The Backup Girlfriend (Grove Valley High Book 2) Page 10

  I nod my head agreeably as he mentions an area where I know a lot of students from Liberty live.

  He pulls away from the curb, and a silence settles over us as we drive along with his music blaring.

  This is our second date. We met up yesterday for just over an hour and drove around and ate ice cream. Then he had to go home and help his mom with something, but before he left, he made me agree to another date tonight.

  If I’m totally honest, yesterday didn’t exactly set my heart on fire or anything, but he was nice enough and I didn’t have any other plans for tonight, so I agreed.

  If nothing else, it’s an excuse to test out my new eyeshadow palette.

  After twenty minutes or so, we turn left down a street, and immediately the sound of a party hits my ears. Cars are parked up on the side of a street, and a medium-sized house is blaring music and has a steady line of people streaming toward the front door.

  Now that we’re here, I’m not sure if I can be bothered with this. It’s going to be a major effort to be nice to a bunch of people I don’t know and probably will never meet again.

  “Don’t be nervous,” he says with a small smile on his face, completely misinterpreting my lack of enthusiasm for nerves. Honestly, I’d rather be at my sister’s house chilling with her and watching movies.

  I get out of the car and meet him on the curb, where he promptly swings an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. I resist the urge to step away from him. It’s not that I don’t want him to touch me, at least not necessarily, but it’s annoying that he just assumes he can when this is only the second hour I’ve ever spent in his company.

  We walk into the house, and my suspicion that all high school parties are pretty much the same is immediately confirmed. The place is packed full of kids, and they’re talking, laughing, dancing, shouting, kissing, grinding—pretty much the same as they do at Grove Valley parties. The only difference is that I don’t recognize any of these people and don’t give a damn about who they’re hooking up with or what gossip they’re creating for Monday morning.

  Dan’s hand drops from my shoulder and he instead takes my hand, pulling me along until eventually we end up in some sort of den and he’s greeting some people who look vaguely familiar from the times we’ve played their school in sports.

  He turns to me and introduces me to the people he’s talking to. The guys all smile and nod while I wave, knowing I’ll immediately forget their names, while the girls are altogether more hostile, narrowing their eyes in my direction and exchanging glances between themselves.

  Yeah, now that I’m here, I really can’t be bothered with this.

  Dan whispers in my ear that he’s going to find us some drinks then disappears, taking with him a couple of friends and leaving me behind with the girls who aren’t even pretending to be friendly. I have the unsettling realization that any of these girls could be his ex-girlfriend and I wouldn’t even know it.

  I decide to make an effort. “So, you guys looking forward to college?”

  All I get is blank faces as they look between each other. Clearly they’ve decided, probably before tonight, that they don’t like me.

  “Okay then.”

  “So what’s the deal?” a dark-haired girl finally says. “Run out of guys over at Grove Valley?”

  I’d slap her if it wasn’t the exact same thing I’d be saying if she were at one of our parties.

  Yup, the next couple of hours are definitely going to drag.

  Two hours later, the alcohol is starting to relax me and give me some sort of a buzz.

  It seems to have done the same to the other girls, because after an hour of them telling me what a bitch I’ve always been to them when they were playing against us, apparently not to their faces but just comments and looks I gave them, and how I should be more like “that girl Sophie who is always friendly to everyone,” they’ve finally started to let up and be semi-accepting of me. Part of that is because of Dan—I get the impression he’s a pretty big deal to them (more than one of these girls definitely harbors a crush on him and isn’t very good at hiding it)—and part of it is because I dated Chase. For some reason, that earns me a certain level of respect among them, because Chase is just that hot (which only reminds me that I’d rather be at a party with Chase than here with Dan), and finally, it’s probably mainly because of the round of shots they’ve all just thrown back.

  Dan is definitely getting more confident too, which is saying something because he wasn’t exactly shy to begin with. He’s standing so close to me that there’s not even an inch between us, and his hand has ‘accidentally’ grazed my ass more than once.

  I’m really trying here, but I’m just not that into it.

  “So how come you finally decided to call me?” he whispers in my ear, tugging me away from the group so we have some space against one of the back walls.

  I shrug. “High school’s ending.”

  “That the only reason?”

  He wants me to tell him I’ve been crushing on him for years and couldn’t stand another day without us hooking up. “Pretty much.”

  He smirks, like he thinks I’m joking. “So what happened with you and Mitchell then?”

  I blink. “Chase?” He wants to talk about Chase with me right now?

  “Yeah.”

  I look away for a second, trying to think about something to say that isn’t going to make it completely obvious that I’m struggling to get over him, and my eyes snag on someone by the door.

  Brett Sanderson.

  What’s he doing here?

  I watch him for a second or two, and he looks about as bored as I do, standing next to another guy who looks strikingly similar to him. He looks up for a second, and our eyes lock. I raise a hand to greet him, surprisingly relieved that there’s someone here from my school, someone I know and can talk to, but he just scowls at me and turns away.

  Well that was rude.

  I really don’t like that guy.

  “Abigail?”

