The Kissing Deadline (10 page)

Sierra grinned though, she saw it coming
too.

Amber’s head swung toward Ryan. “What?” After
a long pause she said, “Well, if you have an understudy, I guess
you don't need the star. It’s your decision, Ryan.” She removed her
arms and folded them beneath her chest. The position gave her
cleavage maximum lift.

Cassie knew she wouldn’t win in a cleavage
contest. “It’s okay, Ryan. I'll…”

Amber smirked and arched an eyebrow at
Ryan.

Ryan turned his back on Amber and shoved
through the exit. “Come on, Cass.”

Sierra pushed her forward and Cassie stumbled
after him. It was nice of Ryan to make sure she had a lift, but who
wanted to be in the middle of a couple fight? Cassie trailed him
slowly, betting Amber would make her sit in the back. She wondered
if the backseat was as small as the one in the Yaris.

Amber slapped the hood of Ryan's car and
headed to her own car, a convertible. She raised her hand high and
chirped her keys at the golden car. The roof lowered at her
command. Amber tossed her bag in the back and hopped in without
opening the driver’s side door.

Okay. Cassie grabbed the handle on the
passenger side of Ryan’s fancy sports car, lowered her head and
slid into the bucket seat. The plush cream-colored leather molded
around her. The driver’s door slammed, enclosing her within new car
smell and the deep fragrance of his cologne. She breathed in,
enjoying them both, not used to either. “Uh, you have a really nice
car. Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome.” Ryan started the ignition.
The engine kicked on with a powerful, smooth rumble. “My parents
gave it to me when they split up. Sorry, Mom's moving out, but hey,
here's a nice car.” He shifted into gear and hit the gas. It took
his whole body to work the car. He had one hand on the wheel, one
on the gear shift, and his feet worked the pedals. Cassie couldn’t
understand why anyone would want a stick but had to admit the ride
was smooth. The wheels flew over the parking lot and they reached
Quinn Street in a blink.

Cassie’s heart rate raced at the speed, and
she looked at Ryan in alarm, noting the ticking muscle in his jaw.
“Can you wait to wreck it ‘till I'm not in it?” She tried to keep
the squeak out of her voice, but feared she failed when he took the
corner, and the force pressed her back into the leather seat.

Ryan glanced over at her and laughed. His
shoulders dropped with the motion. “Yeah.” He shifted into a lower
gear.

Cassie released her grip on the dash. The
logo under her hands depicted a prancing stallion on a yellow
shield. She recognized the symbol from one of the posters on
Spencer’s wall, and gasped. “Is this a Ferrari?”

“It was a really bad breakup.”

“Oh. I thought they called you
Ferrari
because you're on the track team.” Sierra’s nicknames weren’t
usually so literal. She knew he had a sports car, but not the
brand.

“No.” He pursed his lips and shifted into a
higher gear. “Who calls me that?”

She ignored the question. ”Don't you dare
wreck this car.” Ryan laughed and Cassie reached up to pat the logo
and tried to lighten the mood with a stupid joke. “You should paste
a dragon over the horse. Show some school spirit and all.”

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes,
and shifted again. “No.”

Ryan lived close to school, so the drive
didn’t take too long. She’d never been inside, but she knew which
was his–the big one. He drove through an entrance gate, down a long
driveway then parked in the circle at the front of a long,
two-story Tudor house. The style of the home matched a Bentley more
than a Ferrari, but Cassie doubted he complained.

His phone buzzed. Ryan read his text message
in the sudden silence. “Amber's going to a party.” He got out,
slamming the driver’s door. Cassie opened her door and patted the
side. Even Toyotas shouldn’t be slammed. She started to tell Ryan
something along those lines, but he didn’t look like he wanted to
hear a lecture from the carless.

He took the marble steps two at a time, typed
in a code and went in the double doors. A gust of cold
air-conditioning greeted her along with the smell of perfume in the
foyer.

A stack of Louis Vuitton suitcases lay
against the base of a wall fountain. Ryan tossed his backpack by
the stair rail and stared at the dark brown luggage. “Great. Mom's
back this week.” He gave a bag a small push with his foot. “Or,
maybe she's just leaving. It’s hard to tell.”

A door slammed overhead. A woman’s voice
yelled, “Then Ryan can choose. Me or you? Go ask him.”

