Pepped Up and Ready (Pepper Jones #3) (6 page)

BOOK: Pepped Up and Ready (Pepper Jones #3)
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I’m hoping if I just ignore the guy he’ll realize he can’t get to Jace through me. As the hostess, I’m able to hang out away from his table, especially now that the crowds have slowed down. But then Jenny goes to clear the dishes from Clayton’s table, and she remains there for nearly ten minutes. It takes some willpower not to intervene. Based on the giggling coming from Jenny, there’s no doubt Clayton is charming her.

When she finally heads into the kitchen with their dishes, I corner her. She’s grinning widely. “They invited me to hang out with them afterward!” she announces.

My mouth goes dry. “You aren’t actually thinking of going, are you?”

“What? Of course I’m going to go! I’ll probably be grounded for a month, but it’s worth it. This is
Clayton Dennison
. They invited you too. You’ll come, right?”

Do I tell her he only invited her to make me come too? Because there’s no way I’m letting Jenny go hang out late at night with a bunch of college students by herself. I don’t know these people and they could be total creeps.

“I’m not going, Jenny, and you aren’t either,” I say in my most authoritative voice.

“Oh, come on, Pepper, don’t be a party pooper.”

“This isn’t worth getting grounded for a month over, Jenny,” I try to convince her.

“It is to me. And honestly, if my dad finds out it’s Clayton Dennison I was with, he probably won’t give me a very hard time.”

Sighing, I decide I’ll have to let her know there’s more to this invitation. “Look, Clayton’s trying to undermine Jace by hanging out with me. He probably invited you because he saw us talking, figured we were friends, and thought I’d go if you did.”

“Really?” Jenny gives me a sidelong glance. I’m not one to make up stories like this, and she knows it. “Why’s he want to undermine Jace?”

“That’s more complicated. But just trust me on this.”

She studies me. “I believe you. I mean, it makes more sense than him actually wanting to hang out with me.” She doesn’t sound disappointed, just thoughtful.

“So, you won’t go?”

“Well, I’m not going without you, and if what you say is true, you shouldn’t go.” And then she gets a smug look. “It’ll feel pretty good turning down Clayton Dennison.” She rolls back her shoulders before heading back onto the floor.

That’s my girl.

Chapter 7

 

The first day of school is weird. I think my best girlfriend has been elevated to the most popular girl in school, or at least a contender for that position. Wes took Zoe to the party that Kayla invited us to. Wes is a pretty big deal, and going to a college party, especially an invite-only one that’s fairly exclusive, is a really big deal. So, now Zoe Burton is a big deal.

Zoe and I have been friends since freshman year, and I know she didn’t seek out this social status. She probably didn’t even see it coming. But the girl likes to have fun. And I have to say, she’s easing into the role of popular girl pretty well.

We sit at the senior popular table at lunch. It’s not my first time at this table, I’ve been here with Jace and his friends before. But now it’s with Zoe, Omar, Rollie, and yeah, some others I’m not really friends with, but for the most part, it’s
my
group at the popular table. I don’t like it.

Zoe and I sit by the window, and she turns to face me, blocking everyone else out. “Pep, I have seriously been trying to talk to you, alone, for like, three days,” she says in a low voice.

“Shit, sorry.” I’ve been cursing a lot since spending more time with Jace and Wes. Well, not a lot, but more than usual.

“You are gossip-clueless so I need to fill you in because it’s almost old news and everyone’s gonna assume you know,” she says without a breathing-break. “Ryan broke up with Lisa.”

“Oh?” I make the mistake of glancing over Zoe’s shoulder and find Dana and Tina watching us. They’re at the other end of the table though, so I don’t think they can hear us.

“Yeah, I found out at Dana’s party the other night. It happened right after you left. I had no idea news can spread that fast. Everyone at the party was talking about it and I wanted to talk to you because… your name came up a few times.”

That gets my attention. “What? Why?”

Ryan and I dated for a few months last fall. We were good together but, well, I was in love with Jace. Still. Always. But Lisa had a thing for Ryan ever since he moved here for his senior year, and they got together almost as quickly as Jace and I did after we broke up. So no hard feelings… not really.