  I turn back to Dan, who is looking at me expectantly. “Yeah?”

  “What happened with you and Chase Mitchell?”

  “Uh, well, you know, we’re really young. Things just fizzled out.”

  “Yeah? I heard he’s hooking up with that hot soccer player who won them state.”

  I can’t help glaring at him. If he knew that then why did he ask?

  He chuckles at my response. “Hey, don’t get pissed.” He takes a step closer to me, pressing up against me. “He’s an idiot. I know who I’d pick.”

  Yes, well, I don’t particularly care who you’d pick. It’s who Chase picked that bothers me.

  “You know Chase Mitchel is overrated, period.”

  I look up at him, and it’s clear he’s expecting me to agree.

  “He’s not even that good at soccer.”

  That’s when it finally clicks for me. Is he jealous of Chase? Is that what this is about? Am I only here because I’m Chase’s ex and he think this might piss him off?

  If he thinks that then he’s got another thing coming.

  “You don’t like Chase, do you?”

  He shrugs, trying to act casual, but I can see right through him. I’m about to open my mouth and tell him he’s wasting his time if he’s trying to piss Chase off by dating me when he steps forward, pushing me back against the wall, his right hand firmly gripping my hip and his other arm leaning against the wall next to my head.

  “I think we’ve talked about Chase Mitchell enough for one night.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  His eyes lock with mine, and despite myself, my breath hitches just a little at his close proximity. I don’t particularly care if he is using me, or if he’s just happy to have another girl because he’s dated everyone of interest to him at his own school, or if it’s just feeding his ego that I finally agreed to a date with him. Right now it’s pretty clear that he is attracted to me; I can physically feel it, and it feels nice to be wanted aft
er being rejected for the last couple of months.

  His eyes drop down to my mouth, and my hands reach out to lightly touch his waist.

  He grins at me. All pretence to this is gone. He knows we’re about to kiss, I know we’re about to kiss, and the look we’re sharing right now makes it pretty clear that it’s not just going to be a peck on the lips.

  He presses his hips forward again against mine, and I’m done waiting. I lean forward and meet his kiss with my own.

  And…it’s fine.

  Just fine.

  Not bad. He definitely knows what he’s doing, but the minute we start kissing and his hands start to gently run over my body, I know this isn’t someone I’m going to stay up at night thinking about.

  He pulls away and looks down at me, a small smile playing on his lips.

  Oh, what the hell?

  I reach for him and pull him in again for another kiss.

  He’s into it, and I need a rebound. Who cares if it’s not going to be some epic romance?

  Apparently not me.

  10

  Brett Sanderson is surprisingly difficult to track down.

  Now that Chase has put his idea for the party/auction into motion and thanks to Livy I have somehow managed to semi-organize a bake sale for Monday, I really should be thinking about my grades and how to pull them up.

  I’ve been trying to keep an eye out for Brett today, looking out for him in between classes in the hallways, but I couldn’t find him. I’m just about to give up on him for the day when I see one of the guys he was eating lunch with when I first approached him, the guy whose hair is just as messy today, and he tells me where his locker is.

  I have to turn around and trek down two different hallways, but I eventually spot him at his locker as he talks to some guy.

  “Hey Brett,” I call out as I approach.

  He looks up at his name, but when he spots it’s me, he doesn’t exactly look happy about it.

  I stop in front of him, surprised by how tall he is now that he’s standing rather than sitting like he was in the cafeteria, and I paste on my most charming smile. “Hey, how are you?”

  He narrows his eyes at me as his friend mutters a goodbye then scuttles away. I watch as he leaves.

  “Something I said?”

  Brett shrugs. “Just the effect you have on people.”

  I scowl, but he doesn’t look the least bit remorseful about his comment, even though he knows nothing about me. He grabs another textbook, shoves it into his bag, and closes his locker.

  “So I saw you at that Liberty party over the weekend.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I waved at you.”

  “I know.”

  He’s not even pretending he wasn’t being rude by ignoring me.

  “Well I was just trying to be nice and say hi.”

  “I’m surprised you had time to see anyone with that guy attached to your mouth all night.”

  “Hey! It wasn’t all night.” And it wasn’t. We didn’t starting making out until two hours into the party, and then, yes, we carried on for the rest of the night, but honestly it was just because we didn’t have much to say to each other and it seemed like the logical thing to do.

  He sighs, like I’m completely boring him. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, tutoring! I was thinking we should probably—”

  “Deal’s off.”

  Sorry—what?! “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not tutoring you.”

  I try to contain my temper. “Yes, you are. We agreed on it.”

  “Well I changed my mind.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Look, I don’t know what your problem is with me.”

  He just rolls his eyes.

  “Seriously, you don’t even know me and you’ve been nothing but rude to me since I first spoke to you.”

  He snorts.

  “You’ve just made all these judgments on me based on nothing. I never even met you until a couple of days ago, you were rude to me, and you completely ignored me at that Liberty party. Don’t blame me just because you didn’t have someone to make out with.”

  “Are you kidding me? You are unbelievable, do you know that?”

  “You’re the one who has a problem with me for absolutely no reason.”

