The Boyfriend League (13 page)

J
ason and Mac. Mac and Jason. I couldn't sleep. Instead, I started working on my feature article, writing it from my perspective.

The hardest part about living with a Rattler?

Finding yourself falling in love with him when you promised your mom you wouldn't.

Who makes a promise like that anyway? Who thinks falling in love is something she has any kind of control over?

The door to my bedroom opened.

“Thought I heard you in here,” Tiffany said. “I wanted to get your opinion about something.”

I really wasn't in the mood. “I don't want to hear your new-and-improved national anthem.”

“Please, it's nowhere near ready to be shared. This is something else.” She sat on the edge of the bed, back straight, shoulders square. She was turning into Bree Van De Kamp from
Desperate Housewives
.

“Relax, Tiff. I'm not going to score your posture.”

“I am relaxed. Now here's my dilemma. The library and the ASPCA are cosponsoring an event next Saturday: Books 'n' Barks. As Miss Teen Ragland, I will, of course, make an appearance. But I want to do more, because the ASPCA takes in a lot of stray dogs, which are kinda like orphans, and as you're aware, I believe in helping orphans.”

She was so serious that as much as I wanted to laugh, I didn't. Instead I reached for my Rattlers autographed baseball and began tossing it between my palms. “Okay.”

“I mean, if I do the talk, I should do the walk,” she continued. “So I have an idea for something I could do to raise funds, but I'd need some volunteers. A lot of volunteers actually. But I don't know if anyone would want to do it, because it's really kinda yucky.”

“Do what?”

“Wash dogs. That's my idea. A dog wash. The event's at the park. They'll have all sorts of vendors selling dog stuff. People will bring their dogs. So I thought I could pay the booth fee and set up a dog wash. People would make a donation to have their dogs washed, and the money would go to the ASPCA.”

“I'm impressed, Tiff. That's a great idea.”

Her having a great idea was a sobering thought, because if she had in fact gotten brains, too…well, I'd been shortchanged.

I'm not sure how she did it, but she sat up even straighter. “Really?”

“Really.”

“But who would want to wash dogs? That's my dilemma. Because I sure don't want to do it.”

I rolled the baseball around between my hands. “Does it have to be the Tiffany Runyon dog wash?”

“Oh, no, I'm not doing it for my glory. I'm doing it to raise money for orphaned dogs.”

I turned to my computer, clicked on my browser, and pulled up the Ragland Rattlers
website. I went to their season schedule. Just as I thought. They didn't have a game scheduled for next Saturday.

“How about if you get the Rattlers to volunteer to wash the dogs?”

“Do you think they would?”

“Guys and dogs? Yeah, I think they would.”

“Would you talk to them about it?”

“It's your idea. You talk to them.”

“No way. I'd end up getting nervous and saying something silly.” She tapped her head. “Sometimes I can't believe what I hear myself say. It's, like, engage your brain before you engage your mouth.

“But you're great with those guys. And it's so obvious they adore you. Like at the concert, and the water park. And here at the house? Jason is so relaxed around you. You do things together. At Dad's party, all the guys were relaxed around you. You have things in common, things to talk—”

“Tiffany,” I said, cutting her off before she could go on even more. “Guys hang around you all the time. You've had, like, a million dates!”

“With a million guys. Dani, I go out with a guy only once or twice. And it's always soooo awkward. What do we talk about? Nothing. Because how many guys care about the best way to apply mascara or want to discuss the right shade of eye shadow? That's all I know. Beauty tips. So I try to fill the dead air between us and everything always sounds so stupid.

“Don't get me wrong. I
love
being Miss Teen Ragland. But seriously, the whole reason I entered the competition to begin with was to get a boyfriend. Hello?!? It didn't work. And the worst part? Sometimes I am so jealous.”

I stared at her, stunned by all she'd said. “Jealous of what?”

“You and the normal life you have.”

“It's not normal. I've never had a boyfriend.” I was beginning to have doubts that Mac truly counted. Yes, he was a boy, and possibly a friend. But true BF? No longer sure.

