So Many Boys (26 page)

“So we’re still a squad?” she asked, her voice meek.

“Yes.” I nodded, although I wasn’t sure if that was true anymore. But for now, I’d have to pretend it was.

“Great.” Izzie exhaled, rubbing her stomach. “I’m starving.”

I pressed my lips together, nodding for the squad to go ahead, waiting until Kira and I were alone again. We turned to look at each other.

“One other thing,” Kira said, focusing her big blue eyes on me. “I…” She paused, looking uncomfortable with what she was about to say. “I love him.”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

“I love him, Tessa. So…” She looked away and then back at me. “So leave him alone, okay?”

My face stung. Not just because my ex-best friend had practically accused me of trying to steal her boyfriend, but also because…she was right to worry. And I knew that.

“I’ll leave him alone.” I nodded, wishing that things could go back to the way they were. But Kira and I were like SOS. We’d have to rebuild—even if we could never get to where we’d been before.

Dear Clients,

This is an important announcement regarding SOS and its future dealings. During the last few months, an imposter infiltrated SOS. The situation has been handled, and the proper investigators are back on duty.

In the meantime, the real SOS has reinstated its former leader and is getting back to basics. We are a nonprofit organization and exist only on donations from our benefactors. In addition, there will be no more revenge, although matchmaking is still a possibility.

We are also returning to our top-secret status, and you can be assured that all the information collected will remain confidential. Although we are still trying to get the previously loaded videos off of YouTube.

SOS is looking forward to salvaging our reputations and rebuilding your trust.

If you suspect your boyfriend in a cheat, please send a cheater request to 555-0101.

WHEN I HOBBLED INTO THE CAFETERIA (STILL
minus a shoe), my emotions were completely tied in lopsided bows. I stood, looking over the student body, unsure of where to begin.

Maybe it was the paper flowers or homecoming ribbons on the walls or the alternating red and blue lighting, but this place was romantic. And I didn’t belong here. Not without Aiden.

I reached down to slip off my other shoe before making my way back out of the dance and down the deserted hallway. The sound of music slowly faded behind me, and I wondered where I should go. What I should do.

But going home didn’t sound glorious, and the Smitten Kittens were all inside, enjoying their nights. And I wouldn’t bring them down. Not when we’d finally solved the copy-Kitten crisis. Only they didn’t know the real devastation. I’d have to fake it until we make it. No matter how much it hurt.

I paused and looked through the glass window of the exit door. I could see the filled parking lot, the streamers hanging on the cars for the parade at the end of the dance. It was so peppy that I had to smile.

I pushed hard on the heavy metal door and had made my way across the cement when I spotted the football field behind the parking lot. I laughed at myself. How obvious—where else would a cheerleader go to think?

When I got there, I sat down on the cool metal bleacher, looking out at the pieces of confetti littering the football field to prep it for the celebration. There was a chill in the air, so I wrapped my arms around my torso and glanced up at the scoreboard. Wildcats vs. Ducks. Even though I hadn’t been a cheerleader in months, my school spirit had never faded.

I closed my eyes as a gust of wind blew through my hair, sending it back from my face. Behind my lids, I could feel tears, hot, salty.

Aiden was gone. He didn’t belong to me anymore, and really, maybe he never had. Maybe we just weren’t right, no matter how much we felt like we were. And even though I missed him, I didn’t miss the confusion.

And Kira. I shook my head, not wanting to think about what she’d done, the ways she’d betrayed me. After all of our time together, she’d written me off. She wanted to hurt me.

I put my hands over my face, trying to block out the questions. The lies. Suddenly I felt something warm wrap around me and I spun around to see Joel standing there.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling slightly. “You just look cold.”

“I am.” Inside and out. But it was certainly nice to see him.

He adjusted his coat around my shoulders before stepping over the bleacher and sitting down next to me. His thigh pressed against mine, and I wondered if he realized how close he was.

I slipped my arms into the sleeves of the jacket and used my fingertips to hold it closed. Even with company, my heart was still aching. Joel shifted next to me and I looked over at him.

The wind blew his brown hair around, and when he smiled, warm and imperfect, I felt myself smile back. “Hi,” he whispered, like we’d just started talking.

“Hi.”

“You left the dance,” he said, running his glance down the length of my dress to my bare feet. “Did you lose your shoe, Cinderella?”

I didn’t want to tell him that his girlfriend had freaked out and physically assaulted me. Instead, “I lost it in the gym.”

Joel nodded. “That’s sort of funny,” he said. I raised my eyebrow, not quite sure what could be funny about me walking around barefoot, holding my remaining shoe.

Joel reached over, and my heart sped up as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his coat (which just so happened to be against
my
body).

“I went back to the gym to look for you and…wait,” he said, close enough that his breath was warm against my face. “It’s not midnight, is it?”

“No,” I murmured, not sure how to move anymore. Because I was fairly certain I should pull back in some way. Instead I sat there, nearly lip to lip with Kira’s ex-boyfriend.

“Good,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t want you turning into a pumpkin or anything.”

Okay, if Joel was drinking, I would probably have been able to smell it on his breath at this distance. But he seemed completely lucid. Completely—

Just then he pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket (which, again, had been against
my
body the entire time) and held up a shoe. My shoe.

“I found your glass slipper,” he said with a huge smile on his face.

I looked between Joel and my yellow size six and a half and felt my entire body tingle. He shouldn’t be here with me. He shouldn’t be rescuing my shoe.

“Thank you.”

“Does this mean I’m Prince Charming?” he asked, licking his lips as he glanced at mine. “I can slay a dragon if you need me to.”

I stared into his soft hazel eyes, feeling both lost and safe. “No dragons in
Cinderella
,” I murmured, my breath quickening.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I never believed in that fairy-tale bullshit anyway.” Joel leaned over like he was about to kiss me. Then he moved his head and gently pressed his lips to my cheek, touching me so softly that for a minute, I wasn’t sure if it was real.

