Whenever-kobo (3 page)

Rhys tapped his fingers and reached for my glass of water. I smacked his hand, so he diluted the liquid with his own sparkling water instead and the puff grew. I hoped he had control of this thing.

Austin tilted his chair back on two legs and stared at us with his icy cold blue eyes. “Y’all aren’t going to let these guys come in our house and show us up, are you?”

“Nope.” I looked away because his gearing me up for the game was jacking with my nerves.

Crap. Zoe. She walked down the aisle on the arm of my ex-boyfriend Tanner. They must have been in the back, because the principal wasn’t letting anyone else in at this point. Tanner and Zoe snagged the empty seats Bliss held with Austin’s letter jacket.

Zoe herself wore Tanner’s letter jacket over her cheer uniform. He’d never given the jacket to me when we were dating, but Zoe had been wearing it since the first dance. I’d gone with Tanner and pushed for a picture under the balloon arch. Tanner had put me off. He’d said, “The line is too long. We’ll go later.” When Zoe arrived, he’d laid it out. I was too busy with family stuff and my own hobbies to be serious about him. By the time the first slow dance ended, Tanner was posing under the balloon arch with Zoe, and she’d worn his letter jacket from that day forward.

I hated the thought of Tanner besting me, and I planned to top him. When Homecoming came around, I’d pose under the balloon arch with my new boyfriend. I’d created a short wish list for my new man: loyal, and higher on the food chain than the male equivalent of Zoe. Much higher. I hadn’t gotten far in my search, but I had two prime specimens at the THS table with me. They could give me some advice.

Rhys’s relationships didn’t last long, as bad boys and commitment didn’t mesh, but he had a numbers advantage over Austin and me so he probably had some tips. I nodded at the Trallwyn Prep table. “What do you think of him for a date? I need a new guy.”

“Prince Callum?” Rhys shrugged, more interested in his chemicals than my search for a new boyfriend. “Prince is really an honorary title. It’s not like he gets to rule the country.”

“Like she could get that,” Austin said.

“I could.”

Austin glanced from me to Prince Callum and shook his head.

“I
am
number one in our class.”

Austin’s lips pinched together. “Not for long, and that’s not going to get you more dates anyway. Maybe it will for me when I’m valedictorian, because I’m a guy, but not you. You’re pretty and all, but I wouldn’t give you odds on snaring a prince.”

Jerk. Maybe I
had
meant the prince, but Austin didn’t need to know that. “Princes don’t date Americans. I meant Christian Wentworth, the politician’s son.”

“Christian?” Austin sniffed. “Politicians always make the headlines for doing someone dirty. Bet their kids are no better.”

Why was I even asking these two? Life by committee never worked.
Choose your own path and make it happen.
I’d read that in a chocolate-dipped fortune cookie and tried to embrace it. The motto had helped academically, not so much for my love life.

I glanced down at Zoe. She had her hand on Tanner’s knee.
Enjoy, because I’m bringing Christian Wentworth from Trallwyn Prep to Homecoming.
I leaned forward on my palms and checked him out. Christian was focused on the audience. Prince Callum concentrated on me. He had an intent, unwavering stare. Americans didn’t stare that way. It was rude. I tried to tell him that with my eyes before examining the crowd again.

Tanner leaned down and kissed Zoe’s glossed lips. When he lifted up, she wiped the smudge off. He tilted back and gazed at me with an arched brow and tilted chin. I breathed in deep and flattened my hands against the table so I wouldn’t flip him off. That wouldn’t score well with the judges.

“Don’t let them get in your head,” Austin said. “I’ll talk to Bliss and get them to trade with some of the girls in the back.” He crooked his finger at his girlfriend. “Man, we’ve brought a crowd today.”

Bliss rose but when she reached the steps, Prince Callum’s bodyguard stopped her. He tapped his earpiece and shook his head. Bliss held up Austin’s letter jacket and pointed at our table. The bodyguard raised five fingers, silently telling her she had five minutes. When she reached our table, she dropped Austin’s letter jacket in front of him. She wore a frown and narrowed her eyes.

Anger. I scooted toward Rhys, my chair scraping on the stage in my haste. Rhys placed a protective arm around his chemistry set. He knew how to spot a mad woman too.

