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Authors: Melissa Darnell

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“Miss Savannah…” Amber joined us at the table. “Why don't you take this for me.” She handed me the receipt and a pen.

Her expression was innocent-looking, but her eyes gleamed with mischief. Apparently she'd picked up something from Greg's greeting and approved of him.

I took the paper and pen back to him.

“So…” he said as he pocketed the receipt. “Do you have any idea how many Colberts there are in this area?”

I laughed. “I don't know. How many?”

“Four. Strange thing is, no Savannahs seem to live with any of them.”

“Mmm. That's interesting to know. Of course, if you had simply asked for the correct number in the first place…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, but one corner of his mouth stayed up in a half smile. “Now may I please have your phone number?”

“Okay.” Giving in, I reached for his wrist, turned his palm up and wrote my number on it. “I didn't know you worked at Pizza Shack.”

“I don't. I talked one of my friends into letting me ride with him while he makes his deliveries tonight. Everybody knows about this little shindig y'all have every year.”

I peered around him and saw the delivery car idling at the end of the cement ramp that led to the front foyer doors. The driver stuck out an arm through his open window and waved at me.

I laughed and waved back. “Nice friend. Though you
could've just waited until school started and asked me for my number then.”

“Wait two months to take you out? No way. Besides, you'd probably have a boyfriend by then. So do you mind if I beat out the competition and ask you for that date now?”

He thought he had competition for a date with me? My pulse sped up. “Um, sure, now's fine.”

“Okay, how about next Saturday? I could pick you up at six for dinner and a movie?”

“Sounds great.” I struggled to keep my smile casual. But inside I was leaping around shouting,
My first date!

He smiled at me, and it was the nice smile I preferred. “Okay, I'll call you later and get directions to your house then.”

Nodding, I stepped back, eased the door shut and watched him jog down the cement ramp to the waiting car. Then I returned to the gym, grinning so hard I must have looked like an idiot. But I didn't care. Greg was no Tristan Coleman, but he was funny, charming, easy to be around and pretty good-looking. And he'd just asked me out on my first date.

Amber laughed and gave me two thumbs-up, then promptly turned and told Captain Paula that I was dating Greg Stanwick.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of pizza, snacks, giggles and gossip as the team broke up into small groups to eat and lounge around on our sleeping bags and blankets. Thankfully, just like with Michelle, all my new teammates seemed to require from me was an interested listener who laughed or looked shocked, depending on what gossip they had to share. I fell asleep half worried that I would wake up with toothpaste in my hair and shaving cream on my face. But Mrs. Daniels must have forbidden pranking in order to preserve the team-bonding atmosphere. The party ended at
nine the next morning when our parents came to pick us up. In the already muggy, way-too-early morning heat, the girls left in a flurry of laughter, sleepy chatter, hugs and the tinkling music our bracelets made when we moved. Music that I, too, carried everywhere I went now.

Nanna immediately noticed my smile. “Must have been some party.”

The light feeling inside me bubbled out as laughter. “It was.” I replayed the evening for her, hesitantly including the part where Greg asked me for a date.

“You just met this boy last night?”

“No. I met him a couple months ago in the cafeteria. Then I ran into him again at the lake party last week.” I opted not to mention that I'd gone with Greg for a ride on his Jet Ski. No way would Nanna like that. “So can I go out with him? He's not in the Clann.”

She glanced at me with a frown. “Do you think that's wise? What with the changing, and all?”

My mood deflated a bit. Jeez, why couldn't they just let me forget and pretend for a while that I was normal? “Nanna, everything's totally under control.” Or at least it had been for the past month.

She sighed. “Well, you are turning sixteen in a few months. I guess we can't keep you locked up forever.”

“So is that a yes?”

“That's a very reluctant yes,” she replied with a small smile. “But you have to promise to keep your phone with you at all times. And don't hesitate to call me or your parents if anything happens or you start to feel weird—”

“I know, I know.” I shook my head. After weeks of no new developments, I seriously doubted I would suddenly get a mad craving for Greg's blood. And as for everything else weird about me, well, that really was under control.