“You've got Mac. When we went to get drinks at the concert, all he talked about was how cool you were. And Jason? The way he looks at you sometimes…if Mom ever sees that look, the guy will be sleeping in his car.”

“How can you say that about Mac? I saw him wrapped around you yesterday—”

“Only because I asked. He is
so
cute. And I was having one of those green-monster moments.”

I couldn't believe it. Tiffany was jealous of me? How often had I been jealous of her?

“This look Jason gives me…tell me a little more about that.”

She shrugged. “He looks like he adores you, like crossing the hallway and knocking on your door crosses his mind sometimes. So, anyway, will you talk to the team? See if they'll volunteer to help out?”

I wanted a little more information about the look, but I knew Tiffany wasn't going to provide any more clarification.

“Sure, I'll talk to them. You could probably get Dad to donate some rubber baseballs the players could autograph. People could make a donation to get a ball to toss to their dogs.”

Tiffany flashed one of her dazzling beauty-pageant smiles. “Oh, I like that idea. This could actually be fun.”

 

“A dog wash?” Bird repeated the next morning.

I'd called her to let her know I needed to talk. She was making her Scoopin' Poopin' runs and had invited me to ride along with her.

I shrugged. “Could be interesting, in a guys-in-wet-T-shirts kind of way.”

“Hmm. Hadn't thought of that. Still, it's going to be a lot of work, and you'll be the one who ends up doing it.”

“Whatever. It's for a good cause. Orphaned dogs. But that's not really why I called.”

“Didn't think it was.”

“I was just sorta wondering…have you ever noticed the way Jason looks at me?”

She looked in her rearview mirror, looked in her side view mirror.

“Bird?”

“I'm thinking.”

“It's not an essay question. It's a yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Thought you said no essay.”

“Come on, Bird, how does he look at me?”

She sighed. “He looks at you like you're something he wants and can't have.”

I gazed out the window at the houses passing by. “When have you seen him looking at me like that?”

“When have I
not
seen him looking at you like that?”

“Why didn't you say something?”

She held up a finger. “He lives in your house.” Another finger. “I thought you liked Mac.”

“I'm so confused, Bird. I wanted a boyfriend.”

“And you have one,” she said.

“Right. Mac. The problem is, I like Jason so much. And I'm just discovering that maybe he likes me, too. But it would be too weird, with him living in the house.”

“Then stick with Mac.”

“Is that how you feel about Brandon? That you're ‘sticking' with him because he's convenient?”

“No way. I'm totally crazy about him.”

And that's what I was discovering. It wasn't enough to have a boyfriend. I wanted someone I was crazy about. As much as I liked Mac, the truth was, he wasn't Jason.

 

It didn't help matters that the first dog I washed Saturday morning was named Jason. Who gives their dogs people names?

Bird and I had gotten to the park early. We wore oversized T-shirts over our bathing suits and our Ragland Rattlers caps. We'd found spigots, attached water hoses to them, and dragged the hoses to the area designated for our “booth.” Even though it was really nothing more than a table and an open area on a knoll where we all had room to move around.

Following the Friday practice, I'd had the guys sign up for the time slot during which they wanted to wash dogs and the time during which they wanted to sit and autograph the rubber balls Dad had donated. Then we had guys sitting at a table, assigning people to a wash team, and taking the donations.

For the first shift, Bird and Brandon were a team, Mac and I were a team, Jason and Ethan were a team. I took control of my team's water hose. Hosing down a dog was a lot less work than lathering him up. Or at least I thought it would be.

Dog-Jason was a black Lab that wanted to play, and he kept trying to leap on me. When Mac and I were finally finished with him, I had wet paw prints all over me.

We sat on the ground, waiting for another dog to be assigned to us.

“That was kinda fun,” he said.

“Yeah, it was. And we're helping orphaned dogs.”

He glanced around. “Thought you said Tiffany was going to be here.”

