Complete Nothing (17 page)

When the bell rang, I pushed myself out of my seat, shouldered my bag, and speed-walked toward the hallway. I had to get to the gym for the pep rally, but before that, I wanted to find Claudia and give her a final pep talk (ironically) about tonight. The sand in my sand timer was getting close to the halfway mark, which meant we didn’t have that much time to make Peter Marrott wake up and smell the love. I didn’t need to sneak a peek at Orion to see if he was, by chance, sneaking a peek at me. I was focused. One hundred percent focused.

It wasn’t my fault that I had to take a small detour and walk past Orion’s easel as he bent to gather his things into his backpack. Some
girl had left her tennis bag in the aisle, so I really had no choice. As I passed behind him, I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could, longing for a whiff of his scent. Then my eyes fell on his easel and I froze. My throat went entirely dry.

It was a painting of his arrow. The arrow pendant I had given him months ago inside our cabin in Maine. The arrow that now hung around my neck.

Slowly, casually, I reached up and tucked the pendant under the collar of my white sweater. At that moment, Orion sat up and our eyes met.

“Oh, hey!” he said with a smile.

I searched his eyes for some spark of recognition. Surely if he remembered the arrow, he remembered me. There was nothing.

“Hi.” My gaze darted past him to the painting.

“Oh, don’t look at that,” he said, blushing deeply. “It sucks.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I told him as he rose to his full height, shouldering his backpack. He was wearing his blue-and-white football jersey, the number twenty-two outlined in silver, and somehow the uniform made him even hotter. Maybe I really was becoming a human girl. Every last one had seemed to stop and almost faint every time a football player passed by in a jersey today. “Why did you . . . I mean, what made you paint that?”

I rested my hand just below my collarbone, flattening it against the arrow beneath the cotton weave of my sweater. Orion’s brow knit as he looked at his own painting.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “It’s weird. I’m always seeing that arrow in my mind for some reason.” He stared at it until someone dropped a tray of paintbrushes, and the clatter seemed to awaken him. “Who knows? Maybe I was a Native American warrior or something in a past life.”

My heart lurched at the words “past life.” He had no clue how close he’d come to hitting on the truth.

“Or maybe you’ve seen it somewhere before?” I suggested. “Does it maybe have some significance to you?”

He frowned and lifted a shoulder. “I don’t think so.”

As he turned away from me, I grabbed his arm to stop him. He looked down at my hand first, before meeting my eye.

“Because some people say that a true artist paints what’s in his heart,” I said, my own heart slamming so hard against my rib cage it had to be bruising itself.

Orion turned to fully face me. He looked deeply into my eyes, searching, searching, his face looming closer. I could scarcely breathe. He was remembering. Finally! He was remembering. I hooked my finger around the silver chain on my neck, ready to pull the arrow out.

“Wow,” he said quietly. “That is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

And then he laughed. My face burned brighter than the hot sun in the midday Death Valley sky. Anger burbled beneath my skin. Anger at him for not remembering and for mocking me. Anger at Zeus for sending him here to torture me. Anger at myself for continuing to put myself out there when clearly, I was only going to get rebuffed.

But that was what love was about, right? Taking chances. Baring one’s soul. Too bad it hurt so damn badly.

“Hey, True!”

Wallace walked up to me, his backpack securely strapped to both shoulders. He looked handsome in a gray T-shirt with the word
FRINGE
across the front, and a pair of well-cut jeans.

“How’s the phone working out for you?” he asked.

“Good! Oh, I got the number activated last night. Let me give it to you,” I said.

He whipped his own phone out of his back pocket. “Go.”

I recited the digits. He typed them in, then snapped my picture and looked at it. “You are very photogenic,” he stated.

I blushed. “Thank you.”

“We’d better go. Gotta get set up for the pep rally.”

“Oh. Okay.” I looked at Orion reluctantly. “Want to come?”

“That’s okay,” he said stiffly. “I’m meeting someone anyway. And there she is now.”

Then, without so much as a look over his shoulder, he turned and sauntered off down the hall, where he joined Darla Shayne. She ran her hand over his shoulder and down his arm, looking him over in an appraising, covetous way.

