Page 52 of The Boyfriend Boycott
The girls wander off, giddy and shrieking that they just met Spencer Sinclair.
“Come on.” I get up and place a hand on Spencer’s arm. “Let’s wander around. I’m tired of sitting here.”
“Someone needs to man the booth.” She points toward my pathetic-looking booth. The table is bare, no cool freebies or swag to attract the teens. Now that the girls have left, there’s no one interested in our booth at all.
“Ah, kids don’t care about working at the bar. I’m here for the scholarship presentation and that’s about it,” I say. “Which, by the way, I’m shitting my pants about, so thank you so much for signing me up for this.”
“You’ll do great. You killed it at the party the other night, and now you’ll have even more practice for the council meeting.” Right. The council meeting, and the speech that I absolutely cannot fuck up. Spencer gives me a reassuring pat on my shoulder and her touch sends a zing of electricity down my spine.
“Are there any surprises in this one that I should be aware of?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?” She winks at me, and I roll my eyes back at her.
Spencer follows me to take a lap around the gym, saying hello to everyone who came out today. I want to show her what the community of Heartwood is like: friendly, welcoming. Although I think she already knows. A few people wave from their booths as we walk past. Spencer is close beside me. Close enough that I could reach down and grab her hand, but I don’t. The comfort of her arm brushing against mine as we walk is enough right now.
Eleanor waves us over to the Town of Heartwood booth and greets me with a warm smile before pulling Spencer into a hug.
“I didn’t know the town was hiring,” I say, noting the stack of application forms on the table in front of her.
“We weren’t. But after Spencer’s presentation the other night, I figured we could use some young blood at the tourism board. Fresh eyes.”
“There was a group of girls over there that might be interested. They wanted to know all about what I do,” Spencer offers.
“Oh, honey, I think they were just interested in you,” Eleanor says, pointing out the obvious.
“I’m really not that interesting.”
“I think they would beg to differ.” Eleanor cocks her head to the side. Her expression changes when she sees someone approaching us from behind. “I thinkhewould also disagree.”
I don’t even have to look to know who is walking up from behind us. His cologne gives him away from a mile off.
“Nobody at your booth, I see.” Carter sneers. “I guess they like the idea of working somewhere a little more upscale.” He gestures towards the table he’s set up a few down from Eleanor’s. There are a handful of teens surrounding it, and I wonder if he’s slipped them some money just to stand there looking interested.
“It’s not exactly fair to offer jobs that don’t exist yet,” I retort. “If they ever do.”
“My chances are better than they were a few weeks ago. Better read over that law again if you want to be up to speed at the council meeting. All it says is that the business owner needs to be local to Heartwood.”
“It also says it can’t be part of a chain. Besides, you haven’t lived here in years.”
“I grew up here. I have a permanent address here. Gotta go after what you want, right?” He makes a point of glancing at Spencer. “Any more thoughts on when we can schedule that date you promised me?”
“I never promised anything.” Her tone is flat but not assertive. Not enough to close that door and lock it, throw awaythe key. It makes my vision blur with rage. She still hasn’t agreed to an official date with him, but all I want is for her to shut him down in a monumental display. A very public one. I want him to walk away with his tail between his legs. Actually, doing it in Heartwood High, the place where Carter reigned as King Asshole for so long, would be kind of poetic.
“A rain check is as good as a promise, Red.”
“A rain check is a rain check,” Spencer answers. Carter inches closer to her, and I can’t fucking stand here any longer and watch this. I just want to get Spencer far away from him. Maybe I didn’t have any right to be jealous about Carter asking Spencer out the first time, but I sure as hell have a right to be pissed now. There’s only one thing I know for certain now: Spencer is mine. She’s been mine since she set foot in this town a year and a half ago. She might not realize it yet, but she and I are only a matter of time.
I grab Spencer’s hand and turn on my heel, dragging her away from Carter, away from the career fair. I don’t know where I’m going but it doesn’t matter. I just need her all to myself.
The noise spilling out of the gymnasium becomes fuzzy and distant as the doors close behind us. The lobby is empty save for a couple of kids making out against some lockers down the adjacent hall. They scurry away when we burst through the doors.
Spencer yanks her hand out of mine the moment we’re alone. I suddenly don’t know what to do with my hands anymore. They had just found their one purpose in life, holding Spencer’s. So, I shove them in my pockets to keep myself from reaching for her.
“What was that?” Spencer almost shouts, shocked. Her arms cross over her chest as she waits for my reply. I reach a hand up to rub the back of my neck, trying to formulate an answer that doesn’t come across as possessive.
“I don’t know, Spencer,” I say, my chest heaving. “I had to get out of there.” Spencer’s shoulders loosen, accepting my answer, and she wanders over to the display case against the wall, perusing the photos and trophies inside. My breathing is still ragged, my anger reducing to a low simmer.
“Is this you?” she asks, pointing at the team photo from my championship year. She’s trying to change the subject, to distract me, to settle my lingering rage, and it’s working.
