The Queen B* and the Homecoming King

BOOK: The Queen B* and the Homecoming King
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Table of Contents

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Letter to Readers

Books by Crista McHugh

The Queen B* and the Homecoming King

The Queen B*, Book 3

by Crista McHugh

Chapter One

 

I’d never greeted a Monday morning with dozens of giddy butterflies in my stomach. Usually, I reserved my most dramatic sighs and biting comments for Mondays because—let’s face it—they suck. But this Monday morning was different.

I, Alexis Wyndham, was officially Brett Pederson’s girlfriend.

But I still wasn’t ready to announce that to the world.

As we floated in a canoe among
the water lilies in Lake Washington yesterday, I laid down a few ground rules to help me ease into this unprecedented (and unimaginable) situation. After all, it’s not every day the Queen B* and the Quarterback become a couple. Dropping that bomb on our classmates could cause a rift in the space-time continuum.

Or at least cause my nemesis, Summer Hoyt, to have one very public and dramatic meltdown.

Rule number one: I refused to be one of those disgustingly cute couples that were joined at the hip between classes. We were dating, not merging our lives and identities into a single life-form. Brett had his group of friends and I had mine, and until recently, they never intertwined because I despised most of the in-crowd. If I hadn’t gotten to know the real Brett during a class project, I would’ve
continued to write him off as a dumb jock.

Lesson learned, but still…

Rule number two: no public displays of affection at school. Not that I had any problem with PDAs with Brett. I liked kissing him. But I also had been known to lose control when I was with him…and lose articles of clothing. And after having that awkward run-in with my mom and her boyfriend’s PDA on our living room couch last
week, I’d rather not make a spectacle of myself in front of everyone. It opened up the doors to ridicule.

Rule number three: I wouldn’t go to Homecoming with Brett. I’d made it this far through high school without plunging into that cheesy sea of balloons and crepe paper while wearing a silly sequin-laden dress, and I wasn’t going to cross that line during my senior year.

I had the hardest
time getting Brett to agree to rule number three, and I had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t give up on trying to convince me to go with him, especially since the dance was less than two weeks away. And since Brett was the school’s football hero, he was sure to be crowned Homecoming King.

Which meant I’d have to endure watching him stand next to Summer, who was sure to be crowned Homecoming Queen
during the same little ceremony at the dance.

It’s not that I was jealous or anything. I trusted Brett. I just didn’t like the idea of her getting anywhere near him, especially since she was a spoiled brat used to getting her way. And that might be the only reason I’d consider going to the dance—to make sure she knew he was with me.

“Taylor, I swear if you don’t stop primping and come downstairs,
I’m leaving without you.” I had shouted for my little sister to hurry up at least five times already this morning. Apparently she’d lost her ride to school due to a dispute over shoes, which meant she had to ride with me.

I was rolling down the driveway when she finally dashed out of the house, makeup bag in hand. “Geez, you could’ve given me a little more time,” she snapped as she jumped in
my car. “School doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah, and it takes ten minutes to get there, I don’t know how long to find a parking spot, and then we still have to run to class.”

I hated being late almost as much as I hated running or any other activity that was reserved for gym class.

Taylor rolled her eyes before carefully applying another coat of mascara. “You’re blowing this
way out of proportion.”

“I already have one tardy on my record this year.” From the morning I’d slept through my alarm after being up all night with Junior, the computerized baby from hell. “I don’t want another.”

“It’s not a big deal.” She shoved her mascara back in her bag and fished around for a tube of lipstick. “Besides, I want to know what happened between you and Brett yesterday.”

Of
course she did. That way, she could decide how much intel to pass on to Summer and how to twist the information in her own favor. The tighter Taylor continued to be among the head cheerleader’s inner circle of friends, the stronger her chances of being named Summer’s heir on the squad.

“We picked up my car from the U-District,” I began, not sure of how much to reveal. Saturday night could’ve
been a complete disaster if it hadn’t been for Brett’s intervention. I’d made the mistake of going out with a complete douchebag who’d tried to take advantage of me after I’d drunk too much at a frat party. Luckily, Brett had come to the rescue. “And then we went on a date.”

Taylor’s eyes widened, and she perked up. “Are you two a couple now?”

I bit my bottom lip. Even though I’d set up those
ground rules with Brett, I couldn’t hide the fact that we were going out. And part of me wanted people to know that out of all the girls in our school, he had chosen me. “I guess you could say that.”

“Oh. My. God.” Taylor slumped back against the seat and stared blankly out the front window for about thirty seconds before a devious grin curled her lips. “This is going to be so epic.”

Would it?
Or was I just opening the door to more trouble? I’d resisted my feelings for Brett for so long because I feared making myself vulnerable to him. After the way Summer had publicly humiliated me in sixth grade by reading my diary aloud to everyone, I’d pushed almost everyone away and hidden behind my cold, hard persona of the school’s mean girl. But Brett had managed to break through my outer shell
and see the real me, and after weeks of getting to know him, I’d learned to trust him.

