Free Do Over by Emily Evans Page B

Manhattan.”
    “New York? Exciting. Do you go there every other weekend? I’m at Dad’s this weekend—by the way. You can drop me there.”
    “Maybe once a month. The flight’s too much of a hassle to go more often.”
    “I’d love to see New York. The museums, the plays, the stores.” I messed with the radio and we talked about music until we reached Dad’s house.
    Trey parked the car on the curb and got out. I opened my own door and met him on the sidewalk. “Want to come in?”
    “Sure.” Trey followed me up the path, his gaze on my shoulder. I lifted a hand self-consciously to the broken strap.
    Trey stopped and stiffened. His fists clenched and he looked pissed. “Did...?” He didn’t finish the sentence, but turned back and strode directly toward the car.
    “No.” I followed him, my hand out. “Stop. It’s not what you’re thinking. Blaine’s watch caught it. No big deal.” I caught up to him at the driver’s side door. “His bad kissing pretty much ended our date. Not this strap.”
    When my hand touched his arm, Trey turned back to me. His green eyes searched mine then his posture relaxed. “He should have known how you are about clothes. Tearing them would not be the way to win you over.”
    “I know,” I agreed. “When they do that in the movies, I can’t think passion. I just think, ‘She’s going to have to repair that.’”
    Trey relaxed against the car door. “Blaine’s a bad kisser, huh?”
    “Yeah. Some guys you can train. Some are great already, and with some there’s no potential.” My arms waved through the air as I talked. “Blaine’s too sure of himself to be trained.”
    Trey touched my arm. “What are you making me to drink?”
    “We’ll see.” I went back up the path and dodged the prickly sago palm. “Watch out for that one,” I warned him. “It wins most of the time.” In the dark, the palm leaves were the same shade of green as his shirt, a nice backdrop for his green eyes.
    Dad was standing in the foyer looking at Aster’s remaining moving boxes. I hadn’t told mom, but Aster would be fully, officially moved in this week. I felt kind of bad for Aster. She was giving up her apartment to move in here. When she and Dad split up, finding a new place and moving again so soon was going to be a pain.
    “Hey, kids.” Dad automatically eyed his watch, checking my curfew. “I thought you were out with Lauren?”
    “No. Blaine. He was a loser so Trey gave me a lift home.”
    “Good. Grab a box, Trey.”
    I toed off my heels and lifted a box. “He’s going to help me with the playlist for prom.”
    Aster came down the stairs, carrying an empty basket. “Hey, thanks, guys. You know, I can get you a playlist of the songs we use at the games to pump up the crowd.” She lifted a box, arching her back.
    “Okay, thanks.”
    ***
    Lying on the beige carpet of the game room beside Trey, I tapped the fluffy, feather-covered end of my pen against his cheek. “Thumbs up or down?”
    Trey pressed his sock-clad feet against the seat of my sofa. “No.”
    “The king and queen have to dance to something ,” I pointed out.
    “Not that.”
    I clicked the button, switching the player to another ballad and kept my gaze on the bookshelf. “Do you think my dates from Trallwyn have been respectful because of Dad? Like, they think he’ll have the team beat them up or something if they get out of line?”
    Trey rolled his head toward me. “Yeah.”
    “Hmm. Guess I’ll have to re-work my dating strategy for college.”
    Trey ran his index finger up the inside of my arm. “Do you want them less respectful?” he asked suggestively.
     “Sometimes,” I admitted.
    Dad popped his head in. “Trey, you’d better hit the sack. You’ve got a game coming up and sleep’s important.”
    ***
    “My sister’s being such a freak about the prom.” John shoved a hand through his hair. “She’s still a junior, but she thinks our prom is going to drag hers down.”
    His