“Lisa thinks he’s still into you,” Zoe whispers. She’s not always so discreet, so I appreciate her effort. “He said it was because they were starting college, which is lame, because they’re both at UC. That he would be busy with running, didn’t think they should try to stay together when they’d both have a lot going on… Total bullshit really.”

“I’m glad you said that,” I tell her with a nod. Because those reasons apply to me and Jace and
we
aren’t breaking up.

“Anyway, people are talking, you know? It’ll blow over. But, aside from you and Jace, they were the hottest couple here and going to UC together and everything? People like to turn it into drama. Just don’t let it get to you.” She pats me on the shoulder and steals a grape from my Tupperware. Gran still packs me lunch.

This is why I love Zoe. She listens to gossip, and might even perpetuate it at times, but she doesn’t take it seriously. She sees it for what it is.

Gazing out the window, I recall Ryan’s dejected look when I saw him on his way to the gym. That was the morning after he broke up with Lisa. So he was definitely sad, right? Shaking my head, I bite into my peanut butter and banana sandwich. It doesn’t matter. It
can’t
matter. This is just gossip. After nearly a year, and most of that with both of us in relationships, Ryan Harding cannot still have feelings for me.

But I remember that he left me a voicemail later that day. I never called him back. The message said I didn’t need to. But it was the kind of message that made me feel like there was something he wanted to talk to me about, but knew maybe he shouldn’t and was sort of glad I hadn’t answered the phone. And that’s why I never called him back. After hearing this news, I have the feeling I made the right decision on that one.

***

When I toe the line for the first cross meet of the season, I’m amazed how quickly it’s arrived. The first few weeks of my senior year have been a whirlwind. I’ve managed to get in three weight lifting sessions before school each week, but that means I have to go to bed pretty early. So after school it’s practice, rush home to eat dinner and maybe do like five minutes of homework, and then rush to UC to spend some time with Jace, if I can.

Between my homework and Jace’s football commitments, we don’t see each other every night, which sucks, but I’m grateful he’s still making an effort to fit me in. Fortunately, my classes this semester aren’t very tough, and Jace is taking the classes recommended by his coaches, which pretty much means he has no homework. But he tries to see his mom with some of his free time, and he’s already been out of town for two games in the past month.

Things have been crazy busy but good between Jace and me. Some of my fears have completely disappeared. Both of us are so focused on training that we don’t want to party. Jace doesn’t talk about it, but I can tell from his roommates’ comments that his teammates give him a hard time for bailing on parties. It’s not very heartfelt though. I think his teammates respect that he takes training so seriously, and they know him being in good form is key to the team’s success. Ironically, Jace hasn’t played in a game yet. The coaches didn’t think he was ready and didn’t want to risk injury for the first couple of pre-season games. He’s playing for the first time tonight, a home game. He got box tickets for me, Gran, Jim, Jim’s girlfriend Sheila, and his mom, Annie.

But here I am, at my first meet, and Jace is watching with Gran. I don’t feel much anxiety at all. This is the third time I’ve run this course, and I know I’m in amazing shape. I’ve been smashing the workouts. The boys can’t even keep up with me. All I really feel is confidence.

I didn’t race this meet last year. Coach thought I needed to hold back since the championship meets go so late in the season, and I’d be too tired if I started racing in September. But I’m a more mature runner now, and after chatting with Coach Tom, I convinced him that racing at all the meets was wise. I love racing. And I’ll get bored and antsy if I don’t race.

But now I’m one mile in, running alone, and I’m actually slightly bored. I knew beforehand this wasn’t a very competitive race. But I don’t even feel like I’m racing. I can’t hear anyone behind me. I’ve been running to the point of pain and exhaustion so regularly these days that one more run like that doesn’t faze me. Yeah, my legs are tired. Yeah, I feel the burn. But that’s nothing new.

The boys’ team pauses in their warm up as I run by – they race after us – and their cheering encourages me to keep pushing harder. This
is
a race, after all.

“Dude, she’s like half a mile ahead of the next girl,” I hear one of the guys say.

When I emerge from the woods and hit the final stretch across a soccer field, Gran is jumping up and down like I’m in a shoulder-to-shoulder finish in a major race. For her, I kick it up a notch and push harder. Her enthusiasm is contagious. Jace is there too, calling my name and making me want to dig deep.