“I'm sure she'll drop by eventually—as Miss Teen Ragland.”

“She is so hot.”

“Excuse me, but you're talking about my sister here.”

He jerked his head around, his eyes wide. “That was totally uncool, wasn't it?”

“Totally.”

“Sorry.”

Before I could decide whether or not to accept his apology, someone brought over a Lhasa apso. A sweet little dog that was no trouble to wash. But Mac and I still got sprayed
when it did its whole shaking thing to get the water off.

When we were finished, I glanced over at Jason, watching as he washed a little excitable white ball of fur that kept yapping. His efforts made me smile.

“He really likes you, you know,” Mac said quietly.

I jerked my head around and stared at him.

He shook his head. “That's what the other night was about. Out on the mound, getting into it going to the dugout. He didn't think I was being a very good boyfriend.” Mac started pulling up blades of grass. “The thing is, you and me, I didn't really think of you as my girlfriend. Come the end of the summer, I'll ride into the sunset and not look back.” He looked over at me. “So if you're not cool with that…”

I swallowed hard. “I'm not sure I am.”

“Well, think about it. I'm going to go get us something to drink,” Mac said.

Before I could offer any sort of response, he was gone. They'd set up concession booths throughout the park. You could even buy
treats for your dogs.

I sorta wondered if he'd even bother to come back. Although he'd used different words than Jason had, he was basically telling me to figure out what I wanted. Who was the right guy?

I glanced back over at Jason. He was still struggling with the little dog. I couldn't help it. I released a bubble of laughter. His head came up, as though he knew I was laughing at him.

“You think this is funny?” he asked.

I shrugged. He sprayed me.

“Hey!” I yelled. I turned on my hose and sent a volley of spray back.

The dog's owner scooped his pet up, said something to Jason I couldn't hear, and walked away.

Jason rose from his crouch, hose in hand. I got to my feet, holding up one hand in defense.

“Okay, look, I didn't mean to laugh—”

He sprayed me again. I shrieked and let him have it, full force. He tried to dodge the spray, tried to hit me with his water, but I darted out of the way, keeping my hose aimed at him. He was getting drenched, absolutely soaked, and I started laughing. It's difficult
to run when you're laughing so hard that your sides are hurting.

Jason lunged for me, took me down, somehow rolling so he hit the soaked ground—taking the brunt of the impact—and I landed on top of him. We were both smiling broadly, breathing heavily, totally wet.

Looking into his laughing eyes, I felt as though I'd been slammed with another foul ball.

I was crazy about this guy, absolutely completely crazy about him.

His smile dimmed. His gaze wandered to my mouth. I could see clearly how much he wanted to kiss me. And I knew he wouldn't.

So I kissed him.

And he kissed me back.

“Excuse me, but we're supposed to be raising money for orphaned dogs.”

I looked up to find Tiffany standing there in jeans; her Miss Teen Ragland sash draped across her gold, sparkly tank top; and her tiara reflecting the sunlight enough to give me a headache.

I don't know what possessed me. But I sprayed her.

She released a shrill screech, backed up, and glared at me, with water dripping down her face. “I can't believe you did that!”

“You need to relax,” I said as I scrambled off Jason.

“Excuse me?”

“When was the last time you had fun?”

“I'm here as—”

“I know. Miss Teen Ragland. But this is your setup, your idea.”

She jerked back as I reached out and grabbed her hand.

“You're gonna wash some dogs,” I said.

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

I pulled her toward where I'd left the shampoo. “Hey!” I yelled to no one in particular. “I need a dog and a couple of guys to help.”

Mac stepped in front of me. “I'll help her.”

When had he returned?

“Mac—” I could tell he'd seen me with Jason. I don't know what I was going to say. Apologize? Tell him I had thought about things?

“We make a lousy team, anyway,” he said.

I wasn't sure I'd go so far as to declare us
lousy, but he was giving me an easy out. Gratefully, I took it.

Grabbing the hose, he looked at Tiffany. “I'll do the work, you spray the water.”