Cassie’s eyes widened. That was bad and so
unfair.

Ryan headed toward the marble staircase. His
fists were clenched and his posture rigid.

“Hey,” Cassie said, hoping to distract him.
“Before we start rehearsing, maybe you could get me a cookie?” Her
mom comforted her and Spencer with cookies all the time.

Ryan stopped mid-pace. He glared upstairs a
long moment before turning. His words were tight. “You want a
cookie?”

“A lot.”

In a decisive turn, he moved away from the
staircase and took a left out of the foyer. The argument above them
quieted with each step and by the time they reached the kitchen,
she couldn’t hear his parents at all.

The kitchen gleamed and the granite counter
tops held all kinds of baking gadgets. Mom would love it. Ryan took
out two glasses and sat them beside a cookie jar. Cassie lined them
up, like in lab. Before she could protest, he put his hands on her
waist and lifted her onto the counter then pushed the cookie jar to
her. She offered him a piece of shortbread. He took the bite,
lifted a gallon of milk from the fridge and filled the glasses.
When he finished, he leaned against her leg and stared out the
window. He felt tense against her, his body stiffening more with
each slam from upstairs.

There were a number of slams. She noted that
slamming must be a family trait.

“It’d be nice to come home and know what I
was walking into.” Ryan ran a hand over his face. “Sorry, I don’t
know why I’m complaining to you.”

“We’re friends.”

He nodded. “We are.” He glanced toward the
foyer. “All those people are coming over. It’s enough that you had
to see this.”

Cassie searched for a way to lessen the
uncomfortable situation. The view from the window caught her
attention. “Your pool looks nice.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe we could have rehearsal out
there?”

His jaw eased a little. “Okay.”

A woman dressed in black appeared, wearing an
apron, carrying in a tray.

Ryan said, “Hi, Mrs. Katz, would you mind
setting up by the pool house instead?”

The servant placed the tray on the granite
counter. “Certainly, Mr. Ryan. I'll send your guests around
back.”

* * *

Cassie sank to the edge of the pool, and
skimmed her feet over the water while Ryan propped open the gate
with a small Poseidon statue. The water felt surprisingly warm, so
she let her feet drop into the heated pool. The water drifted,
silky against her calves and her feet floated up, buoyant. The pool
had a mild ocean smell rather than a chlorine smell, must be a
saltwater pool.

Ryan finished his task, dropped beside her
and put his feet in too. She flicked water at him. “Poseidon, huh?
Does he--”

“About the Trust Fall…” He wiggled his
eyebrows.

“We're not doing it.” Cassie rubbed the back
of her head to emphasize her point. The wind blew her hair forward,
trailing over her face, blowing in the scent of apple from her
shampoo. She thought about tying the strands up somehow, since
Sierra wasn’t coming and wouldn’t know. Maybe she even had a stray
scrunchie in her backpack. But the water was too nice to move away
from for now.

Larry was one of the first to arrive. He
plopped down beside them, crunched the script in his hands, and
read aloud. Every few words, his tongue jetted in and out of his
mouth. “How much for a shiny…”

Not long after everyone got there, the door
to the house opened, and Ryan's parents joined the actors by the
pool. They were both tall and attractive like Ryan, and she
couldn’t tell from their faces that they’d just had a screaming
fight. A servant handed them drinks from the tray, and Ryan tensed
beside her.

“Hi, welcome,” Ryan’s mom said. “So what's
going on out here?”

“We're rehearsing the school play,” Ryan
said, his tone hid his feelings as he introduced everyone.

“How lovely, dear, the arts are so
important.”

His father said, “Can you do that and
soccer?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, good,” his mom said. “You kids have
fun.” She left them with a smile, and his dad followed her back
into their house like there’d been no problem only thirty minutes
before. The servant circulated with the tray of fancy appetizers.
Ryan, who was usually quite hungry, only took one. Taking two,
Cassie nibbled on the edge. The tidbit consisted of some kind of
seafood stuffing wrapped in fried dough. “What do you feed the
statues?” She’d spotted several other miniature gods near the pool
house.

He looked at her with rolled eyes, and she
pushed the second basket toward his mouth. Opening, he let her
shove it in.

* * *

After the others left, Cassie followed Ryan
out.

“Ryan, dear, wait up a sec,” his mother
called.