Get off!
I thought.
Get away from him!

They headed for the stairs together, and I narrowed my eyes, imagining the heel of her red shoe breaking, seeing her plummet down the stairs. As they reached the top step, she wobbled and I took in a breath, looking away. For a moment, I’d forgotten I could actually make it happen. I grabbed Wallace and stomped off toward the gym.

Enough was enough. It was time to find Claudia and get this show back on the road. Before I slipped up and accidentally killed Darla Shayne.

The entire team was gathered just inside the door to the locker room, listening as the gym filled up with voices. Sneakers squeaked on the polished floor. There was a peal of feedback. People laughed and talked, and a couple of chants broke out. I grinned at my teammates. This was it. The first pep rally of the season. I couldn’t help it. I opened the door a sliver and peeked out. The bleachers were jam-packed, wall-to-wall.

Gavin leaned in and whistled. “Man. This never gets old.”

I closed the door and rubbed my hands together. “I know, right?”

“I can’t believe we’re seniors,” Lester said, shaking his head. “This is our last first pep rally of the year.”

The smile fell from my face. My heart thunked. “Way to be a downer, dude.”

“Pete! You’re never gonna believe this!” Mitch Ross shoved his way through the crowd and stood panting in front of me.

“What?” I asked.

“Claudia’s going out with some guy from St. Joe’s,” he said, delivering the news as if he was half-pissed to know it and half-psyched to be the one to tell it. “Tonight.”

“What?” Gavin blurted.

“Now
that’s
a downer,” Lester pointed out.

Out on the court, Principal Peterson brought everyone to attention and started his opening speech. I swallowed hard, feeling as if I hadn’t had a thing to drink in days. “Do you know who it is?”

Mitch shook his head. “Apparently, she’s keeping it on the DL or whatever. But what the eff, man? She’s dating the enemy? The night before our game?”

The energy drained right out of me. What the hell was Claudia doing? And why? Did she hate me so much that she had to make me look like a total tool in front of everyone? Every single member of the team was staring at me. I had to keep it together. If I broke down right now—if I showed any weakness—they’d think I was a total loser.

“Whatever, man. Claudia can do whatever the hell she wants to do,” I said. “I dumped her ass.”

A few of the guys laughed. I saw them exchanging glances, and I knew I’d said the right thing. But inside, I was boiling. A guy from St. Joe’s? I couldn’t even imagine Claudia looking at someone else, let alone sitting at a table with someone else, laughing with someone else. . . .

Kissing someone else.

God. I was gonna hurl. I was gonna hurl right on Gavin’s new kicks.

“And now! Your starting lineup!” Liza announced into the microphone.

Was he on the team? Was he good? Was he good-looking?

“First, your defensive line, starting with number fifty-six, junior linebacker Josh Moskowitz!”

Josh broke through the crowd, yanked open the door, and disappeared.
The roar of the crowd was deafening. I imagined Veronica Vine cheering for him. Him finding her in the crowd and smiling. That kid was so lucky. He had his girl. He knew where he stood. And he wasn’t thinking about how this was his last first pep rally, because it wasn’t. At that moment, I would have killed to be Josh Moskowitz.

As Liza announced each member of the team, the crowd around us thinned out. Finally it was just me and Gavin left. He clapped his monstrous hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t think about her right now, man,” he said. “This is our thing. Enjoy it.”

“And now, the captain of the defense! Number sixty-seven, senior defensive end Gavin Dunnellon!”

Gavin gave me a tight smile and ran out. Suddenly I was alone in the locker room, and my head was filled to bursting with images of Claudia. Claudia standing out there waiting to cheer for me when she was really thinking about some St. Joe’s tool. Those pitying faces on the guys a few minutes ago when Mitch had made his announcement. My fingers curled into fists. I wasn’t some loser whose girlfriend went out and dated other guys. I wasn’t some dork who got left behind. I wasn’t pathetic.

“And now, the moment you’ve been waiting for! Number eleven! Your senior quarterback and captain of your Lake Carmody Rams, Peter Marrott!”

I yanked open the door and jogged out, grinning as widely as humanly possible. I ran right by Claudia and didn’t even give her a glance. Then I did something that surprised even me. I took a left, grabbed Josie out of the line of cheerleaders, and kissed her in front of the entire school.

