Page 49 of Foolish Games

“Then you better start telling,” says Billy. “’Cause we all know you ain’t no gentleman.”

The others hoot with laughter, but I’m burning with rage. “Tell them we’re not sleeping together,” I grit out.

“They’ll believe what they want to believe,” he protests through his laughter. “I can’t help it. My reputation precedes me. Don’t let it bother you, Princess.”

I throw my elbow back, catching him in the ribs. “Tell them.”

“If it bothers you, you tell ‘em.”

I don’t even know why it bothers me so much. Normally, I don’t really care what they think of me. He and his friends have been giving us shit for years, and it’s never mattered to me. Chaz is the one who would get all worked up about it, while I shrugged it off because I knew their opinions of me didn’t affect me.

But if I’m dating Sebastian, then I care what his friends think of me. I want them to see me as good enough for him, to believe that I can be one of them.

I stop myself right there.

I’m not dating Sebastian. His friends’ opinions still don’t affect me. So why do I suddenly care so much if they think I’m worthy of him?

fifteen

#1 at the Box Office: Flubber

Vivienne Delacroix

“Did you bring the Corvette?” Sebastian asks, throwing an arm around me as we leave the game together. Like a dutiful girlfriend, I showed up to watch him play in temperatures that have been hovering in the twenties since December came in hard a few days ago. At least this week doesn’t include rain. I cheered for him louder than anyone and even let Lola paint a number seven on each cheek in support. Faulkner High won in overtime and is headed to the playoffs, and everyone’s happy as they rush for their cars to get to the afterparties, or linger in the parking lot, making plans to hang out longer.

“I did,” I say, smiling up at him. The collective high of the crowd was infectious, and I’m not ready for the night to end, either. The only thing better than the elation I’m feeling right now is driving fast on an open road. “Want to take my car?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” he says.

“Where to?” I ask, unlocking the doors.

“Let’s go to the quarry.”

“Really?” I ask, sliding in behind the wheel and turning on the engine so I can crank the heat. “Rob said the party was at Howie Beckett’s.”

I don’t know the Becketts that well, since their son graduated before I started high school, but they’re a founding family. I’ve been there for boring family events, and apparently Howie throws college parties and allows high school kids in. Even though he’s older, I’m still expected to dance with him at the Founders Ball and know enough about him to make polite conversation with his parents, as I am with the oldest Darling sons.

“Rob sent you home last time I took you to a quarry party,” Sebastian reminds me. “You didn’t get to see how people on my side of the tracks do it. I figured we’d fix that tonight.”

“Okay,” I say, glancing at him and nervously wetting my lips. Even if Sebastian runs his dirty mouth and makes everyone at school think we’re sleeping together, I’ve basically been in control of how things have worked between us up until this point. Sure, he’s the popular one while I’m a nerd, but we’re in public at school. The football team may run the social scene, but they still more or less obey the rules so they don’t get expelled or kicked off the team.

I don’t know what happens on his side of town. It’s like the wild west, and my brother won’t be there to stop things if they get out of hand. Even at the usual post-game parties, Rob watches over me and makes me ride home with him.

“What are you waiting for, Princess?” Sebastian asks. “Let me feel this baby purr again.”

“Okay,” I say again. “But no touching the driver this time.”

“Aww, you ruin all the fun,” he says. “But I’ll do my best to resist fingering you on the way. No promises once we get there.”

He gives me a devilish grin and puts his hands to the vents for warmth.

I shift into gear, shaking my head at him.

“What?” he asks. “I’m dying of blue balls here. Maybe on the way home, I can drive, and you can give me a little road head.”

“You think I’m letting you behind the wheel of my baby?”

“I notice you didn’t shoot down the idea of road head.”

---