All I had to do was remember not to make direct eye contact with Greg. Piece of cake.

What I wasn't so confident about was what I would wear for my first date.

CHAPTER 8

Savannah

I shouldn't have worried about my first date with Greg. Not only was he a total sweetie with the best manners I'd ever seen in a guy—opening doors for me, asking what movie I wanted to watch and where I wanted to eat afterward—but he didn't even get grabby at the end of the date, and only kissed me on the cheek at the door when he took me home.

The best part of the date was how much he made me laugh. I'd never realized before how little I laughed.

So when he asked if he could see me again, I said yes. And this time, I didn't hesitate.

And then somehow the summer just flew by. I didn't get to see my friends much, what with the church and science camps and family vacations that went on all summer, and the Charmers practices and fundraisers filling up my own schedule. Not to mention seeing Greg at least twice a week. In a lot of ways, he was even easier to talk to than they were. He had nothing against the Charmers, so he didn't mind that I was a manager for the dance team.

A detail I hadn't quite told my friends about yet.

I knew eventually I'd have to tell them. But I was waiting for the right time, or the right setting, or…something. Okay, the truth was I just didn't want to have to deal with their negative reactions about it until I absolutely had to. Just because they didn't like the dance team didn't mean I had to share their view.

I did tell them about Greg, though. They seemed mildly curious about him and wanted to meet him officially when school started back up.

By the time school began in mid-August, Greg and I had been dating for two and a half months. And I still hadn't told them I was a Charmers manager. Which was exactly what I was deep in thought about when I reached our usual table in the cafeteria for lunch only to find Greg already there waiting for me.

We hadn't really talked about who would sit where each day, so I was a little surprised and worried as he kissed my cheek. None of my friends had ever had a boyfriend sit with us. Probably because none of them had ever had a boyfriend, at least that I knew about. Would they be okay with Greg joining us today, or should he just say hi then go eat with his own friends?

“Oh, hi, Greg.” I held my smile in place even as three pairs of curious eyes stared at us.

“Hey.” He gave me a sweet grin, then turned toward my friends.

“Oh, right.” Quickly I introduced everyone, appreciating how he made a point to say hi or hey to each girl. Michelle giggled her hello. Carrie gave a cool nod in response. Anne just stared at him with one eyebrow raised.

“So, listen, do you ladies mind if I sit with y'all today?” At their blank looks of shock, he held up both hands as if in
surrender and added, “I swear I won't butt in every day of the week. Maybe just every other day, if that's all right with you?”

I expected Michelle to answer first. She liked everyone but the Brat Twins.

Instead, Anne was the one who said, “Sure, pull up a chair. I'm sure we jocks can all find something to talk about together. Right?”

Carrie laughed in agreement, and half the tension melted from my shoulders.

We all dropped our stuff at the table.

Then Greg turned to me. “Ready to grab some lunch?”

I nodded and walked beside Greg toward the lunch line in silence, feeling as if the whole cafeteria was staring at us the entire way. Even as a Charmers manager, I was still pretty much a nobody for the gossip mill, so it must be because of Greg.

We didn't say anything as we waited in line then chose our lunches. The great thing about hanging out with Greg was that, not only was he really easy to talk to, but he also didn't mind the occasional silence.

As we neared the cashier, he said, “I keep thinking it's because you're nervous around me, but I just realized…you're not like most girls, are you?”

My shoulders stiffened, my heartbeat instantly kicking into overdrive. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Most girls would be talking nonstop by now.”

The air eased out of my lungs. I forced a smile. “My grand mother says you learn more by listening.”

“Uh-huh. And yet we've been dating for nearly three months now. So what's left to learn about me?”

It was my turn to shrug. “Does anyone ever fully know anyone else?”

His eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything. We paid for our lunches. Greg went first then waited for me to pay for mine. Once I had and we moved a few steps away, he smiled at me and said, “Well, when you figure out what else you want to know about me, just ask, okay?”