Josie let out this surprised squeak before she sank into me, and
the crowd went freaking crazy. The whole thing took about five seconds, but it felt like the best five seconds of my life. I was Peter Marrott. King of the school. And I was living in the moment.

*  *  *

Later that afternoon, I lay on my back on the weight bench, pressing, pressing, pressing. Sweat poured down my temples and puddled behind my ears. I clenched my teeth. My muscles quivered. Just five more reps. Four. Three. Two. I let out a huge grunt and hit the last one, then dropped the weights on the ground, gasping for air.

It was already after six, and most of the guys had bailed hours ago. Coach had told us not to work too hard. He didn’t want to wear us out before tomorrow’s game. But I couldn’t go home. Not yet. I was too pent up. Too pissed off. I crooked my arms and lay the back of my hands against my forehead, staring at the lights sunk into the ceiling while I tried to catch my breath.

I wondered what Claudia was doing right now. Was she really out with some guy from St. Joe’s, or was that just a rumor? Maybe she was actually at home with Casey, baking something for my spirit basket. If she was even still making me a spirit basket.

I laughed under my breath. Who was I kidding? Of course she was. Claudia would never back out on something she said she’d do. Even though I’d broken up with her, I couldn’t imagine her dissing me like that. She was too good for that. Unless maybe she was busy baking for this new guy she was going out with.

The idea made my fists clench and I bit down on my tongue. “Sonofabitch!” I shouted, sitting up. Josh Moskowitz and Trevor McKay looked over at me from the corner, where they were spotting each other. “Sorry,” I said. I couldn’t believe that the second I’d stopped working out I’d started thinking about Claudia. It
was like there was some kind of malfunction inside my brain.

“Everything okay?”

I glanced at the door. Josie had just walked in, wearing the tiniest cotton LCH shorts imaginable and a white tank top. Her hair was in a ponytail. She’d clearly just come from cheerleading practice, her chest shimmery with sweat. I was instantly turned on.

“Yeah. M’fine,” I said, reaching for my towel. I wiped off my face and tossed it aside.

“Good.” Josie straddled the weight bench in front of me. Our knees touched. “Because some of the guys were saying you’d had a bad couple of days. I thought I’d come in here and see if you needed some cheering up.”

Her eyes traveled up and down my body as she said this, then over my arms and down to my hands.

“That was some kiss at the pep rally,” she said.

“Uh, we’re gonna go get some Gatorade. You want anything?” Josh asked, hightailing it for the door with Trevor on his heels. McKay stared at Josie’s breasts the whole entire way.

“No thanks, man.”

They slammed the door to the weight room—the door that was always propped open—behind them. Josie and I were very, very alone.

“So.” Josie took my hand and placed it on her thigh. Very high up on her thigh. Then she did the same with the other hand. “Do you need some cheering up?”

My pulse pounded in my ears. My lips throbbed. “Um, maybe.”

She slid forward onto my lap in one motion so quick I never even saw it coming. Just like that, her legs were wrapped around my waist and her breasts were pressed up against me and thoughts of Claudia were obliterated from my mind.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” she said.

And then she kissed me. And it didn’t matter who Claudia’s new guy was or what I would do to him if I ever met him. All that mattered was the hot girl in the tiny shorts with the grabby hands who clearly wanted no one but me.

“Do you think he’ll come to the door?” Casey asked, leaning sideways to peek out the window while letting only a very minimal part of her body show. “Peter always came to the door.”

“Of course he’ll come to the door. He’s a gentleman,” my father said, still in his shirt and tie, though he’d lost the suit jacket. He cast me a sidelong glance, his blue eyes teasing. “He
is
a gentleman, right, Claudia?”

“Very polite,” I replied. I looked around at my family, remembering the first time Peter had come to pick me up. They’d hovered that night too. They were pretty good at hovering in general.

“I don’t know about this,” my mother said. “Going out with some boy so soon after breaking up with Peter. I don’t like it.”

“It’s just one date, Tanya,” my father said in a placating way. “It is just one date, right? Not planning on running off and marrying the boy.”