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Tomboys Don't Wear Pink: How To Date A Tomboy Page 5
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No such luck.
I was so absorbed in trying to disappear that I stumbled into Alex when she stopped short.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“It’s okay.”
I looked up at her with tears burning in my eyes. I didn’t know what to say or do and my best friend’s sympathetic smile wasn’t helping.
“It’ll blow over,” Alex said, but her tone said otherwise.
I swallowed back my emotions and nodded.
“See you at lunch?” Alex asked.
“Sure.” If I survive that long.
With a wave, I watched Alex’s long legs carry her down the hall. When she was finally gone, I took a deep breath and walked into first period to face my classmates. It felt more like facing the wolves, but I told myself I’d rather get it over with.
It’s just like ripping off a Band-Aid, Casey. You can do this.
I’d let them get out all their remarks and then we could move on.
Alex was right. It would blow over—eventually. Besides, it’s not like my classmates could say anything worse than what I’d already seen online.
Glass half full, I reminded myself.
I held my head high and marched to my desk. I was almost there when Lexy Bale stepped in my way. “Casey, I love the new look.” But the way her cat-like eyes judged me from head to toe said she anything but loved my look. “It’s very Hepburn.”
My heart dropped. Of course, Sexy-Lexy Bale would get the black dress and pearls reference. Too bad she was my nemesis. She was basically a predator. Her prey: expensive clothes and popular boys.
She’d been making my life a living hell since preschool. But I guess that’s what happens when you’re a tomboy and the alphabet determined your fate. My name had been following Lexy Bale’s since we first started preschool together. Which meant I was destined to sit next to the most popular girl in school forever and always. And though you might think that was a stroke of good fortune, you’d be wrong. We’ve already established that the universe is against me. So, no amount of alphabetical alchemy could make us friends.
Luckily, I’d been dealing with Lexy long enough to know the best way to handle her was to just smile and nod. I tried to move around her to my desk, but Lexy wasn’t done yet. “I’m so glad you realized pink isn’t your color, sweetie.” She lowered her voice like she was telling me a valuable secret. “Everyone knows pink and red don’t go together.”
I fought the urge to smack her hand away as she stroked a strand of my red hair maliciously.
“I mean, unless you’re trying to look like a cheap valentine,” Lexy added, laughing at her own joke. “Am I right, girls?”
Her posse of posh posers cackled along with her. I glared at Lexy as Emily and Jillian backed her up. I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but it turns out redheads have a reputation for short tempers for a reason. “I would’ve thought someone as fake as you would love a made-up holiday like Valentine’s Day, Lex.”
She grinned, examining her perfect manicure before replying. “Aw, sounds like someone’s bitter that no one’s ever bought her flowers and chocolate.”
“Like I care about that!”
Lexy prowled closer. “From your new obsessions with dresses and lipstick, it seems you do.”
My face flushed and I suddenly regretted thinking I could pull off the barely-there shade of lipstick I had on. I felt like a goldfish gulping air as I searched for a comeback. But the mental image of looking like a goldfish wearing lipstick only embarrassed me further. I was still stammering defensively when Lexy laughed in my face.
“If you want to dress like a cheap greeting card, be my guest, but let me give you a piece of advice, Casey. It doesn’t matter what you wear. You’ll always be the tomboy with tomato hair and no boy is going to date that.”
Lexy smiled sweetly as the teacher walked in and told us all to grab our seats. But all I could do was stand there holding back tears as I watched Lexy and her minions giggling at my expense. But that wasn’t even the worst part. It was that Lexy was right.
What had I been thinking?
A boy like Lucas Hargrove didn’t belong with me.
Maybe outside the judgmental halls of high school we might have stood a chance. But that wasn’t my reality. My life was one where cheerleaders got the guys, not tomboys.
Chapter Twelve
Lucas
“Dude!” I scolded Grant. “Why didn’t you tell me the video went viral?”
“I don’t watch that crap.”
I continued to glare at my best friend.
“Okay fine, I didn’t want to add more to your plate with all you were dealing with.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal, Grant! Casey’s being attacked!”
Grant raised his hands in caution after our first period teacher gave us a warning look. “You need to chill. That’s the attitude that started all this stuff.”
“I am chill. I just don’t like seeing people bullied.”
Grant smirked. “By ‘people’ you mean Casey?”
“So what if I do?”
Grant raised his hands again.
“I can’t help it. There’s just something about her that makes me crazy, but in a good way. You can’t tell me you don’t get that after all the drama you went through with Alex. Plus, Casey’s so sweet and unassuming. You know I have a thing for the defenseless.”
“First of all, Casey Beeler is not defenseless. Secondly, I’m all for following your heart. I like rooting for the underdog, too. I’m just saying you need to chill. Maybe wait for this storm to blow over. You just got off your parents’ radar. You don’t want them to put you on lockdown again.”
“So what, you want me to just ignore Casey when she probably needs a friend most?”
“I’m pretty sure you want to be more than friends, Luc.”