I shut my eyes, aware that being this close to my ex-best friend’s ex-boyfriend in the bleachers of the football field was completely unethical, both socially and athletically. But the way Joel touched me was so right. It was exactly what I needed, maybe all along.

With a whisper of a kiss, he pulled back only to rest his forehead against mine, his warm breath tickling my face. “I’m such a chicken,” he said with a quick laugh.

There was another breeze and I felt the rush of air on my toes. Straightening up, I glanced at my high heel, still in Joel’s hand. I smiled. “Would you mind?” I asked, crossing my legs to hold my bare foot in his direction.

He stared at my toes for a long moment, then scrunched his nose and looked over at me. “Actually, I do.” He held out my shoe to me. “I have a weird thing with feet. They sort of gross me out.”

I gasped, not because it was a horrible thing, but because it was a
different
thing.

“Not that your feet are gross,” Joel said quickly, looking like he was worried. “I’m not saying that. They are very cute feet.” He cringed a little. “It’s just…I don’t like anyone’s feet. I…I’m just going to shut up now.” He laughed and handed me my shoe.

Slipping it on quickly and then adding the other, I placed both feet back onto the floor of the bleachers and looked up as Joel examined them. “See, now they look cute.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Joel narrowed his eyes, glancing over me adorably. “You like me, don’t you?”

I met his eyes without lifting my head. “Maybe.”

He grinned. “ ‘Maybe’ means you’re incredibly in love with me.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said. If there was one word I wouldn’t throw around again, that was it. In fact, there was a good chance I’d never love anyone again.

“ ‘Ahead of ourselves’ means you want to jump my bones right here in the Washington High bleachers.” He held up his hands. “But I’m sorry, Tess. I’m not that kind of boy.”

“Stop.” I laughed. Okay, maybe “never love again” was a bit overdramatic. “You know, you’re sort of funny?” I asked, taking a strand of my hair and twisting it like I was bored. “You should really think about becoming a stand-up comedian or something.”

Joel made a face and then smiled. “I have a better idea,” he said, standing up and extending his hand to me.

I was scared to take it. What if my back spasmed again? What if—

“Take my hand,” he whispered, his face becoming serious. “Be with me.”

My stomach fluttered with anxious butterflies. He was right. I did like him. Without thinking anymore, I slid my cool palm into his, immediately comforted by his warmth. Joel pulled me to my feet and stood me up close to him. Carefully he put his hands on either side of my waist as I put my hands behind his neck.

“May I have this dance?” he asked.

I looked around the empty bleachers and the field beyond. “Here?” There weren’t even any paper flowers!

“Right here.”

I stared at him, seeing both his affection for me and his insecurity that I might walk away at any moment. And to be honest, I knew I should.

“Right now,” he added, pulling me just a little closer.

Being against him and enjoying it were wrong. But I couldn’t stop myself even if I tried. There were things I’d done in my past that I wasn’t proud of. All the time with SOS, Christian, and some of my poor relationship choices with Aiden. And even as I stood, slow dancing in the bleachers, feeling completely…well, smitten, I had a feeling that out of any of my mistakes, this could wind up being my worst one.

Totally and completely falling for my ex-best friend’s ex-boyfriend.

Dear Smitten Kittens,

The roster is posted, naming the new candidates for the squad. You’ll see the list reprinted below. The tryouts will be held this Saturday at 9:00 a.m. in the gymnasium.

All Smitten Kittens (even the suspended ones) are expected to attend and vote. Don’t be late.

Keep smiling,

Leona ☺

FROM
: Aiden Wilder [email protected]

TO
: Tessa Crimson [email protected]

SENT
: Sunday, September 30, 1:01 a.m.

SUBJECT
: STILL WAITING

Disclaimer: The same ex-boyfriends that were not harmed in the writing of book 1 were also not harmed in the writing of
So Many Boys
. However, some of the emotions in the situations may or may not reflect feelings the author could have possibly experienced at some point in her life.

First, I have to thank Melissa Sarver for her continued patience and dedication to this series. And always knowing how to talk me down when I freak myself out.

My editor Anne Heltzel, who worked tirelessly on this project. You make my chest ache! And of course all of the wonderful folks at Razorbill, thank you for supporting me and my neurotic tendencies. And for promising me gold stars!

I’m incredibly lucky to be surrounded by supportive, brilliant friends. First, Heather Hansen, who is never afraid to tell me the truth and who is always there to sing my praises. You make me a better person. Amanda Morgan, a smiling face that always cheers me up and reminds me of who I am. Trish Doller, just about the best person in the world to write with, is completely inspiring. Daisy Whitney, your brilliance makes me feel like an awful writer, but it also makes me work harder. And some great friends: Lisa Schroeder, Laini Taylor, and all the amazing authors that have made Portland home.

Thanks to the Tenners, an amazing group of debut authors who continue to support me and listen to the highs and lows of the biz. The very cool bloggers that have gotten me excited about my own books with their never-ending charm. The musers who listen to my complaints. And the great businesspeople who have always offered me advice throughout the process: Alice Pope, Jen Rofe, Jordanna Fraiberg LeVine, and Laura Schechter.

Thank you all for investing your time in me. I hope I make you proud.

Finally, my love belongs with my family. My wonderful, sometimes funny husband, Jesse. (Just kidding, honey.
Always
funny.) And my equally entertaining children, Joseph and Sophia, who never let me take myself too seriously. My mother, Connie, and my sisters, brothers, cousins, and all you other folks who share DNA with me . . . THANK YOU.

And as always, to my grandmother: You are always with me, and I still miss you every day. Thank you for giving me permission to take chances.