Mine, Not Hers (True Love Book 1)

MINE, NOT HERS

Book One in the
True Love
Series

BY BETSY ANNE

OTHER BOOKS BY BETSY ANNE

A Love We Deserve

Book Two in the
True Love
Series

A Model Romance

Book Three in the
True Love
Series

Text copyright © 2014 Betsy Anne

All Rights Reserved

To Henry, The love of
my
life.

Katie

What a cruel joke having to start my junior year in a new high school on Friday the thirteenth. I’ve never been overly superstitious, but this could change that.

My first two classes aren’t too bad. The rooms are so overcrowded that the other kids barely notice there’s someone new. The teachers hand me my textbooks without so much as a how do you do and steam ahead with the business of crowd control for the day. That’s fine by me; let me blend in. I have the early lunch period after my second class; I’ll be starving by three o'clock. The campus is busy today. The football team has a home game tonight, and there’s a pep rally after school. I couldn't care less. Football games are not my thing.

I make my way across campus to the cafeteria. It’s so large, it’s impossible to miss. The front and side walls are all glass, like a giant mirror. I catch my reflection and I look like I'm five years younger than everyone else. I can’t see in, but I feel the rumbling of the noise from inside as I approach. All I want to do is find a quiet corner so I can observe. I need to get familiar with my surroundings before I know how to behave. I watch the other girls closely. Maybe I can find a friend this year.

As I’m scanning the room, I notice the usual jock table. The football players are wearing their letter jackets, so they're easy to spot. There’s a small gaggle of girls that buzz around them like a cloud of gnats. I can’t help but notice a tall boy from behind; he seems to be the nucleus of the group. His hair is brown and wavy, and just touches the top of his jacket. He's broadly built, and the other guys are all paying close attention to whatever he’s saying. As I’m watching him, he slowly turns his head like he can sense that he’s being stared at. I catch his eye for just a split second. Wow, he is
gorgeous
. I don't bother trying to look away, because boys usually stop looking first. If I didn't know better, the look on his face is like he’s
trying
to find me. Of course, I know that’s not true. A guy like that owns high school, and all the girls in it. He probably has a steady girlfriend, gorgeous, head cheerleader, just like in sickening high school movies. Wait, is he blushing? He can’t be. A guy like that doesn't blush. Maybe he's just nice. Someone was probably making fun of me and he feels bad for looking. That’s got to be it. I pick up my backpack, thankful that I brought a couple of novels from home to give me something to do, and head out of the cafeteria. That’s enough embarrassment for one day.

My last class of the day is P.E. Ick. I’m not exactly the sporty type. Once the other kids get a load of my skills, I’m usually picked last for the teams. While our class is assembling, a girl comes up and introduces herself to me.

“Hi, I’m Colleen.  I haven’t seen you in this class before. I’m sort of new here, too, just a couple of months for me. My family moved to Chicago over the summer from Wisconsin.”

She seems sweet. We’re both trying to avoid the gaze of the P.E. teacher, so we pretend to help each other stretch before running. We’re forced to wear awful, school-assigned gray shorts and a black shirt. Doesn't do a whole lot for my already boyish looking shape. No date for the prom for me today.

The football team has already been excused early to warm up for the game tonight. They’re slowly gathering on the field, and they’re all staring at the girls in our class. Something in my mind forces me to look up, and I see a tall shadow coming out of the field house. I know exactly who it is. I can
feel
it. The afternoon sun is bright, and catches him in the eye as soon as he steps onto the field. When his eyes adjust he catches me staring. Great. Twice in one day. He abruptly stops walking in our direction like something has nailed his feet to the ground. He looks down and just as quickly turns on his heel and runs to the center of the field. Was he blushing again? He can’t be hot yet, he hasn't even warmed up! I stop my wayward thoughts in their tracks. Get a grip, Katie. I watch him subtlety, so as not to get caught looking again as he joins the rest of the team. My hands are shaking.

