Free Hard to Get by Emma Carlson Berne Page B

mouth with the first bite.
    â€œKels told me.” Becca licked the salt off a cashew. “Poor Willy. He’s probably headed for a life of drugs and misery and it’ll be all your fault.”
    I tried to stick my tongue out at her but my mouth was full of tuna. I settled for throwing a baby carrot at her head.
    Kelly took a swig of water from her Nalgene. “Hey, did you guys hear thatTaylor’s getting her prom dress custom-made? Some place that makes wedding dresses is doing it.”
    Becca huffed. “Kelly, is it really necessary to have up-to-the-minute updates on the life of Taylor Slutmaster?”
    â€œIt’s fine.” I lay back on the grass, stuffing my bag under my head for a pillow, and crooked an arm over my eyes. “I’m totally, one hundred and fifty percent over it. I’ve moved on. On, on, on. On into the sunset, riding a white horse. Good-bye, Dave. Good-bye, Taylor. I hope you both get married and have lots of babies. Have a nice life together.”
    â€œYeah, you sound really over it,” Becca said. From the dark behind my eyes, I heard rustling and the crunching of what sounded like apple slices.
    â€œAre you sure they’re even going to prom?” Kelly asked.
    I snorted. “Why wouldn’t they? I’m sure Dave’s got the hotel room all reserved and waiting.”
    â€œOhhh! I cannot stand the idea of watching them hump each other on the dance floor like two little poodles,” Becca moaned.
    I sat up. “Thanks for the image, Becs.I’ll carry that around with me the rest of the day.”
    â€œDon’t worry, Val, we’ll warn you if they get too close,” Kelly told me. She swigged from her Nalgene again and screwed the top on, resting it in the grass next to her.
    Becca finished her apple and crumpled up the sandwich bag. I leaned back on my hands and gazed at the blue sky. A few puffy clouds skated overhead. The little knots of juniors and seniors scattered over the lawn were breaking up as people headed inside to finish homework or out to their cars to smoke. Next to me, Becca took out her compact and combed her shiny black hair, which already looked perfect. The air was very still and quiet. I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of clover, listening to the sleepy drone of a bee somewhere nearby.
    â€œHey!” Kelly said suddenly. We all jumped a little and looked at her. “We still have fifteen minutes. Let’s go check out rugby practice.”
    I shrugged. “Okay.”
    Becca snapped her compact shut. “Sure. I could use a little eye candy right about now.”
    We strolled across the lawn towardthe metal bleachers glinting in the sun. A group of seniors was hurtling around the grass like colorful, sweaty gibbons. As we neared the bleachers, Kelly started waving so hard at one big, dark-haired guy that I thought her arm was going to fly off.
    â€œBruce! Bruce!” she trilled. “Hi!”
    â€œWho’s that?” Becca asked. She perched on a bleacher and I slid in beside her.
    â€œOh my God, he’s the best rugby player,” Kelly said breathlessly as Bruce lumbered up, patting his face with the hem of his T-shirt, revealing chiseled abs covered with a mat of damp hair.
    â€œWhat’s up, ladies?” Bruce said, breathing heavily. “Hey, Kelly. I saw you in the regional semifinals. Nice finish on the butterfly.”
    â€œThanks. Bruce, these are my friends, Becca and Val.”
    We all nodded. I glanced at my watch. There were only a few more minutes until the bell, and I still had to get my books for the afternoon. I stood up.
    â€œCool, nice to meet you, Bruce. Girls, I’m going to go inside—” I was cut off when Kelly grabbed my arm and yanked meback down on the bleachers. I sat down on the warm metal hard.
    â€œSo you guys should have seen the amazing goal Bruce scored during the scrimmage last week,” Kelly twittered. She kept a