Secondary Characters (8 page)

My stomach is in knots as we walk toward Lance’s house. Thank God all Amber can think about is Nick’s mouth or she’d be grilling me about why I’m being so weird about coming here. She’s not an idiot. Normally she’d have totally figured it out. But instead she’s telling me all the details of her relationship that I’ve missed out on since we haven’t been hanging out much, even though I was perfectly happy not knowing them, and how she can’t wait to see him tonight. So, yeah, thank God for raging hormones. Well, for
hers.

Lance opens the door in a bright blue shirt that makes his eyes look amazing and once again my stomach does a major, Olympic-gymnast kind of jump and spin. Why did I agree to come here? I’ve been doing my absolute best to avoid him for the past week, and now I’ve walked right up to his house. I must be totally out of my mind.

“Hey,” he says, kicking at the carpet.

“Hey.”
Brilliant, Mabel.
I hate that it’s so difficult to talk to him now. I stare at my feet as we walk down to the basement.

Amber and Nick take the couch and I’m sure it won’t take them long to get
comfortable
.

I sit in the recliner and try to act like a normal human being. One that knows where to put her hands without thinking about it and who remembers to breathe in and out naturally, without constant reminders. I’m not doing a very good job of it.

I stare at the screen and try to pretend that Ryan Gosling is so fascinating I am completely unaware of what else is happening in the room. Unaware of Nick and Amber pawing at each other. Unaware of the strange looks Amber keeps giving me, undoubtedly trying to figure out if I’m pissed at her or not.

Unaware of every time Lance moves. Every time he shifts his weight, or glances at them,
at her
, or at me. At least, I think he’s been glancing at me.

“Hey,” he leans toward me and whispers, “can we talk?”

“Sure,” I say. I mean it’s not like I can say,
No. Leave me alone and please don’t talk to me ever again.

Plus, part of me wants to be alone with him. The masochistic part, I guess. I mean, I might as well be honest with myself. It’s why I came tonight. I’ve missed him this last week. I want to hear what he has to say, even though I figure he probably just wants to know if I said something to Amber about what he said. I know if I were a guy, I wouldn’t want my best friend’s girlfriend to know I had a crush on her.

We’re back on the front steps. This time I sit as close to the railing as possible, trying to leave room between us. And I am
not
looking at the stars. I stare down at his yard. The grass is starting to brown. In another month or so, it’ll be covered in snow. Goose bumps spread out across my skin and I wrap my arms around myself, pulling my soft cardigan tighter against my body.

“Um, I wanted to ask you something,” he says, then stops. He looks nervous. I let him squirm for a minute. He fidgets, runs his hand through his hair, shifts his weight back and forth.

“Don’t worry,” I finally say. “I didn’t say anything to Amber.”

“What?” His head jerks up and he looks at me with utter confusion. “Say anything about what?”

I roll my eyes and try not to look at him. “About you liking her.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t like her. I mean, she seems nice and all, but I don’t
like
her.” I snort. “Oh come on.”

“Come on what?” He furrows his brows, looking at me like I’m the one who’s nuts. “I don’t like her. Why would you even think that?”

“Um maybe because you called her ‘Aphrodite’ and then pouted about how ‘guys like Nick always get the girl.’” I lower my tone on the last line, giving my best imitation of a whiny guy voice. I know I sound like a jerk, but I so don’t want to have this conversation. I don’t want to talk about
her.
“I get it. Everyone loves Amber. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. Okay?”

He’s silent. I finally turn and look at him and his mouth is hanging. I tug at my sleeves and tap my boot on the step. The silence seems to go on forever. Finally I stand and turn toward the house. He scrambles to his feet behind me.

“Mabel, I don’t like Amber. When I said guys like Nick always … What I meant was …” I turn around to face him, but he’s staring at his shoes.

He rubs his hand across his forehead and down his face. “Nick was a boring idiot on their first date, and yet by date number two they were making out on my couch. It’s so easy for him. I don’t seem to know how to get there. I mean, not that I just want to make out on my couch!” He blurts the last part out really fast and his face gets red.

If I weren’t so damn irritated, I’d probably have laughed at him.
Why does he have to be so freaking cute?

“Mabel, the only reason I was trying to help Nick get together with Amber in the first place was so I would have an excuse to talk to you.” He looks up for a second, his forehead creased and his face all sheepish.

It’s absolutely adorable. My heart melts into a big gooey mess, warming up my chest and spreading through my limbs.

“What?” I manage once whatever is fluttering through me slows down long enough for me to work my brain.

“You’re beautiful, and smart and funny. But I’m not—I mean, I don’t know how to impress a girl like you. Without the whole ‘double date’ excuse, I didn’t think you’d go out with me. And then you wouldn’t even talk to me. I basically had to beg Amber to try and talk you into coming over here tonight.”

“You did?” I feel tears pricking at the back of my eyes and I’m grinning like an idiot. But he’s staring at the ground again, kicking at dust that’s not there.

“I know it’s pathetic, but,” he rubs the back of his neck. His face is turning pink again. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’ve been wanting to ask you to the dance, and I thought maybe if I could get you over here tonight …”

“You wanted to ask me to the dance?”

He looks at me and I can hardly believe how nervous he looks. To ask
me
out
.
I’m grinning from ear to ear.

“Um, yeah,” he says.

“So …” I say.

I am not letting him off the hook, I want to hear him say it, but by now he’s smiling, too. He takes a deep breath and wipes his palms on his jeans. “Mabel,” he says, taking a careful step toward me. “Will you go to the dance with me?”

I feel like I might float right off his porch.

“Yes,” I say and take a step closer to him, that magnet pulling me forward again. Only this time it doesn’t hurt, because I don’t fight it.