  “You really think we’ve never seen each other out in public before?”

  I throw my hands up. “I don’t know. How would I know?”

  “I was the one who stopped you from faceplanting right after you’d hit on your ex’s best friend at that party a couple of weeks ago, right before you dragged his other friend into the bathroom.”

  What?!

  I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  He doesn’t say anything else, just stands there waiting for me to figure it out.

  Oh damn. Dammit, he’s right. That’s why he looks familiar. He’s the guy I fell over by in Aaron’s kitchen, the one who helped me steady myself.

  Well, that’s embarrassing.

  “Coming back to you?” he asks me dryly, guessing from the look on my face that it’s clicked with me.

  “Yes, well thank you for that. I was having a bad night.”

  “Yup. I saw.”

  I really am never going to live that night down.

  “Whatever. Let’s figure out a day to start our tutoring.”

  “I told you, I’m not doing it.”

  “Yes you are. We agreed!”

  “Well we also agreed on a time after school last week and you never showed and haven’t spoken to me since.”

  Shit.

  Double, triple, quadruple shit. I did do that, didn’t I? We were supposed to meet in the library after school last week and I just went home to get ready for my date with Dan without a thought. “I forgot. I’m sorry.”

  “That was the only day I don’t work right after school, and I wasted nearly half an hour of it waiting for you.”

  Well now I feel terrible. “I really am sorry.”

  He shrugs. “Too late. My time is precious, and you don’t get to waste it.” Then he swings his bag over his shoulder and strides off without giving me a second thought.

  “Hey! Hey, stop!” I rush after him. “Wait.” I manage to catch up. “Being a little dramatic aren’t we?”

  He shrugs, pushing his way through one of the side entrance doors then cutting across the grass toward the student parking lot, and I have to quicken my pace to keep up with him.

  “I mean, you agreed. It’s pretty poor form if you back out of it now.”

  He smirks. “Poor form? Some might think leaving someone waiting in the library after school for an hour is poor form.”

  I scoff. If he thinks I’m going to buy that then he’s got another thing coming. “Okay, quit the bullshit. You did not wait for me for an hour. You just said it was half an hour.”

  “I was there until after four. You can check with the librarian.”

  “Even if I cared, I’d have better things to do than check with the librarian.”

  He stops dead in his tracks and whirls to face me. “Even if you cared? Nice. That attitude you’re wearing is really helping me to change my mind.”

  I roll my eyes. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant I’m not going to go around chasing after you.”

  “Really? Because it kind of looked like you chased after me out here.”

  Boom.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s just agree on a new time to meet up, you can explain calculus to me, and we can all move on.”

  “You think I’m going to be able to explain calculus to you in one hour?”

  “Hey, I’m smart…I’ve just fallen behind.”

  “So you said.”

  My face burns because I am smart. I know I am. I’m just not the most academic, and I’ve let my grades slip. School has just sort of gotten away from me. “You know, you don’t have to be such a dick.”

  “Wow,
more flattery—you’re really good at this.”

  “Sasha Bridges.”

  He doesn’t say anything to that.

  “I know you like her. I’ve been paying attention, and you definitely watch her when she walks past.”

  “Well done, Sherlock. Do me a favor and don’t join the police force after school?”

  “Huh?”

  “I told you I liked her,” he replies blankly. “That’s why I agreed to tutor you, so you could get me a date.”

  “So what’s changed?”

  “I’ll ask her myself.”

  I snort. “If you were going to do that, you’d have asked her already.”

  He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

  “You tutored her last year—you would have asked her already if you had the guts to do it yourself.”

  “How do you know I tutored her last year?”

  This time it’s me who crosses my arms.

  “Because she told me…when we were talking about you.”

  That definitely grabs his attention, even though he’s trying his hardest to act unbothered.

  After a beat… “What else did she say?”

  A sly smile curls my lip. “I’ll tell you right after we have our first tutoring session.”

  He scowls. “No way.”

  I raise an eyebrow, expecting him to fold, but when he opens his car door and throws his bag inside, I know he’s not going to.

  “Fine!” I snap. “She said you’re really nice.”

  He turns back to me. “Nice?” He says the word like it tastes bad.

  “Yes.” I watch his expression. “There’s nothing wrong with being nice.”

  “Sure, because Chase Mitchell was always so nice to you and that’s what kept you running back to him.”

  My jaw drops open.

  “Look, I have to go.”

  “How dare you comment on my relationship with Chase?”

  He snickers. “Comment? I hate to break it to you, Abigail, but it was a soap opera we all watched for three years. Some kids probably set up blogs about it.”

  I scowl at him, although I can’t deny his description. It was definitely as ridiculous as a soap opera with all the drama at some points.

  “Do you want me to set you up with Sasha or what? You know she’s one of my best friends, and she listens to me. If I tell her to date you, she’ll do it.” She will, too. Sasha is pretty easy-going, and it wouldn’t take much to talk her into giving Brett, someone she already thinks is cool, a date. I’m just not going to tell him that in case he figures out he can do it himself and I have no collateral over him.