Playing the Game (8 page)

“
Jess?”

Grinning, he flipped me around, pulling me
into his lap. My back pressed into his chest as he reached for the
remote control on the coffee table and turned on the big screen
television. He leaned back, taking me with him, and rested his chin
on my shoulder. My heart’s thump increased again, only this time in
concern. Jess was so out of character that it scared me worse than
standing on a stage facing Marissa.

“
I have to go to bed in a
few hours, Aubrey. I just thought it would be cool to chill out
with you for awhile.”

I nodded as I snuggled into him. I’d take
what he was willing to give and analyze it later.

His love of all things on The Discovery
Channel hadn’t waned in the past five years and we watched episodes
of his favorite shows quietly with only a comment here and there.
Every once in a while, he’d press his lips to my neck or my temple
and I’d have to fight a shiver.

Finally, when it grew close to two in the
morning, he released me. He eased me gently off his lap and walked
me to my car.

“
Drive safe, Aubrey Rose.”
He kissed me again before opening my door. “I’ll give you a call
after the show tomorrow night.”

“
Okay,” I muttered. I
stood on my toes to press a kiss on his mouth. “Have a good road
trip.”

***

Someone, my father more than likely, had
left the porch light and the living room lamp on for me. I crept to
my room and fell thankfully in my bed. Shutting off my light, I
closed my eyes, wondering what Jess’s thoughts could have been on
earlier, finally giving up as sleep caught me.

I woke late the next morning to a barrage of
questions from my mother.

“
Where were you for so
late last night?” she demanded.

“
With friends,” I
muttered, trying to chase a stray piece of cereal around my
bowl.

“
What friends?”

“
A few from the show,” I
lied, not looking up. I finally caught the last piece and lifted
the box to pour more. I wasn’t hungry but I was doing what I could
to avoid looking into her face.

“
Hmm,” she said,
thoughtfully. “At least you’re making friends.”

“
Sure,” I said. I forced
as much cereal as I could down my throat and dumped the rest down
the garbage disposal. After a lingering shower, I called Gwen. She
was still distracted but agreed that I should come over Friday
night for a chat. Excited at the prospect of getting out of the
house this weekend, I went downstairs and listened to my mother’s
ideas for the remainder of the season.

That evening at the studio, I dressed in the
outfit my mother had sewn herself. She’d concocted a slim navy
skirt that stopped just beyond my knees and actually hugged my
figure in a loose embrace. The skirt was topped with a pale pink,
short-sleeved button up blouse in which I wore a dark pink camisole
beneath. It fit the sweetheart image but was hardly what I would
choose to wear if I were performing on stage in front of thousands
of my fans. I wore it without complaint since I hadn’t had the
nerve to veto it when my mother first presented it to me.

Still, I was far more comfortable in my
mother’s outfit than what I imagined I’d be if I wore what Samantha
chose to wear. Her tight leather skirt and equally tight tank top
did fit the rock image a little better but was far more revealing
than I would ever dare to be. So much for Samantha striving to
knock me off the sweetheart pedestal.

And her music was on the edge, too. Richard
and Marissa had a hay-day with her, throwing disparaging remarks at
her left and right. She took it in stride, smirking in an
irritating know-it-all way.

She was worse in the dressing room, often
flaunting her personal style and her over-confidence in my face.
She didn’t worry me, though. I hadn’t exactly won over Marissa and
Richard, yet, but I had a better chance than she.

We took to the stage Thursday night,
standing before the judges, to await our fate. Unfortunately, I was
stuck next to Samantha and our appearances were a stark contrast of
each other. She was dressed in another tight skirt and me in
another of my mother’s sweetheart ensembles. Even our hair was a
striking difference: My dark locks pulled back off my face in soft
curls while her blonde tresses fell wildly to her shoulders.

She stepped forward, ready to face her
critics. As each judge commented on her performance, my heart
soared. Even though I hadn’t had my turn in front of the firing
squad, I knew they’d never berate me that way. They loved me.

