Pivot Point (13 page)

“What do you think?” Trevor asks. Rowan holds up the plate for me to inspect.

“Oh. Yeah, cool. Better than I thought we’d be able to find.”

Stephanie snaps a picture that I wasn’t ready for. “Let’s go.”

“Thanks, Addison’s dad,” Rowan says on our way out the door.

My dad waves and says, “Don’t miss curfew, Addie.”

“I won’t.”

Rowan holds the plate in the air as we walk toward the car. “We may not win,” he says as though speaking to a crowd, “but we’ll lose with style.” We climb into the car, and he punches the back of Trevor’s headrest. “That should’ve been the theme of your last game, Trev.”

“That’s a horrible theme,” Stephanie says. “The theme should’ve been ‘Revenge will be ours. Cheaters never win.’”

“But they did win,” Rowan says.

“I mean in the end. Karma.”

“Cheaters?” I ask.

“Don’t get him started.” Trevor glances over his shoulder and then pulls out onto the road.

“Yes, cheaters,” Rowan says. Obviously I had gotten him started. “Trevor was taken out of last season because a couple of guys sacked him after the whistle. It was a dirty play.”

“Did they get punished?” I ask.

“One flag—five-yard penalty. Five yards!”

“It was actually fifteen,” Trevor says.

“Whatever. It was garbage! But we’ll have our revenge.” He shakes his fist in the air in a dramatic fashion. “We play their school not this Friday but next.”

“What school?” I almost want to take back the question because I’m afraid to hear the answer.

Stephanie turns around in her seat to face me. “Lincoln High.”

My cheeks go numb and my eyes slide to Trevor’s in the rearview mirror.

“They’re really good. Have you heard of them?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

“They’re not that good,” Stephanie says, patting Trevor’s shoulder. “They’re not as good as you are.”

“Was,” Rowan says. “As he
was
.”

“As he’s going to be again,” Stephanie says.

Trevor’s eyes drop for a split second before he gives her a small smile.

Rowan starts sniffing the granola bars. “Is it weird that I want to eat these chocolate-drizzled pieces of cardboard?”

Trevor laughs too loud over the not-that-funny comment. “No. Not at all.” I sense that he’s grateful for the subject change.

Back at the theater, when the other team shows up with half of a layered chocolate cake that has my mouth watering with a single look, I know we’re doomed.

PAR•[A]•dy
:
n.
a poor imitation

Away from Duke, all the doubts creep in. I go between feelings of elation that Duke kissed me to feelings of suspicion. Driving to school Monday morning, my stomach tightens to knots. Since I’m still grounded, despite my mom’s thaw, we haven’t seen each other since Friday—the blue streak in my hair still as blue as ever. I’m not sure what happens next. Does he expect me to hang out with him? Are we together now?

I pull into a parking space, and a football hits my windshield, causing me to jump. My car door opens before I even have a chance to shut off the engine. I unbuckle my seat belt and reach for my backpack. Finally I glance up at him. He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet and into a hug. “Hey.”

“Hi.” I smile. “Will you cool it with the football assaults? You’re making me jumpy.”

“It’s kind of my signature now.” He nuzzles his face into my neck, and I close my eyes and relax into him. “Besides, it’s how I snagged you, so I can’t stop now.”

“Snagged me?” I’m not a fan of the description.

“Yeah. Heads up. Remember?” He pulls away, gives me a quick kiss, and then retrieves the football off the ground by my tire.

I shut the car door and adjust my backpack on my shoulder. “Yes. I remember. You did that on purpose?”

He nods proudly. “Of course I did that on purpose. I wanted to meet you. But I didn’t mean for it to actually hit you. I honestly thought you would duck.”

I smile. “Well, I never claimed to be coordinated.”

He grabs my hand as we walk. “Why don’t we have any classes together?”

“Probably because you’re a senior and I’m a junior,” I say.

Two girls leaning against the first row of lockers say, “Hey, Duke.” He waves, and then the girls add, “Hi, Addie.” My gaze, which had barely registered their presence before, now zeros in on them, waiting for recognition. It doesn’t come.

Duke squeezes my hand, and I say, “Oh, hi,” just before we pass them.

By the time we get to my locker, two more people say hi to both of us. A surge of pride fills my chest and I’m annoyed by its presence. I never cared what people thought of me before.

