Free The ABC's of Kissing Boys by Tina Ferraro

something spontaneous?
    “There you are.” I waited until I had his attention, stepped closer, then slid in close to him.
    Tristan smiled brightly as his eyes widened in surprise, accenting his dark, long lashes. After a long moment, his gaze moved from mine to his circle of friends, then back to my gaze again.
    “Parker …,” he said in an urgent half whisper, like there might still be time for me to untangle myself and preserve my rep.
    I looped my arms around his neck, which was wider and firmer than I remembered, and a little sweaty, too. “It's okay, babe,” I said with a big play- along- with- me smile. “We've been outed. Everyone knows we're together, and it's cool.”
    “Cool?”
    “Yes—cool.” To drive my point home, I leaned in and kissed him. Smack on the lips. Not with the skill he'd shown me recently, but still not half bad, if I said so myself. Pulling back, I saw the question marks in his eyes.
    I totally had explaining to do, but for now, job done. “Listen, I'm late for practice. Talk to you tonight?”
    Tristan stood and took a step toward me, as if to f ol-low. “Without a doubt.”
    I turned and, as naturally as possible, walked away, chuckling, but not walking so fast or chuckling so loud that I missed the whoops and cheers from the guys in his crowd. Suffice it to say, I'd paid my debt. In spades.
    •
    Coach Hartley, on the other hand, was not so agreeable. After calling me into her office, she did a head- shaking, sighing thing certainly intended to make me feel guilty.
    “I understand you're not happy with me right now, Parker,” she said, clearly not happy herself. “But we have team rules, and they start with being prompt and ready to play, remember?”
    I pressed my lips together so that I didn't let out what I really wanted to say: how I'd always shown up on time, always been ready to play, and a fat lot of good that had done me.
    “Remember?” she repeated.
    It was my turn to sigh. “Yes, I remember.”
    Heartless moved to the door and called Lyric Wolensky in. I'd known Lyric since our first year here, and, while she was a decent goalie, her personality off the field was as dull as her mousy brown hair. She often got lost or forgotten in the chaotic chatter of the locker room, and when she did speak up, her top lip barely moved.
    Coach settled back behind her desk after Lyric took the hard plastic chair beside me. “Girls, I know you both expected to make varsity. I had every intention of moving the whole team up. But it became a numbers game.” She shrugged. “Please know it was tough for me to make those decisions and post that list.”
    I hugged myself so my heart didn't bleed all over her carpet.
    “And know I've got big things planned for you this season. Leadership roles and inclusion in pivotal decisions. Next year, when you're seniors on varsity, if things have gone well, I'll see if I can extend those same privileges. So try not to look at this year as being held back as much as preparing you for great things next year.”
    I followed Lyric's lead of a weak smile, when all I could think was Nice try, Heartless.
    “And of course, you are the first choices if a position should open this fall on varsity. So stay at the top of your game, set the right example for the younger players and be ready to lead the team to a championship.”
    Lyric thanked her, while I just nodded.
    “At the end of practice today,” Hartley went on, “I'll be naming you JV captain, Parker, and you,” she said, looking at Lyric, “cocaptain. Start preparing a few words now, because after the applause, I know you'll want to speak.” She grinned, like this public recognition and acknowledgment of our JV- ness was an honor.
    Since my parents did raise me to have manners, I mumbled something to her that sounded grateful. Then I wandered out of her office, my mind all over Chrissandra's reaction, which I wagered would fall somewhere between an “I told you so” and a nose- in-the- air