Today, however, would be when the real test began. It was one thing to sneak around and see each other outside of school. It was another thing to take our relationship public. Hence, my rules.

The parking lot was every bit the nightmare I’d expected at this time of the morning. Taylor scampered out of my Prius
as soon as we got on campus, leaving me behind to find a parking spot. No wonder she wasn’t worried about being late for class. I managed to find a spot three minutes before the first bell. Of course, I would’ve gotten one sooner if Sanchez hadn’t cut me off and grabbed the first spot I’d found. As much as I wanted to start my day with a few words with my new boyfriend, I only had time to wave
to him from down the hall as I performed the dreaded dash for class, safely sliding into my seat as the final bell rung.

My phone buzzed, and I sneaked a peek at the message on my screen.

See you in 4th period
.

I didn’t need to look to see who it was from. Only one person would look forward to seeing me in fourth period, and a warm glow quickened those frantic butterflies in my stomach.

Brett.

***

He was waiting for me in Hum-Ex class at what I’d come to accept as
our
table. When the school year started, I’d claimed a two-person workstation as my own in the back of the room. No one had dared to sit there until Brett took the seat next to me after he’d switched with someone to be my partner for a class project. Since then, he’d sat next to me almost every day in fourth period.
The only days he hadn’t were last week when he’d stood by his teammate, Sanchez, after one of my incriminating blog posts.

I ran
The Eastline Spy
, a blog that notoriously skewered the students and faculty at Eastline High whenever they were doing something they shouldn’t do. I’ve called out teachers for having affairs with students. I’ve exposed students cheating their way to easy A’s. I even
posted pics of the previous principal fooling around with one of the teachers (both of whom were married to other people at the time). Last week, however, I’d posted pics of Sanchez and two of his teammates bullying students in the hallway. All three of them had been suspended and forced to sit out of Friday’s game.

Sanchez was back in class today, and the murderous expression on his face told
me he hadn’t forgotten last week.

My reputation as the Queen B* would suffer if I looked away, so I returned his glare with an equal dose of animosity as I walked by him. If he tried anything, I wouldn’t think twice about calling him out on my blog again, especially after the way he’d had his hands up my little sister’s skirt a couple of weeks ago.

“I was waiting for you this morning. It’s
not like you to be late to school, Lexi,” Brett murmured when I sat down.

He was the only person who could call me Lexi besides my sister and not suffer my wrath.

“Taylor.” That was all I needed to say.

He chuckled. “So I guess carpooling to school is a no-go?”

Brett lived less than two blocks away from me. The environmentalist in me would be all for carpooling, but I still wasn’t ready to
ride with him every morning. “You have football practice after school. How am I supposed to get home?”

“I could drop you off at your house before practice.”

“Sort of defeats the purpose of carpooling if we’re making extra trips. Besides, it violates rule number one.”

He arched a brow. “It does?”

“Yep. No joined at the hip—remember?”

He let out a deep breath and shook his head. “Forgive me
for wanting to spend time with you.”

My cheeks blazed, and my reply stumbled out with halting awkwardness. “No, it’s not that. It’s just—um, well, I mean—”

The bell rang and cut me off.

I flipped open my laptop to start taking notes, and less than a minute later, I had an instant message from Brett.

Sorry. Just overly eager
. The grin on his face only added to the thrill that raced through
my veins. Brett was eager to be with
me
.

I get it
, I typed back.
I enjoy spending time with you too. But with Taylor needing a ride, I’d hate to risk making you late every morning over an eyeliner emergency
.

His shoulders shook with a silent chuckle.
If I had a latte waiting for you tomorrow morning, do you think you could arrive early enough to meet me at the bleachers before school?

I squirmed
in my seat, but with more joy than embarrassment. Getting some alone time with him was more than enough incentive to get Taylor out of the house early. The latte sealed the deal.
I could definitely try
.

Excellent. With Coach wanting me to put in extra prep time for this week’s game, I didn’t know how else I’d get to hang out with you outside of class
.

Extra prep time?
I typed.

Skylake is this
week
.

That was all he needed to say. Skylake High School was our cross-town rival. The winner of this game usually went on to win the state championship, which meant the high-stakes game often turned vicious. We’d won the last two years with Brett as starting quarterback, and I knew they’d want to deliver a loss to his nearly perfect record.

Mr. DePaul, our teacher, began to pace the aisles,
so I closed the IM window before we got caught. The school had banned instant messaging during class, but that never stopped Brett.

When the bell rang, Brett stuffed his tablet into his backpack and stood. “Sanchez suggested we look over some films today so we can find a few holes in Skylake’s defense.”

Brett played football like a chess game, so I wasn’t surprised he was taking extra time to
find more ways to win than just throwing a ball in the air and hoping it landed in Sanchez’s hands.

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