Bliss said to Austin, “We’re through and, uh…” Her gaze pierced the crowd. “Good luck with this.”

What a power move. Break up with your boyfriend before his big competition. Shatter his confidence.

Austin’s light blue eyes blinked and then widened enough so that I saw the weird pale blue hue of his irises, so pale they almost appeared white near the pupils. His mouth dropped open.

Dude. Clueless.

“Ouch,” Rhys said.

Bliss strutted over to the far end of our competitors’ table and kissed the senator’s son, Christian, right on the lips.

Oh.

Christian gave her a tight shake of his head. Clearly, he didn’t enjoy drama. Bliss did. She pouted and then fixated on Prince Callum. Her lips curved up, and she dug a marker and a piece of paper from her pocket. She held them out.

Prince Callum sighed and reached for them with a slow gesture. Before his fingers touched the writing utensil, his bodyguard rushed up the steps and escorted Bliss down to her seat. “No autographs until after.”

“Austin’s ex is making moves on your future boyfriend pool,” Rhys said.

“I know, right.”

Austin didn’t respond to our commentary, but he unclenched his fists long enough to throw his letter jacket over the back of his chair. The multitude of patches on the sleeve reminded me of school pride and how much rested on our kicking Trallwyn Prep’s privileged butts. The stakes had just increased.

Our principal got past the bodyguard next and made his way over to us. His arrival indicated it must be nearing three, almost time to start. He squatted before our table. His wooden cane thumped in front of me and he lowered his voice. “Autographs and photo opportunities are limited to thirty minutes at the end. So no one should be hounding the prince right now.” His brown eyes bored into me.

“Okay.”

The principal jerked his thumb at the crowd. “If other girls try to sneak up here, I want you to send them back.”

“Prince Callum has his own security. He doesn’t need me to babysit.”

“They rush the stage and we end up in the papers like some mall that couldn’t control security for a boy band. You’re one of those girls; you know what to say to them.” His face twisted and he looked from the judges to members of the press who’d staked out a spot in the front. “You’ve rehearsed for this, right? Taken Austin’s advice?”

“Hayley’s at the top of our class,” Austin said, throwing my own words out in a gesture of confidence.

The principal rubbed his chin, and his eyes snapped. “I know that. But I also know there’s a speech element. You’d all better be at your best to cover for her.”

Maybe I’d had some trouble with speeches in the past: stumbling on the way to the lectern, going off on tangents, vomiting. Not this time. “I’m ready for the speech, and I studied up on Irish trivia for the Q&A portion.”

Austin mimed catching a ball. “Me too. You know they’ll throw the prince some slow pitches. I’m ready to intercept.”

Rhys didn’t answer. He stared at the principal and said nothing.

The principal straightened his tie and pushed up. “Okay.” He glanced at the other table. “Did you know that the prince and his cousin are dining with the senator’s family tonight? Two members of the royal family.” He paused and the pull of his lips showed all his teeth as he whispered back down to us, “You’d better be gracious if you lose.” With that encouragement, he walked toward the Trallwyn Prep table. Luckily, the crowd’s high-pitched chatter was loud enough that they probably couldn’t hear his lack of confidence. I double-checked that our microphone was switched to
off
. The speakers made a high-pitched reverberation, and I clicked it again.

Austin smacked my hand.

“I was just checking.”

Austin turned so his back was to the Trallwyn Prep table and his chair thumped on the floor. He included Rhys in his gaze. “Y’all better not suck.”

I squirmed and eyed his letter jacket. It was cold in here, with the chilled water, and our table positioned right near the vents. Was it too soon to ask to borrow his jacket? I noted the tight set of his even lips. Probably.

Winning this decathlon would ensure that I’d be wearing my own letter jacket this winter. With two event points, I’d bring my total to sixteen. I lowered my voice and flipped my flash drive between my fingers. “You’ll love my speech this time. I promise. It’s on football.”

Austin’s pale face stilled, and his blond eyebrows rose. He seemed shocked, even more so than during his public breakup five minutes ago.