“I’d better go before I’m late for meditation.”

“Addie, are you embarrassed by me?” he asks, pulling me close.

“Embarrassed by you? Yeah right. The hottest guy in school is hugging me, and I’m embarrassed by him.”

“Why is your face red then?”

Because I’m irritated that I’m a fan of all this attention.
“Because I’m not exactly an advocate of PDA.”

“Well, after today you’re going to have to be really vigilant to keep the rumors away.” He pushes me against a locker and starts to kiss my cheek.

I don’t know why my eyes sting with frustrated tears. But then his hands are on my shoulders and his kisses become soft and sweet so that by the time his lips cover mine, my anxiety has melted away. My hands go to his chest, where I grab two fistfuls of his shirt and pull him closer.

“I thought you didn’t want to be late,” he says against my lips.

I ignore him for a couple more blissful moments and then push him away and run, leaving him laughing in my wake.

At lunch, I meet Laila at our normal place, not sure what girlfriend protocol is. I’m not even sure I am his girlfriend.

“Well, hello, Mrs. Rivers,” she says. “I didn’t think I’d see you alone.”

I hoist myself up onto the stage and then pull my lunch out of my backpack. The grass around the stage is purple today, one of our school’s colors, but it doesn’t make me feel even a hint of school spirit. The people sitting on it seem bland against the bright background. “Yeah, well, just because we kissed doesn’t mean I’m going to turn into a starstruck fangirl and follow him around like a puppy would. I’m still me.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me that even now that you’re together, you’re not going to admit you have the hots for him?”

“The hots?”

“Yes, the hots. You are so into Duke Rivers that you can’t even think straight. I want you to admit that out loud, and I want you to tell me that I was right all along.”

I see Duke walking across the grass toward us, looking anything but bland. He smiles and waves to people as he goes. His blond hair seems to reflect the sun and create a halo of light around his face. He catches my eye, and his smile widens. “You were right,” I say to Laila. “I totally have the hots for Duke Rivers.”

She laughs.

“Hey, Blue Eyes,” he says, when he’s in front of me.

Laila clears her throat. “I’m not going to gag on my lunch if I stick around, am I?”

He turns to her. “No. And actually I was hoping you ladies would accompany me off-campus for lunch.”

“But we’re juniors,” I say, maintaining my seat as Laila hops up, ready to go without question. Going off-campus for lunch is a senior privilege.

“Don’t worry, we won’t get in trouble. I have an in with the parking-lot guard.” He grabs my brown-bag lunch off my lap, wads it into a ball—food and all—and sends it flying into a trash can twenty feet away.

“Hey. I could’ve saved that for later.”

He holds up his hand. “Do you want me to get it back?”

“Gross. No.”

When Duke said he had an “in” with the guard, he just meant that, like always, he could sweet talk anyone “
in
to” anything. Five minutes later, Duke pulls into the parking lot of a local burger joint called Fat Jacks, and right away, through the large wall of windows, I see tables full of seniors from school.

“You didn’t tell us we were meeting people,” I say. It looks like the whole football team is in there, plus the cheerleading squad.

“Bring it on,” Laila says softly. Like a predator, she scans the fresh meat through the window, picking out her prey. I laugh. As we walk toward the door, I notice Bobby sitting at a corner table and I immediately stop, squeezing Duke’s hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Bobby’s here.”

“It’s okay, he already knows. He’s cool with us.”

But I’m not cool with him
, is what I want to say, but Laila is already holding open the door.

“Duke,” the guy grilling burgers calls out when we walk in.

“Hey, Ernie! You comin’ to the game Friday night?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

To me Duke says, “Go find a seat, and I’ll order for us.”

“Cool.” Laila marches straight over, and I follow.

“Hey, Ray,” she says, sitting at an open table next to him.

Ray looks up, seeming pleasantly surprised to see Laila. “Hey, ladies.” He raises his hand, and the ketchup bottle flies off our table and hits his open palm with a loud smack that makes me jump. “Welcome.” He opens the ketchup and pours it on his fries. When he’s done, he looks right at me. “Clairvoyant, right?”

Duke must’ve told him my ability. “Sort of.”

“Awesome,” Ray says. “Tell me my future.”

I want to tell him not to look so impressed. My ability may be rare, but it can only help me.

