The Way to Game the Walk of Shame (6 page)

BOOK: The Way to Game the Walk of Shame
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His words made me feel like an idiot. And I hated that feeling. But he couldn’t just take away my speech and give it to
Lin Cheng
. That girl had it out for me since we were in kindergarten. It wasn’t my
fault
I colored inside the lines quicker than her. Or that she was always in second place. Now third, since Brian had moved to town and kicked us both down a spot. But you didn’t see me being bitter about it all the time. Much.

Wringing my hands together, I tried to look contrite. “I’m sorry about your obligations and your bills, but I can handle it! I swear!”

“Then you’ll have nothing to worry about. This isn’t a punishment. Maybe later you and Lin can even work together on it. Help each other out.” He leaned back in his chair and nodded toward the door. “That’s it. You can leave now.”

Yeah, right, she’d help me. More like help herself to all the credit and my hard work.

I wanted to argue with him, but to my horror, his face got blurry.
Damn it. Not now. Don’t cry.
Maybe when I was safe at home in my soft gray sweater that fell past my knees, but I couldn’t cry here. Not in front of everyone.

I don’t know how or when I left the class, but next thing I knew, Brian was standing in front of me, shielding me from the other people still lingering in the halls. Without saying anything, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me into the library’s empty media room. I wanted to lean against his warm shoulder—god, I was so tired—but I kept my back stiff instead, determined not to show weakness. He shut the door and stood in front of it with crossed arms. I didn’t know if it was to prevent me from leaving or anyone else from coming in.

I leaned against one of the bookcases and scratched at the fading blush polish on my nails. There was barely any trace left from the time my mom pulled me out of school for a mother-daughter manicure date. I was so annoyed afterward, because I’d missed the review session in calculus and ended up getting a B on the test. Especially since that was the first class that Brian had barely squeaked by with an A. If I had been at the review, I would have gotten an A+ and could have finally beaten him for once.

Ironic, since I would kill to get out of school now. Bring on the pedicures. Hell, I’d even perm my hair like a poodle to get out of here.

I let out a deep breath and rolled my tired shoulders before straightening up. “So thanks for, you know, before,” I finally said to Brian and reached for the stuff in his arms.

“No problem.” He released my binder and the papers before shrugging. “Sorry if I’m being nosy and overstepping my boundaries, but what the hell are you doing, Taylor?”

I glanced down at the folder of articles in my hands. “I’m going to organize some ideas I had for the next issue of
New Voices
. We should focus on the background people this time. Stage crew for plays, water boys in games. That sort of stuff.”

“That’s a good idea, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I meant about all this Evan stuff.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a horrible liar, Taylor.”

Of course I knew what he was talking about. That’s what everybody was talking about. If only Brian would be intuitive enough to get the hint that I didn’t want to talk about it. For a smart guy, he could be really stupid sometimes.

We’d only been friends for a little over a year, but it felt like a lifetime. Surprising, since I’d despised him from the start. Brian transferred to our school early last year. And within one semester, I was shoved down from number one in the class—a spot that I had all to myself for the past two years—to number two. And the most infuriating thing was that he didn’t even have to put any effort into being number one. He didn’t wake up early each day to study in the library or come to school with dark shadows under his eyes from cramming all night like I did.

It was also pretty annoying that he was so darn
likable
to everyone. He did great in school and was average in sports. Good enough to have people invite him to games, but not good enough to be the star and have everyone hate him for being perfect.

Even though I hated him for stealing my spot, I liked him. He understood and put up with me. And he was perfect for me. I always figured that we’d get together someday. It just made sense that we would. Preferably after we were settled in college and on our career paths.

Brian wasn’t in-your-face gorgeous like, well, Evan, but he was handsome in his own way—tall and lanky with broad shoulders and straight black hair that pointed in all directions. The disheveled look contrasted with his crisp, well-fitting clothes: He opted for dark dress jeans and button-down shirts rather than T-shirts and khaki cargo pants.