When I cross the finish line and see my time flash in front of me, my heart practically stops. 16:36.
No way
.

That’s the fastest time I’ve ever run a 5K. I wrack my brain, trying to remember if this course has a reputation for being fast, or if it is actually a shorter distance than the typical course. But no, I don’t recall any of that. My time is faster than I’ve run at any championship meet, and I didn’t even need to push hard to win. Glancing behind me, no one else has even emerged from the woods yet.

But as Gran and Jace rush toward me, the boys’ team not far behind, I don’t feel like celebrating. That was too fast. Too soon. Nationals isn’t for three more months and judging by the quiver in my legs… not to mention the pain in my shins I’ve been ignoring for weeks, I’m not sure I can maintain this level of fitness for much longer. When I glance up and see Coach Tom, who is smiling at me, but looks worried, I know I’m right. Shit.

***

“To breaking records!” Gran exclaims, raising her shot glass to clink with mine.

The whiskey burns my throat as it slides down and I can feel it spread heat throughout my chest and belly. Gran squeals with glee at my disgusted expression before pouring herself another. She knows better than to pour a second for me.

Gran can’t understand why I’m not super-happy about my race this morning. My mood on race days is usually directly correlated with my performance. And today’s performance will go down in history. Hell, I’ve never run that fast in my life. The reason I’m acting like a “sullen teenager” (Gran’s words) is because I’m afraid I’ll never run that fast again. At least not this season. I don’t know what to do now. Do I push through it? Train even harder than before? Or do I back off now and pick it up again closer to championship season? I know I should talk to Coach Tom, who must suspect I’ve been doing extra workouts, but I don’t want to see the disappointment on his face.

With the whiskey that Gran convinced me to drink making me feel warm and fuzzy, I start to feel like maybe it will all be okay. Maybe I will just keep breaking course records every meet. Maybe I’ll be on fire straight through until Nationals.

Jim and Sheila drive us to Jace’s football game and the four of us meet Annie in our boxed seats. Annie and Jim were so young when they had Jace, and Annie’s drug addiction was such a clear-cut reason for their breakup, that the two of them have this amicable, non-awkward relationship. Sheila doesn’t seem to mind Annie on the few occasions we’ve all been together, and I imagine enough time has passed that Annie’s no longer a threat to Sheila and Jim’s relationship.

Jace’s jersey isn’t available for fans to purchase yet, so I’ve got on his old Brockton Public jersey with a UC baseball cap to show my acknowledgement that, yes, I know he’s not still in high school.

The “Wilder” on the back of the jersey attracts some attention, but I wear it with confidence, because Jace and I have held it together for over a month since he started college. And we haven’t even been rattled – not much, at least.

Gran is in rare form tonight after two shots of whiskey. Always an enthusiastic fan, she’s hoarse by half time. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while. I love watching Jace play football, but I’ve never watched a game as his girlfriend. We started dating right after his last high school season ended. In the past, I’ve been surrounded by other girls vying for him and I thought I couldn’t have him beyond our friendship. But now I’m secluded from other girls with family, and he belongs to all of us. The pride we share as he throws another awesome pass vibrates amongst us.

By the time the game ends, I’m not only beaming with pride but I’m also feeling slightly hot and bothered – definitely not a good thing when I’m with Jace’s parents and my Gran. Fortunately, they head out and leave me to meet up with Jace alone.

I’m not surprised to see the players’ families and friends waiting outside the locker room, but the press with cameras and microphones at the ready remind me that UC just won their first home game – by twenty-four points – to a team they haven’t beaten in years. My heart sinks, realizing it might be awhile before I get Jace alone.

He finally comes outside with a large group of players, looking both adorable and tough with damp hair from a shower and wearing jeans and a tee shirt. His eyes search the crowd and when they land on me, he flashes a smile that quite literally has my knees buckling. I grab the fence next to me, prepared to wait as the reporters approach him. But he tells them he won’t be doing any interviews and walks straight through them to me.

He doesn’t kiss me, just takes my hand. “Hi,” he says quietly. “Wanna get out of here?”

Do I ever.

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