Too bad I couldn't be so open with him in return.

“Want me to grab you a soda?” he offered, jerking his head at the soda machines twenty yards away. “Orange, right?”

“Sure. Want me to take your lunch for you?”

“Good idea. Thanks.” He handed me his tray, leaning in to kiss my cheek in the process. My cheeks burned as we headed in opposite directions.

“He is cuuute!” Michelle squealed as soon as I reached our table.

I had to laugh and nod in agreement as I sank into my seat.

“And polite.” Carrie sounded surprised.

“He's a former Boy Scout,” I added, then had to pause. Was that…pride I was feeling? Good grief. I was turning into a total Neanderthal, thrilled to show off my “catch.” And we girls always griped about boys and their trophy girlfriends.

Shaking my head at myself, I joined my friends in digging in to our lunch. It was necessity, not lack of manners. With only a twenty-minute lunch break, we didn't have time to wait for Greg's return before eating.

A few minutes later, Greg jogged back to the table with our drinks. “Sorry, stopped to tell my friends where I'd be today. I promised them I'd try to talk you into meeting them tomorrow.”

Was meeting his friends a big deal? It felt like it, but then again, Greg was my first boyfriend, and I was completely clueless as to how it all worked.

“Um, sure, I'd like that.” Working not to grin like an idiot, I focused on popping the tab on my soda. Something clinked against the side of the can. Oh, crap, my Charmers bracelet.

Anne glanced toward the noise, did a double take then grabbed my wrist. “Hello. Anything you want to
mention?
” She held up the team-logo charm with her other hand like it was dirty underwear.

“Um, yeah. I…I'm a manager for the Charmers this year.”

The air heated up over our table in a matter of seconds. I could practically see it turn red and start to boil, fueled by Anne and Carrie's combined fury. A matching sensation of heat flowed over my skin, despite my usual efforts at shielding all the emotions around me. Ouch.

Maybe Greg's presence would at least make them bite their tongues until they had a chance to calm down and get over the news.

“Oh, congrats!” Michelle's smile faded as she glanced at Anne then Carrie. “Or…not?”

“The Charmers?” Anne spat.

Or maybe they could care less what Greg thought of them.

“A
manager?
” Carrie added, her voice even louder. Several people at neighboring tables turned to stare in our direction.

“Shh, keep your voices down,” I muttered, my cheeks warming up. “You two are acting like I committed a crime or something.”

“Committing. Present tense,” Anne corrected. “You've lost your mind, Sav. Why in the world would you want to have anything to do with that bunch of spoiled brats?”

“And as a manager, too. That's just another name for ‘gofer girl,'” Carrie said.

I sighed. This was exactly why I'd held off telling them about it all summer. “It's not like that. And they're not like
that, either. Even you guys have to admit you never found out for sure who started that rumor last year.”

The JV and varsity JHS Maidens volleyball teams were convinced the Charmers had spread a rumor last year that all the volleyball players were lesbians.

“Oh, please.” Anne dropped my wrist as if it had morphed into weeks-old garbage. “Who else would have started it?” She flopped back in her chair hard enough to make her ponytail bounce. “I can't believe my best friend just signed on to be a fetcher for the pampered-princess club.”

Enough already. “That's not fair, Anne. The Charmers actually work really hard. You should have seen them practicing this summer. And did you know they're about to start twice-a-day practices, both at six-thirty in the morning
and
every afternoon after school? Even varsity volleyball doesn't practice that much.”

Mrs. Daniels had given the team this morning off since it was the first day of school. But tomorrow we all started the two-a-days. I was so not looking forward to having to be here at six-fifteen every weekday. Making it here by eight last year had been tough enough. At least I wouldn't be expected to run and dance and leap around at that hour of the morning.

“Varsity soccer doesn't practice that much, either,” Greg said in between bites of pizza.

“Maybe the Charmers have to practice more because their dancing sucks more,” Anne said, shooting him a dark look.

Miraculously, he smiled and shrugged it off.

