“Tryouts.”

  I did the raised-eyebrows-head-shake thing that typically said “huh.”

  “Tryouts are held at the school,” I pointed out.

  Luke pushed a clump of shower-damp hair from his eyes. “I know. I figured you’d need a ride.”

  “No thanks. I need to get a run in.”

  “Nah. Maybe I’ll let you run tonight.” He was already walking toward the truck. “Hurry up. I don’t want to end up doing late-laps.”

  If I’d learned anything about Luke Parker in the two days I’d known him, it was that once he started something, you might as well get on board or get out of the way. And honestly, no matter how much I needed that mind-cleansing run, there was no way I was going to explain that to him.

  I stuffed a Nalgene and hat in my backpack and shut the door behind me. As I skipped down the stairs, Luke pushed off from where he’d been leaning against the truck, foot propped behind him on the old fender. He circled around the back and opened the door for me.

  I must have stopped to stare, because he blushed and shrugged. “My mom’s always saying manners outweigh most other forms of self-expression. And it’s just nice.”

  As I brushed by, the embarrassed warmth coming off him combated the morning chill. It made me smile even as I fought down my early-morning-grouch partnered with the what-the-heck-is-he-doing-here grumbles.

  “I thought the last time was because of the rain.”

  At the end of the drive, he eased the truck onto the paved road and crossed the bridge into town. I kept waiting for him to talk, to break the silence, but he seemed content to just drive. The only other person I spent time with in cars was Rachel. She didn’t understand the concept of silence. Oh, and maybe my dad, but that had been a while. Like a lifetime. Dad and chitchat? Not so much.

  Luke pulled under a tree at the far side of the parking lot. I could totally respect the whole grabbing-shade thing, but the idea of walking that hot, paved runway with everyone noting our arrival had me feeling a little… conspicuous. Hopefully my well-honed invisibility would hold out. I waited for him to turn the truck off, trying to be polite after he’d gone out of his way to pick me up. He tugged the key from the ignition. Instead of pocketing it, he reached past the stick shift and over my knee to pop the glove compartment and tossed the key in. Turning his head, he met my gaze and let that lazy grin spread before pushing the little door shut. “Ready?”

  I nodded, trying not to notice the way he kind of eased into his movements. In that fluid, measured way, he pulled back and jumped out of the truck.

  Guys were already gathered at the school door waiting for Coach to unlock the gym entrance. Before we cleared the lot, Chris pulled up and parked near the walkway.

  My heart skipped a little beat as he slid out of his car.

  “Yo!”

  Before I could make my way toward him, Luke was already shouting back, “Are you talking to us?”

  Chris snorted and shook his head. “Only half of you, and not your half.”

  I tried not to grin at Chris shouting for me in front of the whole team. I gave Luke a quick, apologetic smile.

  “Thanks for the ride. You didn’t need to do that,” I called over my shoulder as I hurried toward where Chris reclined against his old Acura.

  From behind me, I heard something that sounded suspiciously like, “Someone had to.”

  I sidled up beside Chris, wanting to lean against the car next to him. Wanting to lean against him.

  “Hey, babe.” The whole world stopped as he flashed me a smile that rivaled a tooth whitening commercial. “What are you doing with that guy?”

  “He picked me up since he knew I didn’t have a ride.”

  “Then why is he standing there watching me talk to you?”

  I half-turned to peer over my shoulder at Luke still standing where I’d left him. When Chris cleared his throat, I shifted my full attention back to him. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s curious how I know you.”

  “Did he ask about me? Did he ask about my spot?” Chris put his hand on my back and steered me toward the school. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he tries to get you to tell him about the team and stuff.”

  It was too hard to think with his hand one layer from my skin, the warmth seeping through my shirt. I felt like a stupid Rom Com heroine who shivered at every touch. Stupid, frilly-girl movies. I blamed Rachel.

  “If he asks you something, what are you going to say?” Chris asked.

