Page 42 of Shutout
I’m going to murder him when we’re alone.
“What was all that about?” Emily leans forward. “He knows what you want? Whew, that sounded charged.”
“It’s nothing,” I mumble.
“Hmm,nothingdoesn’t look like a blush like that.” Alyssa folds her arms and leans over the table to speak closer. “What’s the deal between you and Brooklyn?”
And, here it is. What eventually happens every single time other girls are around us.The inquisition.
Sighing, I say in a deadpan voice, “Nothing. Brooke and I are just childhood friends.”
“Brooke?” Emily leans her chin on her hand in a tell-me-more move.
“Just?” Alyssa instead latches onto this word. “Do you wish you were more?”
“No.” I’m so practiced in this lie, it sounds natural. “You’re free to put your hat in the ring.”
Alyssa lifts both hands up. “Whoa, don’t get me wrong. I have the super hots for him, but I’m not going to step on another girl’s toes to get me there.”
“That’s right.” Emily nods. “That wouldn’t be cool. And even though you say there’s nothing between you guys, I beg to disagree. The tension between you is makingmesweat, and I already have a boyfriend.” She giggles.
Under the table, I rub my own sweaty palms up and down my jeans. “I assure you, there’s nothing going on.”
“Okay, so if there’s nothing going on, can you give me some advice?” Alyssa’s smirk could mean one of two things. The first, she doesn’t believe me and is just testing me to makeme admit I also have the super hots for Brooke—not gonna happen. Or two, she legit wants me to help her get his attention.
That’s the other type of conversation I’ve had to endure for years. If the inquisition goes well because the other girls are decent, they inevitably ask for help.
“I don’t know,” I say, truthfully. “He seems to gravitate to hot girls, so you’re good.”
“Why, thanks for the compliment.” Her mirth intensifies. “But ever stopped to think that you’re hot yourself?”
I cringe so hard, it narrows my eyes into slits. “No, trust me. I’m not his type. Can we please drop this conversation?”
“Okay, fine,” Alyssa says a bit too innocently.
I push my chair back and mumble that I’m also going to the restroom. Hopefully, if I wash my face there will be no visible trace left that inside I feel like I’m dying.
But right as I round the bookshelf behind the table, a hand sneaks out and grabs my arm. I look up at the owner. Brooke has a finger against his lips while he drags me across the corridor, until we’re several shelves away from our group mates.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
He stops before me, folding his arms. “What was that?”
I notice that he’s not carrying any of the requested beverages, which means he didn’t go far in the first place.
I swallow hard but it does nothing to slow down the rapid pace of my heartbeat. But I didn’t say anything weird, so what gives? Lifting my chin, I ask, “What was what?”
Brooke jerks his head in the general direction of our table. “I was just about to leave when I heard that little conversation.”
I stuff my freezing hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Why are you saying it like it was my fault?”
“That’s not what I mean.” His eyebrows pinch a little. “Why didn’t you just shut them down? You usually don’t take any shit.”
“Because—” I sigh so hard that I end up blowing a raspberry. “Even if I tried to cut them off, they eventually find me in some corner and interrogate me. It’s what always happens when there are girls around you and I’m in the way.”
“What?”
“You didn’t know?” I lift my eyebrows.