Rolling my eyes, I flopped back in my chair in silence. I wasn't going to argue anymore about this. They didn't have to like it, but they would have to get over it. I did not live my life to please my friends, much as I cared about and appreciated them. I was already doing way too much bending over backward for my family and the vampire council.

“I'm done. See you later,” Carrie announced a few minutes later to no one in particular as she grabbed her things and left.

“Don't worry, she'll calm down,” Michelle whispered as she jumped up and grabbed her things. “Nice to finally meet you, Greg.” She gave a hasty smile and wave before she took off after Carrie.

“Carrie will get over it,” Anne said on a sigh. “But
I
might not.” Which meant, of course, she would. Eventually. Sighing, she picked up her books and tray. “See you later, Stanwick.” He raised his cola in reply, his mouth too full to speak.

She gave me one last glare. “See you tomorrow, gofer girl.”

“Bye,” I muttered.

I watched Anne stomp off. Should I go after her and apologize? For what, though? For not checking with my friends before picking an extracurricular activity? Give me a break. I did not need their approval.

Though it would have been nice to have it.

Awkward silence filled the table for several minutes as we watched my friends leave the cafeteria. Hopefully they would chill out by tomorrow.

“Guess we'll be finishing up here alone today?” Greg broke the silence first as the chaos of the lunchtime crowd flowed around us.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I guess I should have told them before now.” I prayed the blush would fade from my cheeks soon. Preferably immediately.

He leaned over and bumped shoulders with me. “Well, you sure know how to clear a table.”

I laughed. “Blunt much?”

He shrugged with an apologetic smile. “I'm told it's curable, but the pills aren't working lately.”

Shaking my head, I finished eating then wiped my mouth and sighed. “They'll get over it. Eventually.”

“Why don't they like the Charmers?”

I explained the rumor to him. “But no one ever found out for sure who started it. Now they just hate all the Charmers automatically.” I caught Greg's confused look and laughed. “Ridiculous, I know. I think it's really just a team thing. Like chow the cheerleaders hate the Charmers and girls' volleyball teams, and vice versa. A few of them are brave enough to cross the lines and have friends on the other teams, but mostly they all seem to think their own team is the only good team to be on.”

“And you're one of those girls who cross the line, huh?”

Holding back a laugh, I shook my head. “You know, I could take that the wrong way.”

It took him a few seconds to get it. When he did, his cheeks turned ruddy and a cute, embarrassed smile tilted his lips. “I meant…”

Laughing, I grabbed my lunch tray. “Yeah, I know what you meant. But you should know…they're not usually like this. When the Clann kids decided to start ganging up on me in athletics in junior high, Anne and Carrie and Michelle nearly got into a fistfight with them.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“They'd just really rather I kept playing volleyball with them instead of doing the Charmer thing.”

“You used to play volleyball? Why'd you quit?”

I stood up, grateful the bell was about to ring. “That's kind of a long story.” One involving a series of events where I managed to accidentally take out part of a tiled gym ceiling, bloody Carrie's nose and get tangled in the net…all at the same tournament. “I'll tell you about it…later.” As in never. No way did I want him to know what a klutz he was dating.

We headed for the trash cans. While I dumped my tray, he
asked, “So why don't the Clann girls like you? Is that some sort of a team thing, too?”

“Uh, no, that's a Clann thing,” I muttered, just as the bell rang.

“Hey, where's your next class? Maybe I can walk with you there.”

I checked my class schedule. “History with Mr. Smythe.”

“My bad luck. That's in the portable buildings on the east side. My next one's over in the computer building on the north side. Guess I'll have to settle for walking you to the catwalk.”

I had to admit it was a little thrilling when Greg held my hand and led me out the doors and up the steps to the catwalk. No actual tingles from his touch, but the contact was still nice. So was his smile as he said “See you tomorrow” before he kissed my cheek then walked away.

Okay, the boy was
yum.
I would never faint over him, but he was definitely sigh-worthy. And allll mine.

My first real boyfriend!

A small sigh slipped out of me as I turned and headed the other direction toward history class.

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