Page 12 of That Boy (That Boy 1)
For once?
A challenge, huh?
Shit.
"I want a double cheeseburger, fries, a chocolate shake, AND maybe even a hot fudge sundae. Deal?"
"Pig," he replies, but shakes his head in agreement.
"Fine, I'll be there in a minute."
I lay my head back down and try to revive my daydream. Unfortunately it's long gone.
I look at my back. No change yet, but I guess Danny's right. I can play with my suit on.
Play and fill in the tan lines at the same time.
I am so efficient!
So I get up from my comfy spot, walk over to the picnic table, hook my finger thru a belt loop on my favorite cutoffs, pull them off the table, and drag them behind me. I walk over to my fence and fling open the gate. Danny and Phillip are tossing the ball casually to each other in the empty lot next door. The lot has a luscious carpet of grass that Phillip and Danny work hard to keep immaculate, just for this purpose.
I start to walk toward them and then thinking, stop and yell, "Shoes or no shoes?" You have to decide this in the beginning because if you don't have shoes and the other guy does, it can be a very painful day for your toes. If the boys are feeling very serious about their practice, it's shoes.
Most often though, it's no shoes.
I keep standing there, holding my shorts, waiting for an answer.
"Hello?" I say, waving my shorts in their direction.
But the boys are both just standing there staring at me, their mouths agape.
Shit, is one of my boobs hanging out or something? I take a quick look down at myself. No, everything appears to be in order.
What? It's like they can see me, but they can't hear me.
"Shoes?" I yell again, maybe they didn't hear me.
"Uh," says Phillip, looking down at his own feet, like he can't remember if he has them on. "Um, no shoes."
Phillip gives Danny a sideways glance, and Danny smiles back at him.
What's up with those two? I probably missed some stupid boy joke.
Whatever.
I jog over to them in my bare feet, pull on my shorts and zip them up. "Okay, I'm ready."
"Uh, new swimsuit, Jay?" Danny asks, with his eyebrows raised at me, half a smirk on his face.
"Yeah. Do you like it? I got it for the Summer Bash next week."
Danny doesn't answer my question, but asks one of his own. "Your dad seen it yet?"
"Well, no, but he's not going to the party. So do you guys like it? Does it look okay?" I stare at Phillip. "Phillip?"
Phillip is still looking at me sort of shocked. What's the deal? Does it look bad?
Phillip starts to open his mouth to say something. At first nothing comes out, but then he says, "I think I like that pink one you have better."
Jerk!
The pink one he is referring to is practically a granny style one-piece. I give that boy a mad face.
Danny looks at Phillip and shakes his head at him. Then he winks at me and says, "Go long, right, Jay."
I do, and we play catch for about 30 minutes, running various plays and routes. It's usually fun and a good workout for me.
But the whole time we're playing, Phillip's bikini comment is festering in my brain. I brilliantly intercept a pass, and I nearly scream out loud, HAHAHAHA, Phillip, you jerk! But I withheld my comments and gave him a smirky grin instead.
Which apparently didn't bother him in the least because he shrugs his shoulders at me, his body saying, No big deal.
And that really pisses me off.
So on the next play, as we're running side by side down the field, I carefully stick my foot out with the intention of accidentally tripping him.
Only it doesn't quite work as I imagined because my leg gets tangled up with his, and we both go down.
BOOM.
I land on my side with a THUD and literally bounce off the grass.
And it must've knocked the wind out of me because I can't seem to breathe.
I try to take a breath, but before I can, Phillip rolls me over on my back, pins my arms above my head, and sits on me.
At first, I think he's going to tickle me or something, but then my oxygen deficient brain registers his brown eyes flashing black.
Uh, oh. I don't think he's very happy with me.
I painfully suck in a breath of air, just as he leans down close to my face. Warm, minty breath blows on me when he yells, "YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!"
"What are you talking about?" I ask, ever so innocently.
Who? ME?
"You're being a shit! I don't know what your problem is, but I won't let you hurt us both. I'll be damned if I'll miss senior year football with a broken leg because you can't play nice."
"Poor little Phillip. Can't play with the big girls?"
"I play fine with girls," Phillip answers, with a smirk of his own.
A little too fine lately, if you ask me.
He may be getting too cute and confident for his own good.
He pushes my hands into the ground, "I'm serious. No more cheap shots."
"You can't tell me what to do, Phillip."
"Maybe not, but I'll tell your dad you've been a poor sport."
Shit. He's got me on that.
"Fine. Get off me."
Phillip stays where he is and says in his calmer, sweeter voice. "What are you so pissed about anyway? Are you mad at Danny?"
Is he serious? I mean is he really that clueless? How could he possibly not know what has me so upset? And really, why do I care what he thinks anyway? He's just a big, fat dork who dates clueless girls. Girls who wouldn't know a tight spiral pass if it hit them in the uh, well, you know.
"Hey! You guys gonna get a room, or do you wanna play some football?" Danny yells from across the yard.
Danny. Wow. I had almost forgotten he was here.
But I'm glad because his comment jerks me out of my feeling-sorry-for-myself mood, and my cockiness comes rushing back. I raise an eyebrow at Phillip and then let my eyes wander down the length of his body.
I mean, he is on top of me.
He gives me the evil eye, gets up, and throws the ball back to Danny. "I've had enough," he says.
I hop up and follow Phillip to where Danny's standing.
All of a sudden my legs feel itchy.
Crap.
A bunch of loose grass clippings have stuck to the oil on my legs. Not particularly attractive, I think, as I try to brush them off.
Danny, trying to ease the unusual tension between Phillip and me, laughs and points at me. He calls me the Grass Monster or something equally juvenile and stupid.
Phillip finally laughs too and then says, "I'm starving!"
"Yeah, me too. Let's go," Danny agrees. He bends down, grabs his T-shirt off the grass, and slides his feet into a pair of flip-flops.
"I've gotta run home and grab a shirt and some shoes," Phillip tells us.
I start to head to my house to grab a shirt too.
Danny responds to Phillip by saying, "Jay's driving that hot new Mustang of hers." Then he runs up behind me, snaps me on the butt with his T-shirt, and follows me home.
"What was that all about?"
"Oh, he was just pissed because he thought I tripped him on purpose."
Danny looks at me like a human lie detector, "Did you?"
I chuckle. "Maybe..."
I shove my shoulder into his and say, "So, I know what Phillip thinks of the bikini, but you never gave me a straight answer. So do you like it? Come on Danny, I value your opinion, and I really don't want to wear it to the party if it looks stupid on me."
Danny thinks for a moment, like he's not sure what to say.
I mean, come on!
Any other girl in a bikini and Danny would be giving me much more information about the bikini than I would ever want to know. You'd think he'd at least be able to answer one simple question about my bikini.
Finally, Danny turns to me and says blandly, rolling his eyes, "Jake
will love it."
YAY!
"But you better just have water at the Shack, or you might outgrow it before the party."
I flash angry eyes at him, but I can tell by his smirk that he's just teasing me.