My new friend, Colleen, and I sneak back early to the locker room to change. There’s too much activity out there for the teacher to notice our leaving. Colleen loves to talk, which is good because I don’t. She lives just down the street from the school, so I agree to walk home with her. She babbles on as we walk.

“It’s so great to have another girl to talk to. Some of the other girls here haven’t been very nice. I have brothers at home, so any girl time I can get is awesome. Thank you for agreeing to walk home with me. I owe you one.”

She gives me a sideways hug. I can’t see how other girls have been mean to her. I call my mom when we get to her house, and she’s thrilled I found a friend already. Colleen and I feed her brothers dinner, macaroni and cheese, and decide that we’ll go to the football game since we’re desperate to get out of the house. At least we can walk to the game. We go to her room to have a little privacy and to freshen up before the game.

"I have so much makeup if you want to try some! My mom’s sister is a makeup artist and always gives me the extra she has. Have you ever worn any?"

I don't want to sound babyish, so I lie.

"Of course, I just don't have much of my own.”

"Great! I love doing makeovers."

She proceeds to dump an entire drawer of makeup on the floor, and we sit while she plays beauty salon on me. She's really good at it. She puts color after color on my lids, shakes her head, wipes down my eyes and starts over. She's having a little too much fun, and I'm beginning to get nervous. She ends up using just a little blue shadow and some mascara.

"Oh my gosh, you have the most beautiful eyes! They look so blue with the makeup, and your eyelashes are to die for. Just a little lip gloss, and we’re done."

I look in the mirror and I can’t believe it. I actually look like I belong in high school, and not the fourth grade. Thanks to Colleen, I’m excited to try out my new look tonight. I feel like I’ve made a friend for life.

* * *

We walk down to the stadium early to get the best seats. Not to watch the game, of course, but to check everyone out. Colleen doesn't know many of the other kids either, so it's a great way to eavesdrop and learn the good gossip. We choose seats up high behind the student section so we can watch all the drama unfold in front of us. She runs to get us some Cokes while I keep our seats. The team is suited up and out on the field. Helmets are on, but I can easily make out number fifteen. He's the tallest player on the team. The back of his jersey has the name Weber. A good place to start.

Colleen returns with our drinks, and I point him out to her.

"Do you know who that tall boy is? I think his last name is Weber."

She perks up.

"Jason Weber? The tall one? He lives down my street. He is
so
gorgeous. If I weren't so in love with Pete back home... Why? Do you like him?"

Uh oh. She seems too excited about this possibility. I better get her to back off now or I have a feeling I'll come to regret it.

"No, no. Just wondering. I think he may have been in one of my classes."

She looks deflated.

"I wouldn't think so. He's in all senior-level honors classes. He’s really smart. His younger brother and my brother are in the same class and our moms have gotten to know each other. He's very focused on classes and sports. No girlfriend, so he's eligible!"

"Sorry, Colleen, not interested. Not my type."

Unfortunately, that was true. Successful and gorgeous in high school never go for the invisible type in real life, only in the movies. I just can't understand the way he looked at me, though. I know a guy like that isn’t shy. He certainly wasn't shy in the cafeteria around all his friends. Colleen strikes up a conversation with a girl in the crowd that she recognized from her English class. She turns back around to me and looks excited.

“Guess what? We were invited to a party after the game. Do you want to go?”

Poor thing has a look on her face like it’s Christmas morning. She’s been so nice to me all day that I don’t have it in me to tell her I would rather die than go to this party. I bite the bullet and tell her I’ll go. When the game is over, we head back to her house to freshen up. She braids my wild hair and leaves a few tendrils along my face. She touches up my makeup, and sprays me with cologne. She looks thoroughly pleased.

"Are you ready?"

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

I’ve never been so nervous.

It’s already eleven by the time we walk over to the party. We hear the music thumping before we’re even close. I think I might be sick.

"Colleen, I don’t think I can do this. I don’t know anyone, and I don’t drink. What am I supposed to do?"