But Richard surprised me once again.

“
Samantha, I have to say
you throw me for a loop each week. I never know what to expect from
you but you manage to impress me. Your personality shines through
and you always look like you’re having the time of your life. I
have no choice but to pass you to the next round.”

Marissa’s words were nearly the same. I
wondered vaguely if Marissa was sleeping with Richard.

Samantha took a step back beside me,
smugness radiating from every pore. Ignoring her, I smiled sweetly
when Stephen Casmain called my name. He sang my praises again, as
did Chelsea and Big D. But Richard’s frown and creased forehead
prevented my jubilant celebration.

“
I was pleased with your
choice of music, as I said, but I was not pleased with your
performance. True, you did nail the notes, you sounded good, and
you looked adorable, but I still don’t see the real you. I hate the
American Sweetheart moniker you’ve earned probably as much as you.
I think you should take a page from Samantha’s book and develop
your own style. I’ll see you next week.”

I kept the smile plastered on my face as I
nodded even though I was thoroughly horrified. I faced Marissa with
a wild heart.

“
I want to see you,
Aubrey, not a Barbie Doll. That’s the only reason why I’ll pass
you.”

When we were finally dismissed so those who
had to fight to make it next week could perform, Samantha cornered
me in the dressing room.

“
Seems the
sweetheart
can’t impress
the toughest judges, huh?” Her smirk hadn’t budged since we'd left
the stage. Well, it might have grown a tad more
irritating.

“
Whatever,” I mumbled as I
sat before my locker. I wasn’t in the mood for her as I tried to
figure out what I needed to do to get Richard and Marissa off my
case.

“
Aw, come on, Aubrey,” she
said with a false smile. She sat next to me, dropping her voice.
“You and I are the best two on the show. We might as well be
friends.”

Desperate to get her away from me so I could
be alone with my thoughts, I agreed. She beamed happily.

“
I’m having a party Friday
night. You should come,” she said. Her sparkling eyes held no
malice so once again I agreed. She wrote out her address and phone
number and handed it to me, ecstatic that I said yes.

I rode home with my mother, ignoring her
babbling and suggestions, and escaped to my room as soon as we got
home. I changed into pajamas and shut off my light, welcoming the
dark that settled around me. I held my phone in my hand, knowing
Jess would be calling soon. I’d nearly drifted off when my phone
finally rang. I prepared for his wrath.

“
Hey, Jess,” I
said.

“
I don’t like that Richard
a bit,” he said, in an unusually calm tone. “But he’s got a point.
Especially about that Samantha chick.”

“
What?” I gasped. “You
think I should be more like her?”

“
She’s going to beat you,
Aubrey,” he continued. “She has an I-don’t-care attitude and she’s
hot.”

My heart sank while my veins burned anger.
How could he call her hot when he was talking to me? My eyes seared
as they turned from brown to green in jealousy. Wasn’t he supposed
to root for me?

“
I’ll beat her,” I
whispered, suddenly not so sure.

“
Yeah, if you do like that
Dick guy says and be yourself. Stop being your mother’s paper doll.
Sure, you look cute but I know you’re more passionate than you’ve
been.”

Maybe he made sense but it still hurt. I
wanted him to adopt my mother’s confident tone and tell me how
unfair it was that someone like Samantha could possibly be in the
same category as me. I wanted him to rant angrily that Marissa and
Richard weren’t falling at my feet like the other three judges. I
longed for him to threaten to beat up Richard for his hurtful
words.

But this was Jess and he never did anything
I wanted.

“
You still there?” he
demanded.

“
Yeah.”

“
Don’t pout, Aubrey. You
know I’m right.” Smugness radiated through the phone lines and I
was beginning to wonder if he didn’t belong with Samantha. The
thought brought a fresh wave of tears to my eyes and my anger
increased. How one person could cause so many tears, I’d never
understand.

“
I’m not pouting. I’ll
work on it,” I promised, wiping the warm tears off my
cheeks.

