers, she saw that the stands were still full of people who'd stuck around to watch the postgame show.

“I'm on it.”
That was how Jordan answered the phone. No wasting time with pleasantries. She cut right to the chase.
“I've already got a couple calls in to the agency. Sit tight. I'll get back to you.”

And she was gone.

That was the sum total of the conversation Maya had had with Jordan two days ago. There was no hand-holding, no reassurances that Maya still had the job, no indications that there was any backup plan at all if one of them dropped out of the shoot as Travis had.

Maya hadn't heard anything from Jordan or Travis and the shoot was the next day. At least, she hoped it was still the next day.

She wanted to call Jordan back. She wanted to pester the agent until she heard something. But Maya had that unsigned agreement in front of her. She figured she didn't have any
right to expect the agent to make her a priority if Maya couldn't even decide if she wanted Jordan to represent her.

“Here we go again,” Cleo said from her computer.

Maya was afraid to ask. “Grant Adams?”

“Yep.”

“Did he find a winner for the worst outfit?”

“Not yet,” Cleo said. “This is worse than a picture. He's going after me on something new. He's got a whole write-up here on how I've completely turned my back on my heritage.”

“WHAT?!”

Maya was off her bed and leaning over Cleo's shoulder. Grant Adams really did a number on her this time. It was one thing to make fun of Cleo's clothes. She dressed like she didn't care what other people thought, so it was only natural that people felt it was their duty to tell her what they thought. But this messed with her family.

The article went to great lengths to examine how “Americanized” Cleo had become, from her clothes, to her friends, to the fact that she didn't go by her real name, Li Sun, anymore. The blog was filled with pictures of her on campus and out on the town doing things a typical teen would do with friends. None of it was scandalous until Grant Adams put his small-minded spin on every image. Suddenly a picture of her eating a hot dog opened up a discourse on national pride.

Even worse, the photos came from all over. Their classmates had been busy this week invading Cleo's privacy. Maya was going to have to talk to Travis about getting his father to make some kind of ban on cell-phone photos around the
school. No one should be put through this kind of cyberstalking.

Maya expected Cleo to scream and throw things, promising revenge. It was much scarier that she got very, very quiet. It broke Maya's heart to see a tear drop from her friend's eye. Cleo didn't get sad. She got angry. Very angry.

Maya rested a hand on Cleo's shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Cleo said. “But I'm going to do something about it. I just don't know what. Yet.”

Maya hated to leave Cleo, but there wasn't anything more she could do. They'd spent an hour discussing ways to get back at Grant Adams, but came up with nothing. When the text from Travis came through telling Maya that he couldn't move the shoot, Cleo insisted that Maya go talk to him and see what was up.

“I'm so sorry,” Travis said the moment Maya walked into Ground Rules, the coffee shop halfway between the football field and the dorms. Travis had slipped out of practice to talk to her, which was uncharacteristic of him. He had to meet somewhere he could get back before he was missed.