Chapter Twelve
Tyler
Between periods, I can’t help the nagging sensation that I’m actually texting Layla Valentine. That alone should make me stop responding to her messages but I can’t. It’s also strange when I reach one of classes I’m bummed I have to slip my phone back into my bag. If it is Layla, I admit her texts definitely brings entertainment to my boring days here at school.
As I head to lunch, my thumbs press the letters on the screen. “Dude, who do you keep talking to?” Austin asks as we make our way to the cafeteria.
“Texting. Not really talking. Why do you care?”
“Whoa. What’s up with the hostility? It was a simple question, bro.”
I shake my head. Austin is cool but he’s a total gossip. “Rachel wants me to sit with her today. Tell the guys,” he says.
I laugh. “Pretty sure they’ll know since her table is two down from ours.”
He flips me off and heads to the lunch line. A hand slaps down on my right shoulder and I look up to see Jared peering over my shoulder. “Still milfing on that cougar?”
“She’s sixteen.” I don’t want to tell him who I actually think I’m texting.
“Did you get a picture confirmation on that?”
“Nah. We’re not doing personals.”
“Your idea or hers?”
I make a face. “Mine. I don’t need another stalker like Penny.” Plus, if this is Layla, God only knows how she’d react if she found out she was texting me.
“Yeah. I forgot about her. Good thinking. But you do know you can find anyone you want on the Internet? You don’t really need her name, just a number.”
I feel my jaw drop. Jared smiles. “Dude, relax. Pretty sure if she hasn’t shown up at your house yet, odds are she doesn’t know or care about where you live. So, whatever happened to Penny, the nightmare?”
“She moved to the West Coast, thank the lord. I didn’t even kiss her. Can you imagine how much worse it would have been if I had?” Just thinking about it gives me the shivers. Penny was what I like to call a jersey-chaser. If you were being scouted by colleges and she caught wind of it, she was on your doorstep.
She brought me homemade cookies every day. I brought the first batch into the locker room with me and some of the guys asked me who the cookies were from. Because cookies in a locker room will bring a crowd. As soon as I said, “From some girl named Penny,” they all backed away and told me to toss them. Quickly.
I thought that was the stupidest thing ever. No one tosses cookies unless there was some illegal substance in them and you had to take a drug test. Which in my case would have sucked since we get random drug screenings. I lifted a chocolate chip cookie to my mouth and this big ass linebacker named Brad Johnson smacked that cookie out of my hand and tossed the rest in the trash.
Then it was like a campfire intervention or some shit. They all told me horror stories about Penny. They warned me never to engage. Never even to wave at her. She’d go away in a few weeks.
But she didn’t go away. Apparently, Penny loved being ignored. She showed up everywhere I was. The mall. The country club. The lake. She even showed up at my family reunion. She told my mom we were dating.
My mom was a few sheets to the wind, and thought Penny was cute. I hopped on my bike and went to Jared’s house. I was lucky he was home.
Later that night, I returned to my room and realized my favorite shirt was missing from my room. Yeah, that crazy chick was in my room. But before things really got out of hand, her dad got a job offer and she had to move. Worst three months of my life.
My phone buzzes in my hand but I ignore it for a second. “So, who did you look up?”
Jared pales. “I plead the fifth.”
“For real? You got her number and searched Juliet up like a creepy stalker? That’s just sad as hell man.”
Jared and I get into the lunch line and he groans. “I don’t have her number. I, uh …”
“Dude, her mom’s from the billboards around town. Just go talk to her.”
He shoves me. “Shut up. You know what I’m going through. I can’t just … never mind.”
I glance down at my phone and read “Faye’s” text.
Faye: My ex made his English paper about me.
Wow, Adam really is such a douche. I don’t type that though.
Me: Awkward.
Faye: Horrible. He basically called us Romeo n Juliet.
Me: Uh wow. They died.
Biggest toolbag ever. I mean writing papers about them, referring to Romeo and Juliet of all things is just bad.
Faye: Yeah. My sis loves that crap. Not me. I don’t want 2 b compared 2 some1 else. Real or not.
Me: I feel ya.
Jared makes a noise and I lift my gaze from my screen. “What?”
“Well, I know you guys aren’t doing personals, but I’m curious why even talk to her?”
“I don’t know. I like talking to her. Why not?”
“Well if it’s not going anywhere, why bother?”
I get what he’s saying because it’s basically true. If I tell “Faye” hey, by the way I’m Tyler Richardson pretty sure she won’t speak to me again. “Who says it has to go somewhere? Maybe I just like talking to her because she doesn’t know who I am. She isn’t talking to me because she needs my dad to give her a letter or recommendation or to see if my sister will use her as model for her next book cover. It’s kind of nice just being no one.”
He shrugs. “Okay. As long as you know what you’re doing. Seems to me you’re getting in pretty deep. That’s all.”
“It’s only been a few days.”
My phone vibrates against my palm. Jared raises a brow as we put pizza and fries on our trays. “Right.”
I roll my eyes.
A football sails through the air and right to Mark. He catches the pass and then our defense snatches him up before he reaches the thirty-yard line. Coach Black blows the whistle and yells at us to come in.
As I run toward the huge group of guys forming a large circle, out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of a girl being tossed into the air. She twists and then comes crashing down into a body of girls positioned underneath of her. Off to my left, I see Adam take off his helmet and stare at the cheerleaders too.
“Richardson! Kent! Do you two want to join the cheer squad, or are you a part of this team?”
“This team,” I say.
Adam mumbles, “This team.”
“Good! You can talk to them later. We’ve got a game to prepare for and unless one of those girls has a secret play to distract the whole defensive line so you can run into the end zone each time, I suggest your attention be on me and not them!”
Jared lightly shakes his head. He knows me too well and it stops me from responding with, “Well, now that you mention it, Coach, how about we get the girls to flash their fine assets. I’m pretty sure the whole stadium will be distracted and we could easily walk right into the end zone each time.” But Jared’s dad would blow a gasket and probably kick my ass. And just as I start to set my focus on Coach, I notice Jared straighten.
I want to glance over my shoulder to see what has him looking all serious. Then I see Mark, who’s standing next to him, beam and wave. I give them both a look but a hand comes down on Mark’s helmet and he instantly drops his smile. “Uh sorry, Coach,” he mumbles.
“You guys aren’t focused. Give me four laps around the field. Helmets on,” he yells at all of us.
Some of the players mutter curses. Some say, “Yes, sir.” As for me, I sigh and set off running.