From the neck down, he looked like a
GQ
model. From the neck up, he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. Yet he made it work. I loved a well-dressed guy in a tie. Add in a vest, and I was putty on his shiny shoes. Carly always made fun of the fact that while other girls fantasized about football players and firemen, I’d swoon over a businessman in a suit. What can I say? I had mature taste. He also had dark, soulful eyes that made my knees weak, although his were black rather than gray like Evan’s.

I squeezed my eyes closed, determined to shake the images away. Why couldn’t I get Evan out of my head? He wasn’t my type. T-shirts and holey jeans were his uniform.

Although … I bet Evan would look smoking hot in a pair of dark-wash jeans and a casual pinstripe vest. Maybe paired with a dark-gray button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves that perfectly match his stormy eyes and—
thwack!
I smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand. Why the hell was I dressing up Evan in my mind like he was my own personal Ken doll? Most girls would be doing the opposite.

A hand snapped in front of my face, breaking my train of thought. Brian stared at me with a worried expression. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t know what was up with me today.

I slumped down on top of the long table in the aisle, which usually held the projector. “You of all people should know not to believe rumors.”

Both his eyebrows rose so high, they disappeared beneath the dark hair that fell across his forehead. “Yeah, everyone was really disappointed when I told them I didn’t know karate when I first transferred here. And that I wasn’t related to Jackie Chan. Still, somebody had to break that stereotype.” Something flashed across his face as he turned his head away. He was suddenly distant and a little cold. “So it really is just a rumor? You and Evan didn’t…”

“No, we didn’t.”

He let out a loud sigh of relief. A quick half smile appeared on his face. He coughed in his hand before shoving it in his back pocket. “I didn’t think so. I mean, he’s not even your type or anything. And you’re way smarter than that. I was just worried…” Brian shook his head and laughed. “Never mind. So what are you going to do about all the rumors, then?”

I kicked at the metal legs of the desk in front of me. “I figured I’d just lie low and stay quiet until they died down.”

Brian snorted. “You? Stay quiet?” He crossed the room to perch beside me on the desk. His arm pressed against mine. “Come on, Taylor. You’re the girl who refused to admit defeat during class elections last year. Even
after
you won, you insisted on another election with everyone’s attendance so no one could accuse you of cheating. Even though nobody did.”

My mouth quirked into a half smile. “Yeah. No one was happy about staying after school to vote, either.”

Brian laughed and knocked his shoulder against mine. “No, we weren’t.”

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, both lost in our own thoughts. Finally, he straightened and stood in front of me, arms crossed as though he were a lecturing parent. “Look, I am just going to say it as it is. Staying quiet is a stupid idea. This isn’t like you! You need to fight back.” He bent forward until he was at eye level with me. “Seriously, show everyone out there who you are and that you deserve everything you’ve worked so hard for. Don’t let this stupid rumor ruin things for you.”

Brian was standing so close that I could see all the details on his face. The perfectly straight line of his nose, the crinkles around his eyes. He even had a small wrinkle over his left brow.

His words scared me, but I tried to laugh it off. “Aren’t you overreacting a bit? I mean, it’s just a tiny rumor, Brian.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Oh yeah? Look at what it did already. I mean, come on, Taylor. Why do you think everyone’s screwing with you out there? They’re using this ‘tiny little rumor’ to yank you off the pedestal so they can stomp on you.”

The images he painted were so vivid that I had to shake my head to get rid of them. Especially after my talk with Mr. Peters. It really did feel like everything was slipping out of my grasp. “So what do you think I should do?”

“Prove that they’re wrong. Beat someone up. I don’t know.
Something
.”

His words hit me like a bolt of lightning. He was right. I was tired of getting picked on. I needed to do something. My future, my life, depended on it.

But the question was, what could I do?

*   *   *

“So what do you think?” I asked Carly on the phone later that night. I balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder as I carefully slipped my report into my bag. There was no way in hell I was going to forget
that
again. “Short of having Evan whacked, I don’t know what could make everyone forget about this.”

“Why would you want people to forget? This is the most exciting thing to happen to you all year. Actually, your whole life.”

