Page 1 of Game Plan
1
BECCA
"Areyou really going to do this?" Grace Lee, my best friend since high school, held a tube of bright red lipstick in her hand. "I mean, wasn't it you who said if you saw Conrad Florence again, you'd knee him in the cock?"
I took the lipstick and pouted at my reflection in the mirror. The last time I saw Conrad 'Hawk' Florence, I was a handful of kilos heavier, with a face full of freckles and the confidence of a shy high school geek.
Which I was.
Not anymore.
I applied a layer of lipstick, then dabbed off the excess. I set the tube down on the dresser and smoothed the sides of my form-fitting red dress. I tugged the hem a little lower to show more cleavage. The freckles, which hadn't faded, were expertly hidden under a layer of expensive makeup. With Grace's help, of course. I usually made do with a swipe of lipgloss and a dab of mascara.
Today, though, I meant business.
"Do what?" I said innocently.
I sighed at my reflection. Ihadsaid that, but that was seven years ago. Back then, I had the biggest crush on him. Most ofthe girls at school did. He was tall, handsome and voted most likely to play in the AGL or the NFL. When Mr. Leggit, our senior English teacher, asked me to tutor him, I found out Conrad had a brain as well.
Who knew?
We got close during those afternoons on his parents’ couch. No, not likethat. We bonded over our mutual love ofStar Warsand poetry. I was as surprised as anyone that the biggest jock in school liked a good rhyme. We became friends. At least, I thought we did. I even thought he'd ask me to the graduation formal.
Me, the biggest geek in school.
Funny, right? It gets worse.
When he didn't ask, I worked up the nerve to askhim. That feat alone took weeks, and Grace held my hand the whole way.
When I finally got up the guts, he didn't say yes. Oh no, it was far more awful than that. He laughed.
Laughed.
In. My. Face.
I ran out of his parents’ house and never went back. I didn't go to the formal either. I couldn't bear to see him, much less on the arm of Heather Wells, the leader of the school's marching band. At least he didn't go along with the stereotype of dating the head cheerleader.
On the other hand, our head cheerleader was Tad Humphries, and I don't think Conrad swung that way.
Still, Heather Wells with her perfect hair, beautiful skin and flawless body were bad enough.
I couldn't compete with girls like her, not back then. Now?
I glanced in the mirror. Golden blonde hair and an hourglass figure that filled my dress to perfection. Add to that the shade of red lipstick that looked perfect when smeared on a cock, and I was deadly.
"Youknowwhat." Grace crossed her arms. "You want him to see what he could have had."
I tried to deny it but the only sound which came out of my mouth was a squeak of indignation.
"I've changed a bit since high school," I said.
That was an understatement. I changed a lot. I even worked out so I didn't have to live on salad.
I cocked my head at myself in the mirror and wondered how much I'd have to work out to live on ice cream.
"Okay, fine," I admitted. "I want him to regret laughing at me. I want him to drool, and remember the fun times we had."
"He's probably changed a bit too," Grace pointed out.