  “If he has questions about the team, I’ll just tell him to ask Coach.”

  I watched him relax, approval taking over his worried expression. Maybe he was right to be suspicious of Luke. What other reason would he have for singling me out right away? He wanted Chris’s spot and the fastest way on the team would be to somehow beat Chris out. Maybe Luke was one of those guys who flirted with every girl in sight to get what he wanted.

  I thought about it. Was that what he was doing with me? Flirting? Would I even know flirting if I saw it aimed at me?

  “Good girl. I knew I could count on you.” Chris patted my shoulder like he did the guys on the team and hit me with that Ashton Kutcher grin. “So, did Coach say when he’s going to announce tryout captains?”

  “Not to me.”

  “You’d let me know if he did?” His hand made a little circle on my back. “I know you would have, babe. You’re good at letting me know what I need to know, aren’t you?”

  I could feel the grin, it kept growing. I know it’s dumb, but seeing him so confident in me made my day perk up a bit.

  “You know, after this is over, the team and Homecoming, everything’s going to be easy. It’s going to be good.” He stepped closer, looking down at me with an intensity that surprised me. Stunned me even more silent… if that was possible.

  Behind us, a car pulled up, radio blaring over everything else with some angry-girl-pop. Yeah, I know—how angry could they really be, right? I knew who it was by the way Chris’s hand dropped from my back.

  “I’ll see you on the field,” he said as he stepped away and headed back toward the parking lot.

  Grrr. Cheryl.

  Every time Chris and I started to get a moment, there she was.

  I really should have felt bad for her. She was being used for status, but sometimes it seemed she was really into Chris. Like she was more than just a trophy girlfriend who did her own thing on the side. Like she wanted more than just the Homecoming crown for herself. Like she wanted him.

  I had tried not to argue with Chris when he told me this part of The Plan. Sometimes I wondered if she had her own plan outside of The Plan. But, if I could hold out until the captain spot was his and the Homecoming crown was on his head, we could go back to how things were this summer. I mean, John Hughes made movies about this stuff we still watch today. You know, if we ignored the stupid slang and the embarrassing clothes.

  Chris needed to do all the right things, be seen with all the right people, and win all the right awards. He needed to put on his public face when the other girlfriend showed up. But that didn’t make it hurt less.

  Luke still stood at the head of the walkway. Arms crossed, brows lowered.

  “Hey.” He fell in with me as I passed him. “Why do you put up with that?”

  “I’m not putting up with anything.” As if it was any of his business anyway.

  “So it’s just my imagination that he’s only your friend when there isn’t a cheerleader around?”

  I was already feeling done with Luke Parker.

  Actually, Luke Parker and cheerleaders.

  Who did this guy think he was anyway? Pushy and nosy and watchful. Maybe it was suspicious.

  “Thanks for the ride, Luke. But that doesn’t mean you get to tell me what’s going on in my own life.”

  “I’m not trying to run your life. I just think you don’t know who your friends are.”

  We’d reached the door, and he took a step in front of me to open it, probably to hold it for me with those mama-made manners and all.

  “Listen, I’m just saying –”

  “You’re just saying nothing, Luke. You just got here and I don’t need your advice on a life I’ve been living for years.”

  “Maybe you do. You’re letting this guy walk all over you and he isn’t worth it. You think you’re the one,” he said those two little annoying words with a very bad Movie Announcer Guy voice. “But he’s spending all his time with her. What does that say?”

  Luke and his stupid all-seeing superpower.

  “I don’t think I’m the one,” I snapped, mimicking his bad impersonation. “We’re friends. We worked together this summer.”

  “Pfft.” Is that even a word?

  “If you think that getting chummy with me is going to get you on that field come pre-season, think again. I’m no one’s gateway to the soccer land.”

  “That’s what you think? You think I’m trying to get in with you?”

  I rolled my eyes. Isn’t that what I’d just said?