I made a fist around the storage drive, added my second fist to the table, and leaned into them to make my point. “It’s a great speech. I highlight the differences between our Trallwyn High Dragons and the Trallwyn Prep Knights. In a town crazy about football, I’ll have the audience cheering. They’ll queue up to watch my speech on YouTube, write poems about me, and give a scholarship in my name to brilliant speakers and mathematicians across the globe. I’ll win this for all the Trallwyn Highs going up against the fancy rich Goliaths in their own towns. Football rules.”

Rhys turned from his chemistry set and gaped at me too.

I let my glee fly. “I make a big prediction about the scores for each quarter and then the final score.” I made a swiveling dance move and held my arms out over the table, stirring it up. Their appalled expressions made me drop my arms. My enthusiasm dwindled. “Simple math.”

Austin ran a hand over his buzz cut and opened his palms. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m playing to the town. All successful speakers target their audience.” Where was his encouragement? Cold wind blew up at me from the vented stage, chilling my skin, making me want the letter jacket even more. I rubbed my forearms and let an edge of my exasperation peep through. “What?”

Austin glanced at the Trallwyn Prep table and lowered his voice. “Four of Prep’s key players were in a crash on Main Street last night. Seriously injured. They’re out for the season.”

In a rushing sensation, the blood drained from my face and my ears hummed. I let go of the flash drive, and the plastic rectangle fell to the table.

Think.

I touched the tip of the small storage device with one sweaty finger. “It’ll be like an homage. I’ll leave off the predictions.”

Austin shook his head. “Too soon. Do something else.”

“Something else?” My gaze flew to the three judges. Even from here, I could tell they had antagonistic personality disorder, anger issues, and borderline psychopathic serial killer traits. “I can’t do something else. Speeches have to be practiced, researched.” I’d given my speech four times to my parents before I stopped blanking in the middle. My little brothers heard it six times. They’d played army men the whole time, but I thought they dug the sports references.

Eyebrows arched, Austin held his palms up and open. “Why didn’t you tell me your speech was on football? I could have called you this morning.”

I didn’t tell him because he’d have swamped me with information or stolen my kick ass idea. “It could still work.”

Rhys drummed his fingers, and his gaze went to the exit. “You can’t give that speech.”

“No,” Austin agreed. “She can’t.”

The principal stepped behind the lectern and tapped on the microphone. Mechanical thumps echoed in response, and each one worked like a defibrillator on my heart.

“Welcome.” He raised the volume. “Welcome, honored guests. Please take your seats. For those students standing in the back, please don’t block the aisles.” He went on to explain that the prince would be extending the time allotted for autographs from thirty minutes to three hours to accommodate the crowd.

Two girls yelled in a simultaneous shriek, “Prince Callum, we love you.”

The audience laughed, and Prince Callum winced. His bodyguard moved to the center of the aisle as if the girls were going to make a run for the stage. It was a wise move. I hadn’t seen this much aggression since tax-free weekend in August when there had been a run on the back-to-school section.

“Settle down now,” the principal said. “There are plenty of people waiting in the courtyard if you can’t keep your enthusiasm under control.”

Were my parents stuck outside in the courtyard? I scanned the faces in the audience again. Where were they? There were Austin’s parents. Right there in the front. Both worked as professors at Darmire University; and they always came to these events with their leather messenger bags strapped over their shoulders. Austin’s dad had his head in a book, but his mom smiled at me as if she knew I was thinking about her.

Both of Austin’s parents had that indoors anemic academia look. Austin was pale too but more fit and sporty-looking. He must have gotten his coloring from his mom’s family. She had lighter brown hair and his dad had dark wavy hair. The normalcy of seeing them in their usual spot calmed me for a moment and then I resumed searching.

I inched my chair back and eased upwards. How could my parents not be here? As bad as fast food was, it was fast. Surely they’d gotten in before security cut the crowd off. The glow of fluorescent lights on a large camera caught my attention. Cell phones had been going off since we got here, but these flashes meant the professionals had started filming. They had their big wide-angled lenses pointed this way. We’d end up on the evening news: Prince Callum, the well-dressed crowd, and me with my suck-tastic, non-existent speech. All of us would share the airwaves for an eternity. My insides tightened. “Oh God.”

“You could run,” Rhys said.

“That’s not the worst idea.”

Austin circled my arm with tight fingers and squeezed.