He takes a step toward me, too, and reaches out for my hand. His fingers intertwine with mine and he pulls me a little closer. Little sparks of electricity go off everywhere his skin touches mine. We’re both still smiling as he leans down and kisses me.

His hands wrap around my waist and I stretch up on my tiptoes to press my lips harder against his and run my fingers through his hair. My heart melts in my chest. I don’t want him to ever let go.

Chapter Fifteen

There’s crappy music playing and the white lights hanging from the ceiling don’t hide the fact that we’re in the high-school gym. But it doesn’t matter how lame it is, I still feel awesome because I’m at the dance with Mabel. And I still can’t quite believe it. I can’t believe she lets me hold her in my arms and kiss her, and stare at her all I want without her thinking I’m some kind of creeper. Which is good, because I can’t help but stare at her tonight.

She’s wearing a short silver dress with black high heels and her legs look about six feet long. Her dark, soft hair is hanging down her back in big loose curls I can run my fingers through. She looks incredible. I am still amazed she is here with
me.

She sways back and forth to the music. It blows my mind she could have ever thought I liked Amber. To think I thought I had been embarrassingly obvious over the past six months.

I wrap my arms around her. She smells like lilacs.

I think about that afternoon on the float and how scared I was to talk to her. I lean down and kiss her cheek.

Thank God for Amber and Nick, I guess.

***

Amber looks like a movie star in her red dress, and all eyes are on her and Nick as they stride through the dance. All eyes except Lance’s. He’s looking at me. He’s standing behind me, with his arms around my waist. He’s bent down, his chin resting on my shoulder.

“Have I told you yet how beautiful you look tonight?” he whispers in my ear. It causes little shivers to run down my spine and a smile to spread across my face.

“Yes, like three times. But that’s okay. I don’t mind.” He laughs and kisses my neck. Then he follows my gaze to Amber and Nick.

“They’re a beautiful couple,” I say.

“Yeah, I have to say, I really don’t care.” He laughs and spins me around to face him. He looks all kinds of gorgeous in his dark grey suit. His silver tie matches my dress. It’s cute and flirty and I feel stunning in it.

Of course, the way Lance is looking at me has a lot to do with how amazing I feel tonight.

“You know what the best thing is about
not
being the leads?” he asks me. “When all eyes are on
them
, no one will notice if we do
this.”
He leans down and kisses me. His arms wrap around me and lift me up off the floor. We’re both laughing when he sets me back down.

I peek around him at the crowd of dancers, and he’s right. No one so much as glances in our direction. It’s great.

“Besides,” he says, leaning toward me, his voice low, “you are, by far, the most beautiful girl in this room tonight.
You
are my Aphrodite.”

My heart fills up my whole chest. I am so glad he didn't just give up, like I did. We could have easily spent the whole school year avoiding each other for no reason.

I pull him tighter as we start to dance. I run my hands up his arms and across his broad, sexy shoulders. I look up into his bright blue eyes. He smiles and I can’t resist reaching up to kiss him again. I love his mouth. His big, stupid mouth. He still makes plenty of dumb jokes, but they don’t bother me now. In fact, it’s kind of cute.

I lay my head on his chest. For the first time, I feel like the heroine of my own love story. And the heroine always gets her man.

Acknowledgments

A huge thank you goes out to my husband for putting up with me, and taking care of the kids, while I worked on my writing. He's listened patiently every time I thought I was losing my mind and gave me encouragement when I needed it most. Thank you to Melissa, Jen, Hannah, Anna, and Cassie Mae for being the first eyes on this and helping to make it stronger. Thank you to Jennifer Walkup, whose wonderful notes on Secondary Characters not only made it so much better, but also made me believe that other people would love Mabel and Lance as much as I did. And finally, big, big thanks to Mandy Schoen and Georgia McBride for taking a chance on me!

Rachel Schieffelbein

Rachel Schieffelbein grew up in a tiny town in Southeast Minnesota reading books, riding horses, and participating in speech and theater. She is now married with four kids and enjoys reading books, riding horses, and coaching speech and theater. If it ain't broke, don't fix it!

She enjoys writing characters she can relate to, ones she would want to hang out with, or fall in love with. She hopes her readers will love them, too.

Look for PRIMER coming from Swoon Romance this Fall.

PRIMER

Lizzy Charles

Chapter One

It’s surreal to be here, hanging out without fear of attack.

I can’t resist the water’s temptation after a sticky hour of tanning under the scorching sun. I slip into the empty pool and sink to its bottom. The water’s cool thrill rolls through my hair. Misshaped forms tan along the pool’s edge and large bubbles escape my lips. I watch them float to the surface before I follow.

After dunking my head in the water one last time, I pull my towel around my shoulders. I’m almost comfortable in a bikini, but don’t want people thinking I’m trying to put myself out there. Snatching my magazine from my bag, I stretch out on my lounger. Fitting in with Marissa’s pool routine is easy.

Marissa stretches out next to me, one leg long, the other bent up. This is her new tanning pose which makes her belly look flatter. I can’t really tell the difference, and she’s a size two anyway. She flips her blond hair and casually adjusts her top. A hot guy must be approaching.

I peer over Cosmo. Correction. It is
the
guy.

Justin Marshall.

Justin pulls his hands through his dark hair with a smile. He laughs, rubbing his chiseled jawline with its always there, five-o’clock shadow. He’s every girl’s dream. Well, every girl but me.

Everyone stops Justin on his way around the pool. Guys hold up high fives and girls offer giggling waves. It takes him over five minutes to walk forty feet. It looks like a nightmare to me, but he certainly seems to enjoy it. He deals with everyone like a prince, flashing his white smile and chuckling. He pulls his hands through his hair again, an obvious maneuver to make his shoulder muscles pop.