  A group of freshmen piled out of a parent-driven minivan at the end of the walkway and headed our direction. I used the distraction to contemplate a getaway.

  “I think you’re lying.” He grabbed my arm and leaned down toward me. “I think you don’t let anyone see you. You fly so low under the radar, you’re dodging treetops. Now you think something’s going somewhere it isn’t. I don’t know what you’re doing throwing your efforts away as stats girl, but if it’s for him? Pfft, you’re wasting your time. Not only does he not see you, he only sees himself.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not here for him. I’m here to be stats girl. Not all of us are bimbos. Some of us actually like sports.”

  “You keep playing this social peek-a-boo game and let me know how that works for you.” He jerked his head toward the door Chris had disappeared through. “He doesn’t see you. He just sees the girl who’s going to get him what he wants.”

  With that, Luke stormed into the school letting the door drop behind him.

  His mother would not be impressed.

  Neither was I.

  Chapter 6

  Chris carried the card table down to the field and began unfolding it next to where I’d put Coach’s binders.

  “What did Parker say to you?” he asked.

  “Nothing. He’s just grumpy. Not a morning person.”

  I lied to Chris. Chris Kent. What was I thinking?

  I glanced across the field to where Luke stood—arms crossed, weight shifted on one leg—scowling in our direction. Not even just our general direction. Right at us.

  Chris shoved one of the legs into place and locked it there. “He’s sniffing around in all the wrong places.”

  I honestly didn’t know whether I should be ecstatic or offended by that statement.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Chris continued. “Let him know where he stands.”

  Oh. My. Gosh.

  “How are you getting home after morning tryouts?” he asked.

  Chris still squatted next to the table, pushing the rusted legs out and forcing their locks to hold. His hair gleamed in the sunlight and it took every ounce of unknown willpower I had not to reach out and run my hand through it.

  “I don’t know.” Even I could hear the hope in my voice. Since Cheryl had driven herself, she wouldn’t need him to take her home.

  “Okay. Cool.” He straightened and ran his own hand through his hair. I watched as every strand fell back in its rightful place. “Let me know if Parker says anything funny to you.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Chris.”

  “No problem, babe.” He jogged away, joining the circle of guys stretching at midfield.

  “Whalen,” Coach bellowed at me from a few feet away. “We’re going to work them hard. I need accurate counts today.”

  “No problem, Coach.”

  He strode off blowing his whistle and shouting for attention.

  For three hours I timed laps, counted shots, blocks and saves, and generally tracked everything everyone did. At eleven, Coach gathered the team and glared at them as they stretched—or fought for consciousness—on the ground before him.

  “Men, you’ve made it through the first four sessions. Tonight is your last free ride. Tomorrow I announce tryout captains and begin cuts. Go home. Stretch. Hydrate. I’ll see you in eight hours.”

  Without another word, he strode off the field. Guys collapsed on the grass laughing, groaning. I collected the binders and made my way toward the school.

  “Hey, babe. Wait up.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Chris jogging my direction.

  “What did you think of tryouts today?”

  “They’re going really well.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, a surprising amount of uncertainty in his voice.

  The brief show of vulnerability widened my smile.

  “You think I’m doing all right?” he continued.

  I shifted the binders and laid my free hand on his arm. “I think you’re doing great. You had a high shot on goal percentage and your times are really good. He’d be crazy not to name you one of the captains.”

  Chris’s gaze dropped to the binders. “Is he making notations or anything?”

  I laughed. The man didn’t even sign his own dailies. He had me do that. I wasn’t sure Coach Sarche knew how to hold a pen.

  “He claims it’s all locked in his head. But at least he’s going to announce it tomorrow. Sounds like first thing, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Chris glanced down at the lower field where the cheerleaders still did their jumping around thing. “How are Parker’s stats?”

  Luke’s numbers rivaled Chris’s. One of them took the lead in every category. Where one snagged first place, the other fell to runner-up.