“You know I do,” I grumbled. “And I don’t know if you’re qualified to give dating advice.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you were begging me to ask Casey to homecoming a few days ago because you can’t get your own girlfriend to say yes otherwise.”
Grant smirked and leaned back in his chair like he didn’t have a care it the world. “You’re right, go ahead, Luc. Ask Casey out today. See how that works out for ya.”
I scowled at the smug grin on my best friend’s face. I knew he was being sarcastic. I also knew he was baiting me. And since I knew myself, I caved quickly rather than drawing it out.
“Why shouldn’t I ask her out today?”
“No, you’re right,” he drawled. “I shouldn’t be giving dating advice. It’s not like I know how to date a tomboy or anything.”
Normally, I’d take Grant’s sarcastic humor in stride, but today my patience was running thin. “Grant! Just say what you want to say already!”
“I’m saying give it a few days before you profess your undying love for her in the halls or you’re only going to add to this scat squall.”
“Scat squall?”
Grant shrugged. “Alex told me the Arizona coach has a thing about bad language.”
I crossed my arms and exhaled in frustration. “You really think a few days will make a difference?”
“If I’ve learned anything from dating Alex, it’s that timing is everything.”
I turned my head back to the front of the classroom and dissected Grant’s words.
He was probably right about the timing, but that was part of the problem.
The stupid news video had catapulted Casey to high school celebrity status. Sure, a bunch of catty girls were gossiping and saying hateful things, but that was nothing the Tattler didn’t do on a daily basis. The thing that was new and concerning was the way the rest of the boys at Northwood were now looking at Casey.
She was on their radar and the sexy dress she showed up in today certainly didn’t help.
She looked like a young Audre
y Hepburn in that little black dress and pearls.
Lame reference, I know, but my mom made me watch that movie with her a million times. I swear, when I saw Casey in the halls this morning, I did a double take. I was so stunned by her beauty that I’d missed my chance to talk to her before Alex ushered her away.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it was partially jealousy that was driving my rash decision to want to lock Casey down as my date to homecoming now. But it wasn’t fair. I’d had my eye on Casey Beeler long before her video went viral. And now, when I was finally ready to make my move, so was every other boy in school!
Grant was definitely right: timing was everything.
After waiting this long, I didn’t want to screw this up.
I’d waited all summer. What’s a few more days?
But then again . . . if I waited too long, I might miss my chance entirely.
Chapter Thirteen
Casey
Could this day get any worse?
I’d just run the gauntlet that was Northwood’s cafeteria only to hear my name called over the loudspeaker as I was sitting down.
“Casey Beeler. Please report to the principal’s office immediately.”
Alex’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she looked at me from across our lunch table. “What’d you do?”
I groaned. “Who knows.”
“Maybe Principal Turner just wants to let you know all your video views got you nominated for an Oscar.”
“Well, if baseball doesn’t work out I guess I can always try out for drama club,” I muttered.
“See, you still have a sense of humor. It can’t be that bad.”
“I was being sarcastic, Alex!”
“Laughter is the best medicine,” she called after me as I hunched my shoulders and began to retreat back through the cafeteria toward the office.
I slammed into something hard as I made my way around the corner on autopilot. I was already apologizing and trying to move on when the familiar warmth of his hands stopped me abruptly. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you.”
I looked up into Lucas Hargrove’s gorgeous blue eyes and almost burst into tears. All I wanted to do was kiss him and beg him to tell me he didn’t care about all the awful things everyone was saying about me. But I was afraid I wouldn’t get that lucky. So I asked something else. “You’ve been looking for me?”
“Of course.”
He smiled and my heart raced. Maybe by some miracle he didn’t know about the videos and memes. He hadn’t known what I was talking about when I mentioned being viral at the batting cages yesterday. I also knew Lucas wasn’t super into gossipy stuff like the Tattler. Maybe I’d gotten lucky after all.
“I wanted to know how you’re holding up?” Lucas said giving my shoulder a squeeze.
I deflated. “You mean since everyone has been enjoying my film debut?”
He laughed. “I’m glad to see it hasn’t changed your sense of humor.”
“You and Alex both.”
He gave me a perplexed look. “What?”
“Never mind.”
I watched Lucas put his hands in his pockets as he nervously rocked back on his heels.
Was that a good sign—that he was nervous around me?
“So, um, I like your dress,” he said, finally breaking the awkward silence. “Very Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”
Omigod! Lucas Hargrove, you did not just make a Hepburn reference!
Could you be more perfect?
“You’ve seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s?” I asked, desperately trying to play it cool.
But I didn’t hear his answer. I was too busy looking at his lips for like the billionth time in the ten seconds we’d been standing here because all I could think about was how badly I wanted to feel them on mine again.
And now he was looking at my lips, too! His hands broke free of his pockets at last and came to rest on my cheeks. “It’s better to look at the sky than live there.”
I nearly gasped out loud. “Did you seriously just quote a line from my favorite Hepburn movie?”
“What? Did I say it wrong?” he asked as I felt my heart swell with unexpected emotion.
“No, it’s just . . . my mom and I used to watch that movie together.”