"Just grab a cup, no one will even know the difference. Follow my lead and we'll meet some new people. If it's unbearable, we'll go home and watch TV.  Fair?"

I nod. I’d better go, it's not worth the fight.

I take a deep breath as we approach. The front door is open, and people are spilling out of the packed house. We aren’t even noticed as we walk up, thank God. Once we’re in, a guy in the back of the room waves at Colleen. He motions for her to come over. The place is so packed; he’s definitely not making it to us. He’s standing with a group of guys who are clearly football players. Big and scratched up, with wet hair from post-game showers. I hear Colleen say that this boy helped coach her younger brothers’ football team. She doesn’t know his name, but he knows her, or would like to.

It takes us forever to get over to that side of the room. At my height, I’m staring at a lot of backs as we weave our way through the crowd. I walk with my head down behind her holding onto her shirt like we’re in a haunted house. Someone trying to rush through the crowd bumps me, and it sends me headfirst into Colleen’s back. The cup I was given as soon as we walked in the door spills down my shirt and down her back. We both scream from the impact of the cold, strong-smelling liquid we are now bathed in. I look up at the same time his head turns to see where the commotion is coming from.

It’s
him
.

I stare into the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen. I’m mesmerized. I’ve not yet seen him this close. His presence fills my senses; he smells so good, like fresh soap and musk. His hair is still damp from the shower, and it lies on his muscular neck just grazing the top of his jacket. His body is more imposing up close. He’s taller and more muscular than I’ve been able to tell from a distance. He must be at least a foot taller than me. His eyes are wide, and a strange look crosses his face when he registers mine. Why would he look at me like that? He doesn’t even know me! Of course I had noticed him, every girl with a pulse would, but he looks at me like he knows me, and isn’t at all pleased by the intrusion. He sees my dripping shirt, mutters something under his breath and walks away into the crowd.

His friends seem confused as to what made him walk away. They shrug their shoulders, and continue a heated discussion about the game. The guy who had called Colleen over is introducing her to the others in the group. I am cemented to the ground. Too embarrassed to speak due to my wet blouse, and too shaken by what has just transpired. It all happened in a matter of moments, but I’m struck deeply by the event. All I want to do is leave, and I turn and run. I maneuver the crowd like an NFL running back, never looking up. I slow down as soon as I make it out of the front door. I figure I can wait for Colleen outside; I just couldn't stay in there a minute longer. What is wrong with me? Am I that big of an annoyance that the most popular boy in school can't stand my presence? I get out of the way just in time as a large group exits their van and heads inside.

The night is getting chilly, and I shiver. I want to find a quiet spot to sit and wait. As I begin to walk around to the side of the house, I notice a figure leaning against the fence. There’s no mistake about who it is.
Great
. I can't turn around fast enough. I hope he doesn’t see me. I may as well just head back to Colleen's house, I’m sure she'll understand. As I start back in the opposite direction, I feel a large hand on my shoulder. It startles me and I jump.

"I'm sorry, I thought you may need this, it’s getting cold out."

He’s standing next to me holding up his jacket, and he’s trying to put it over my shoulders.

"Uh, thanks, I'm OK. I was just leaving anyway."

That’s all I can get out of my mouth before my voice dries up. He holds my gaze. Even though it’s dark I can still see his eyes. The look on his face is considerably different than it was in the house. What changed? He holds his stance for a minute, then lowers his proffered jacket. He doesn't make a move to say anything else; he just stands immobilized like a statue. I shrug, knowing when to give up, and keep walking. I keep my head up and practically sprint to Colleen's house. Her mom and dad are in bed already, and thankfully the back door is open. I slip inside and head to Colleen’s room to lie down. My head is reeling from the pounding in my ears from the party, the smell of my shirt, and the exchange between blue eyes and myself. This has been one of the longest days of my life, and I am so ready for it to be over. I shrug off my shirt and bra, put on an oversized tee of Colleen’s and fall sound asleep on her bed. I’m awakened by a giggle when she sneaks into the room. The clock says 2:30 a.m. She pounces on me.