  “I haven’t been paying much attention to everyone else,” I said.

  He stopped and smiled down at me, the one that made my stomach flip every time. Every. Darn. Time.

  “Yeah. I know. Thanks, babe. I’ll see you at tonight’s session.”

  “Oh.” I looked up at him and caught his eye, trying to keep the disappointed look off my face.

  “You know I’d love to hang out. But Ben is having the seniors from tryouts and the cheerleaders over.”

  “All the seniors?”

  “Yeah,” he said, before stopping himself. “Well, you know. Not all the seniors.”

  Not me.

  Some of the guys filed past us as we stood there, him waiting for me to say it was okay and me hoping he’d realize he could bring me with him. No one would probably even notice I was there.

  “So,” he drawled. “I have to head in.”

  “Okay. Yeah. See you tonight.”

  His smile looked more relieved than pleased as he squeezed my arm then strolled away. I gave myself a moment before following everyone into the school. Even with all the time we’d hung out after work at the day camp that summer, we’d never done anything with his friends.

  When he’d talked about them, he made them sound like idiots. Like watching twilight creep in with me at the old Rec Center after the campers went home was better than being with them. We were a one-on-one pair and it was just hard to not get that one-on-one time.

  I still had my second favorite place to be. Up until Chris, it had been my favorite. It had been far too long since I’d spent time there, since I’d focused on what was important to my plan. Get one of my eleven paintings done to submit for college apps. Just one. You’d think I could do that.

  Tossing the binders in the locker and slamming it shut, I turned to find the ever-present Luke Parker standing behind me.

  “Hey. You going to Ben’s pool party? I guess it’s a seniors’ thing. He even invited me. Nice guy, huh?”

  I closed my eyes, just for a second, just to push it all away and be alone while the new, all-seeing guy towered over me.

  “Nope. I’m not going. You have fun though. I’m sure it’s a great way to get to know the team.” As if I cared about that.

  I started to walk away. I knew if I didn’t get out of there like super-quick I’d do something humiliating. And even if I didn’t, Luke’s frightening ability to read me would have him saying things I didn’t want to hear again. Not after the way Chris had brushed me off.

  “Thanks for the ride this morning,” I called over my shoulder. “Have fun. See ya tonight.”

  Chapter 7

  The lock slid free with a reassuring snick I hadn’t realized I’d been listening for. Acrid tinted air washed over me, welcoming, comforting. I pocketed the keys Mrs. Cleary had given me the last day of school. I guess part of me had been afraid I wouldn’t be able to get in. That the locks had been changed or the room moved. That the far corner—my corner—had been cleared out.

  But there, where I’d left it two months ago, was the two-by-three canvas covered by a pale blue cloth tarp. Other works in differing degrees of completion rested around my corner, my own little world walled off by the ancient bamboo screen.

  Pulling the tarp clear, a wave of nostalgia hit me. The scene, half finished on the canvas but fully realized in my mind, swam before me, the two realities overlapping. Blinking away the illusion, I scrutinized the picture with a critical eye. A woman stood by a stream, a hand raised to shade her eyes against the sun. The tree was heavy with leaves, the thick grass dotted with multi-colored flowers. Behind her, a stream flowed by, dragging the low-hanging willow branches along in its wake. But it was the woman who drew my attention every time. She was ageless, immortalized by a few strokes of a brush.

  My mother. Even then, the day we moved into Stonehaven, she was beautiful.

  I found the brushes I wanted and set them aside, tapping each on the edge of the counter to make sure no drawer dust clung to the soft bristles. Slipping the keys from my pocket again, I unlocked a cabinet at the front of the classroom. This was the Art Room Mecca. Ms. Cleary kept the expensive paints for the students who were serious about their work there.

  Freshman year I’d quickly realized the elective I’d thought to breeze through was the one thing I could count on every day to challenge me. Mrs. Cleary wouldn’t overlook me. She always asked the tough questions, pushed to make something better than good enough.