“Really? You don’t talk about her much.” His thumb grazed my lower lip and my breath caught.
I closed my eyes and sent up a silent prayer thanking my mom. I just knew she’d helped orchestrate this situation—me in this dress, wearing another mother’s pearls, standing here with Lucas and his Hepburn quotes. She was helping to make up for my atomically awful first day of junior year. And now, Lucas was going to kiss me, and everything would be okay again. More than okay.
I leaned in, feeling the warmth of his proximity spread through me as he whispered my name. But instead of his lips meeting mine, he just said my name again.
No wait . . . that wasn’t Lucas. The loudspeaker crackled and announced my name again, even louder this time.
“Casey Beeler. Casey Beeler. Report to the office.”
I swore under my breath. So much for my answered prayers. It seemed this day was out to get me. “Sorry, I have to go.”
“Is everything okay?” Lucas asked, his worry line appearing.
“Who knows. But I better go. Principal Turner hates to be kept waiting.”
“Tell him he has bad timing,” Lucas said, shoving his hands back in his pockets again.
“Story of my life,” I called over my shoulder as I hurried down the hall.
Lucas
I watched Casey’s silhouette grow smaller as she ran down the hall, her Converse squeaking on the waxed floor while her dress hugged her curves. Her quirky outfit summed her up perfectly. Dresses and sneakers. Ballgowns and baseball gloves. Somehow, she could move effortlessly between worlds like no other girl I’d ever known.
Casey was full of surprises and it was just one more thing I loved about her.
The L word again? Seriously, Lucas?
Who falls in love with a girl he’s never even been on a date with before?
Me, that’s who.
As I stood there chastising myself for my extreme lameness, I couldn’t help but wonder what Casey meant with her comment about timing.
It was too ominous to ignore considering my last conversation with Grant.
What did she mean by ‘story of my life’?
It was strange, considering that’s a phrase I often used to describe my own life. Sometimes my existence felt like a series of bad timing.
Like the time I’d broken my arm or gotten in a car accident or gotten puked on by the first girl I asked out. If I’d looked up a few moments sooner, I wouldn’t have collided with that runner and ended up in a cast for three months. If I’d left Grant’s house a few minutes later, I wouldn’t have gotten T-boned by that tourist who ran a stop sign. If it had taken me a few minutes more to muster up the courage to ask Katie Sawyer out, she would have made it to the trash can to hurl instead of puking all over me at the skating rink.
Ah, but then I wouldn’t have gotten that awesome nickname. And where would I be without all the laughs that came from the adorable moniker of Lucas Pukas?
Timing really was everything. Just a few moments here or there and I would’ve missed a whole lot of heartache and humiliation.
Sighing in defeat, I turned to continue my way toward the cafeteria wondering when I would finally figure out how to get the timing right. I certainly hoped it was soon because something told me Casey Beeler was someone I didn’t want to miss.
Chapter Fourteen
Casey
“I thought this is what you wanted,” my dad muttered under his breath as we walked to his office.
I heard his words, but I couldn’t focus. I was still reeling from the unexpected surprise that had been waiting for me in the principal’s office.
Being reprimanded for calling out my school on the news or perhaps unwittingly creating a viral video that the entire studen
t body was talking about, sure, I’d been expecting that. But a conference call with a representative from the National Women’s Softball League? That was the last thing I ever could have dreamed up. And when they told me they were giving our school an athletic grant because of me . . . I nearly fainted!
“Casey!” my dad snapped.
“Sorry,” I said, pulling my head from the clouds. “This is what I want. It’s just . . .”
“It’s just what?” my dad asked, pushing the door to his office open.
“It’s a lot of pressure,” I admitted, plopping down in his metal folding chair. “I mean that’s so much money. What if we can’t even find enough girls to field a team?”
“It’s a grant to start a softball program. No one is expecting you to break any records the first year. These things take time. The committee knows that. But that being said, we’re behind the eight ball here, kiddo. We need to get started recruiting. And since this is your rodeo, I’m going to expect you to help me head this up until we can find a coach.”
“Wait. You’re not going to coach us?”
“I’m a baseball coach, Casey. Besides, I can’t coach two teams at once.”
“I know.” And I did, but something that felt like panic settled in my stomach as I realized I’d never had a coach that wasn’t my dad. He’d always been a coach of some sort on all my teams. T-ball, peewee ball, heck he even volunteered at 4-H the year I decided I wanted to ride horses.
My fears must’ve been written all over my face because my dad’s voice softened and he called me by my childhood nickname, an endearing cross between Pipsqueak and Pippi, thanks to my pigtail phase. “Pip, I’m not gonna leave ya high and dry. I’ll stick with ya until we find the right coach. I’m just saying I’ll be putting some feelers out.” He smiled. “I’ve got some favors to call in. We’ll find you someone great to coach the Lady Trojans.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime, Pip.” He clapped his rough hands together. “Now, let’s get to work. I have some sign-up forms and waivers somewhere in my desk.” He began rummaging through drawers. “I’m gonna need you to post a flyer for tryouts ASAP.”