He sighed heavily - a sound I recognized.
I’d frustrated him again. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“
Going to Gwen’s
tomorrow.”

“
Good, maybe she’ll put a
spark in you. Tell her hi for me.” I heard him yawn and my heart
fell. He was going to hang up soon. “Watch the game Saturday. I’m
pitching.”

“
I know,” I said before I
could stop the words. I closed my eyes to stifle my
groan.

“
Keeping track,
huh?”

My fingers itched to smack him. “Just do
something good, huh?”

He laughed. “Sure. A no-hitter.” The
laughter in his voice softened my heart and sent a shudder up my
spine. “I need to go. I have a meeting with the pitching coach
tomorrow.”

“
Good luck, Jess,” I
whispered hoarsely. “I’ll watch.”

“
Thanks,
sweetheart
. I’ll call
you this weekend.” He hung up before I could respond.

Plugging my phone into the charger, I
wrestled with the conflicting emotions raging inside my head. My
feelings were hurt – that was an understatement. I couldn’t believe
all the things he said about Samantha. I mean, wasn’t I his…well,
whatever?

I shot straight up in my bed. What if he was
using me to meet Samantha? My heart fell, my lungs tightening. I
forced the images of Samantha in Jess’s arms out of my head. No,
Jess didn’t use people for anything. If he wanted something, he’d
go out and get it. He wasn’t much for playing games.

But if that was true, what was he doing with
me?

Chapter Seven

I sat on a stool in the dusty antiques shop,
watching as Gwen assisted a customer inquiring about some old lamp.
I couldn’t understand the attraction but then, I wasn’t really into
the antiques trade.

She rang her customer up with a charming
smile and sent the woman on her way. Turning her attention back to
me, she leaned against the counter. I noticed the light circles
under her eyes and scrunched up my nose.

“
Are you sleeping okay?” I
asked.

Shrugging, she began straightening a stack
of flyers on the counter. “I’ve been busy, that’s all. So tell me
what Jess is up to now.”

I watched her for a few more minutes before
launching into my tale. She nodded and commented where appropriate
but I had a feeling her heart wasn’t in it. Sighing, she wiped her
hands on her jeans.

“
You need to relax,
Aubrey. Don’t get so worked up over him. It’s obvious he likes you.
Maybe he’s trying to work out his feelings.”

Again I was disappointed. I wanted her to
rail against Jess and take my side. I knew I was being childish but
my heart was nothing but a sopping mess and I had no clue what to
do about it. Gwen wouldn’t give me answers and all Jess did is
throw more questions my way like I was in the batter’s box.

“
I’m just confused. I’ll
get over it,” I dismissed angrily. Gwen’s attention was distracted
again. In fact, she was looking a little green. “Are you
okay?”

She waved my concerns away. “I’m wearing
myself out is all. Things have picked up around here and I’ve been
running around auctions looking for new things. Dane keeps telling
me to take a few days off. That’s not possible with only two
assistants.”

“
I’ll help if you need
it,” I offered, not liking how flushed my sister looked. “And I’m
free.”

She laughed hollowly but a little color
returned to her face. She patted my shoulder and kissed my cheek.
“I might take you up on that if Dane persists. But right now, you
need to concentrate on the show. I liked your music but you’re
still not totally into it.”

I groaned, tired of the same argument. I
heard enough of it on the show and from my mother. And from Jess. I
didn’t want Gwen to jump on the bandwagon. “I’ll practice this
weekend.”

“
How are the other
contestants treating you?” she asked, scrutinizing my
face.

The party! I’d forgotten about Samantha’s
party. I hadn’t really intended to go but if Gwen was as tired as
she looked, I didn’t want to hang out at her house and make her
feel as though she had to entertain me. If only I had more
friends.

“
They’re warming up to me.
One of them is having a party tonight and I think I’ll
go.”

“
That’s a good idea,” she
said slowly. “But be careful.”

I rolled my eyes, an irritating habit I’d
picked up from Jess. “I will.”