Cassie said, “I’ll meet you at the car.”

Ryan nodded with pinched lips and slipped
back through the gate. “Why don’t you stay?” Cassie overheard Ryan
ask his mom in a low voice.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“You should try harder. All couples
fight.”

Cassie knew she should move on, but she
couldn’t make her feet walk forward.

“You’re with Amber now,” his mom said. “But
one day you’ll break up with her, and you’ll understand. Girls get
left all the time.”

* * *

A new banner hung on the wall of the school
lunchroom. The STOP logo floated above a photo of Amber wearing
disposable purple gloves. The text read,
Cover up and Save
Yourself
then in small print:
photo
by Paige
Goehl
. Mounted underneath was a container of gloves. The
adjacent sign encouraged students:
Don’t be shy, take a
pair
.

Coach Ameen drew Cassie’s attention by moving
into position behind a lectern. “Listen up. I’m announcing this
year’s Spring Fling court.” His tone didn’t reflect the honor of
making the big announcement.

Cassie didn’t blame him. She didn’t feel
honored to hear it. Amber got off her chair and sat on the edge of
the table, an expression of anticipation upon her face.

“Sophomore Princesses are…Amber Scott.”

Amber screamed and did a seated high
kick.

“Rachel Lynds, Megan Elizat, and Paige
Goehl.”

The three nominated girls ran over to hug
Amber. Rachel got there first. She sported three STOP flags. Megan,
dressed in pastel pink had none.
Flash.
Paige used her
camera to shoot a self-portrait.

“What a bunch of drama,” Sierra said. “Like
it’s a shock. Three cheerleaders and Front-Page Paige.”

Brennan hugged Megan in congratulations and
smacked a kiss on her cheek.

Staring between them, Amber licked her lips
and handed Megan a STOP flag.

Megan froze, staring at the red warning and
her face flushed.

“I hope Megan wins,” Cassie said.

“Or Paige,” Brooke said.

“Or Rachel,” Sierra said.

Coach shuffled some papers. “Your Spring
Fling Princes are…Trevor Collins.”

Trevor threw his arms in the air as if he
were in a stadium. He started a student-wave chain that circulated
through the crowd and made it all the way around the cafeteria.

“Joseph Williams.”

Joseph jumped up and did a little jig while
jabbing his fists into the air as if jogging. He finished with an
extended demonstration of air guitar. If the cheers from the band
geek table were an accurate indicator, he nailed the band vote with
that move.

“Brennan Wayne.”

Brennan gave two thumbs up and dashed over to
the lectern to take a bow, then ran back toward his lunch table. A
few feet from its edge, he took a leap, slid across the laminate,
and struck a pose. Sierra had to bite her lip, and Cassie could see
the nicknames forming behind her eyes.

“And Ryan Spaeth,” Coach Ameen finished.

More students cheered for Ryan than any of
the other guys.

Ryan smiled and waved, but stayed seated. He
appeared the least like a tool.

Squealing, as if in terrible surprise and
joy, Amber ran to him and threw her arms around his shoulders.
Flash.
Paige snapped the photo.

Mike raised his eyebrows at Ryan. Ryan
shrugged, and Mike rolled his eyes.

* * *

Trallwyn High School Dragon Scoop: Thursday,
March 8th

Congratulations to our Spring Fling
court:

Princesses: Rachel Lynds, Megan Elizat,
Amber Scott and Paige Goehl.

Princes: Trevor Collins, Brennan Wayne,
Joseph Williams and Ryan Spaeth

No student parking in lot C for any
reason.

The tiara rested atop Amber’s cheer curls.
None of the other nominees wore their princess tiaras to class.
Cassie wasn’t sure why the hairpiece irritated her so much, but it
did. Folding her legs under her chair, she tugged her plaid skirt
closer to her knees and glanced over at Ryan to make sure he wasn’t
wearing a crown. No crown.

“What?” Ryan asked.

Cassie tapped her pencil on their tabletop.
“Where’s your crown?”

“You gonna start with me?”

Cassie stretched out her arms, enjoying the
pull of muscles then rested her cheek on her upper arm and faced
Ryan. “Maybe.” She didn’t want to work on the cell lab and watched
as he prepared the wet mounts for their specimens. “What’s the big
deal about parking in lot C?”