“I’ll tell you your future.” Duke sits down and sets a basket of fries in the center of the table. “It’s in the end zone, gripping a football.”

Ray nods. “Yes!”

I offer Duke a thankful smile, and he rubs one hand down my back, then holds up his other hand and says, “Ketchup.” The bottle flies back over. After he pours some on his fries, he says, “Smile, I’m about to embarrass you.”

“Please don’t.” But before I even finish the words, Duke stands and says, “Everyone, this is Addie, my girlfriend, and her best friend, Laila. Introduce yourselves when you get a chance.” Again with the surge of pride at the word
girlfriend
. When did other people’s opinions of me start to matter so much?

I give a halfhearted wave. Laila says, “Hey.”

Duke sits back down and kisses my cheek, but when the guy behind the counter calls out the order, he pops back up again. I feel like I’m in an alternate universe when Bobby sits down next to Laila and across from me at the table.

“Hi, my name is Bobby,” he says sarcastically. “Welcome to the group. At least for the next couple weeks.”

Laila’s fists, resting on the tabletop, tighten. But before she can punch him out, which I have no doubt she is about to do, Duke sits down with our burgers and sodas.

“Bobby,” he says, and they do a “cool guy” fist-bump thing.

“Hey. Addie and I were getting caught up.”

“Good,” Duke says. “I hope everything is cool with you two.”

Bobby gives a sly smile and says, “Of course.”

My heart pounds in a mixture of anxiety and frustration. I pick up my burger and try to ignore my heart—it’s been too opinionated lately anyway.

Between Ray and Bobby, the entire lunch hour turns into a who-has-the-best-story-about-Duke showdown. Apparently he was the king of toilet-papering houses and helping himself to people’s pools at midnight.

“Telekinetics make the best TPers,” Ray says. He imitates throwing a roll of toilet paper. “We get a nice arch …”

“And then send it even higher,” Duke finishes for him.

“Pff,”
Bobby says. “But you can’t get it
through
walls.”

“Wait,” I say. “This was recently? I thought these were little-kid stories. But these are post-ability pranks? Wow. So mature.”

“Hey. We were freshmen. We hadn’t quite mastered poise and sophistication yet,” Duke says with a laugh.

Laila clears her throat, and I anticipate her sarcastic remark about how they still haven’t, when instead she says, “Look who just walked in.”

Duke and I glance over our shoulders and see Poison.

“Who is that?” Bobby asks.

“A huge loser,” Laila informs him. She gets a sparkle in her eye that I don’t like. “I’ll be right back.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

“If he looks out the window, distract him.”

“What?” I’m confused, but she’s already halfway to the door.

Poison orders food, and I watch Laila scan the parking lot, then spot his car and swiftly walk to it. She reaches up to her hair and must’ve pulled out a bobby pin because when she gets to his car, she kneels down and unscrews the tire cap.

Duke laughs. “She’s letting the air out of his tires.”

At the counter, Poison is just finishing his order. He’s seconds away from turning around and having a full view of Laila at his car. I grab a soda off the table, jump up, and walk around behind him. As he turns, I slam into him and let the cup smash between us, sending ice and soda all over. I didn’t think about the fact that the front of my shirt would end up soaked, but it does the trick.

He lets off a string of cusswords.

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

He meets my eyes, and I don’t know if he recognizes me from Laila’s house or if he just realizes that I’m a teenager and undeserving of his verbal abuse, but his expression softens. “It’s not a big deal,” he says gruffly. “Just watch where you’re going.”

“Yeah, I will.” Not sure if Laila is done yet, I grab a stack of napkins off the counter and start wiping his shirt.

“I’m good,” he says, and storms to the bathroom.

The man behind the counter is staring at the mess on the floor.

“Sorry,” I say, about to drop down and use the napkins there.

“It’s okay. I’ll get the mop.”

My shirt is wet, and my face and arms are sticky. When I turn back around, Duke is smiling. “Good one,” he says as I sit down.

“What was that all about?” Ray asks Duke.

I give Duke a look that I hope tells him not to air Laila’s dirty laundry, and he says, “Oh, nothing, that guy just cut us off on the road earlier.”

I pull my wet shirt away from my skin. “I’m going to need to change.”

He unzips his backpack and whips out a purple jersey with the name Rivers across the back in gold print.