“But I don’t
want
my life to be this exciting. Tell me what to do.”

“Well, for one, I think you should have slept with him.”

I almost dropped the phone to the ground. “Can you please be serious?”

“What? I just think it’s a waste that you’re going through all this suffering and you didn’t even get any. Not even once. I mean, come on!” There was the sound of a door slamming, and I knew Carly had shut the door to get some privacy. Ironically, the door always got stuck, so when it slammed, her mom knew she was up to no good. She probably just had about a minute of talking time left before her mom popped in to “check” on her. “Seriously, if you’re not going to sleep with him, then at least date him or something. People wouldn’t care so much if the two of you were dating anyway.”

“You’re impossible.” I rolled my eyes at my reflection in the mirror across the room.

“Impossibly lovable. Hey, I gotta go. I think I hear my mom down the hall. Just think about it. The innocent debutante always reforms the rake in the end, you know.”

Even though she was crazy, Carly’s words kept racing through my mind.
What if…?

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, I headed downstairs toward Dad’s office. I don’t know if it was the dark-green tweed furniture or the dusty shelves full of law books, but this was the only place I could think clearly. This was his domain that he had decorated himself. And by decorated, I mean, he drove to the furniture store, pointed to a couple of pieces, and told them where to ship it within five minutes, tops.

The rest of the house—besides my room, thank god—was decked out in bright, cheery colors and ruffles. It was like Barbie’s Dreamhouse had exploded. And since Dad didn’t care, I was outnumbered when it came to what color the curtains should be. Kimmy was still at the age where she loved pink and sequins. I’d hoped that she’d outgrow the girly stuff in two years when she turned eleven. I did. Of course, I outgrew a lot of things that year.

Even though I hadn’t made any noise when I crept in, it was like Oreo, our dog, sensed there was someone awake who could feed him. Despite the fact that he was a dachshund who got fed three times a day, he was always hungry. Always.

I closed the study door just as his paws came scampering down the hall. His dark nose instantly poked under the door, and he whined. The high-pitched yips sounded like he was being tortured.

Afraid that Mom or Dad would wake up, I jerked the door open. Oreo was sprawled out on the carpet, nose downturned as though he were still trying to get beneath the door. As soon as he saw me, he froze for a few seconds before slowly flopping on his back. His brown eyes stared at me, willing me to bend down and scratch his belly.

I snorted with laughter and rubbed his stomach for a few seconds before getting to my feet. “Come on, you can keep me company while I work.”

Before I got started, I moved around the office and rearranged a few things. Lining up the books on the shelves so they all faced out. Adjusting the shades so the perfect amount of moonlight would stream through the windows. The usual stuff that would otherwise distract me.

I worked through the night. Sunlight was starting to peek through the windows when I finished printing out the final copy of the contract. I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. Finally, it was done. Now was the hard part—getting Evan to cooperate. And for that, I needed his number.

I immediately called Carly. That girl knew anything and everything that went on in that school. Too bad she was also too nosy for her own good. “Have you changed your mind about sleeping with him?”

My cheeks flushed hotly, and I thanked god no one could see me. I tapped my pen against the table so hard that the top flew off and rolled somewhere beneath the desk. “Carly, this really isn’t the time.” I dropped to the floor to search for the top. Capless pens were one of my biggest pet peeves. “Just get me his number, okay?”

“Already ahead of you. I messaged this girl who has it and already texted it to you. So are you going to let me in on this plan or what?”

“Let me figure it out first, and I’ll let you know.” I crossed my fingers. If things went according to plan, everything should be better by tomorrow morning.

“I guess that’s good enough for now. Call me if you need any more hotties’ numbers.”

Mom and Dad had already taken Kimmy to school, so the house was pretty quiet when I crept out of the office. Oreo woke when I was nearly down the hall. He let out a sharp bark and chased after me, nipping at my ankles with every step I took. I dug a can of dog food out of the pantry, scooped a large helping into his bowl, and refilled his water. For myself, I got a large glass of orange juice and made a piece of toast from the bread bin on the counter.

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