Page 16
Story: Come As You Are
The girl gives me a toothy smile, and even though I am reasonably certain I am heterosexual, I also feel like I would give her all my earthly possessions if she’d smile at me like that again someday. “Oh, I like you. You’re the Rumson Girl?”
I resist the urge to grimace. “Evie.”
“Isabel McEvoy.” There’s a brief moment where I feel like everyone’s waiting to see if that means anything to me, but it’s over so quickly that I must’ve imagined it. “Matty and I go way back.” Before I can respond to that, she tips her head to the side, her gorgeous hair flowing over her shoulder. “Hey, what did you sign up for on Friday afternoons?”
“Nothing yet, I don’t think.” I glance down at the haphazard schedule I’ve been jotting down in my Notes app. “So far I’ve got Book Club, Baking Club, and Board Games Club, so I guess I need something else with aB?Notbasketball,” I clarify to Matt before he can get any ideas.
“Well, ‘community service’ starts with aC,” says Isabel, “but we do collectbottlesfor recycling sometimes? Andbringfood to the elderly?”
I nod. “That counts.” Not exactly the Friday night of my dreams, but it’s not like I have any plans, and anyway, howdoes one say no to community service? Or to Isabel McEvoy? “Where do I sign up?”
“Oh, I got it. Don’t worry,” she says with another smile that has undoubtedly brought at least 50 percent of the student body to its knees. “I won’t forget you.”
She says it like I’m memorable, like I’m somebody, like I’m not just a campus punch line or a warm body or a gateway to somebody else, and in that moment, she is my favorite person at Camden.
“You know,” she adds, “I thought you’d take a little more convincing.”
“Do I not look like someone who would service my community?” I bite my lips as even Matt’s teammate looks up from his phone at that one. “Hold on, I hear how that sounds.”
“No judgment from me,” Matt says with a shrug. “I am all for servicing the community. I know that’s what I’ll be doing on Friday night.”
“Let me guess—there may even be bottles involved?”
“Probably not bringing food to the elderly,” he admits, his mouth widening into the cocky grin I’m coming to know very well, “unless you count—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Isabel and I say simultaneously.
“You’re both no fun,” Matt says, but the smile on his face doesn’t fade in the slightest. “And speaking of people who are no fun! Grayson! Come over here!”
I turn to see Salem not-so-subtly looking for an out, but finding none, he trudges over to the basketball table, handsjammed in the pockets of his hoodie. “I already told you, I’m coming on Thursday. You can chill on the hard sell.”
“Can’t a guy just say hi to his roommate?”
“And a girl say hi to her bestie?” I can’t resist adding.
His answering scowl does not disappoint, but you can see the exact moment he spots Isabel standing behind me, because he stands up a little straighter, adding inches to his height in an instant, and adjusts the strap on his messenger bag as if it’ll make him look even 5 percent less like he just rolled out of bed. The urge to tease him is so strong, I have to change the subject in order to stop myself.
Of course, what comes out of my mouth is “I’m going to service the community on Friday night.”
Well, at least that drops the scowl from his face, though his smirk isn’t any more welcome. “Thanks for the advance warning. I’ll make sure to wear earplugs.”
Oh, I am going to cheer extra loud at tryouts.
Extra, extra loud.
Chapter Five
SEVEN O’CLOCK FALLS RIGHT INthe middle of the study-hour block, but as I learn by Thursday night, no one really cares where you are in the evenings if you’re on campus and your homework’s getting done at some point. By ten minutes to, my homework is long complete, and I’m wearing the closest thing to a cheerleader outfit I could find, partly because it’ll annoy the hell out of Salem and partly because it was the best costume choice I could think of for the current mission: encourage Salem to make the team (a thing his parents clearly think of as good). Aaaand if it maybe helps some of the other guys on the team think I’m hot, that’s maybe not the worst thing as far as my new reputation goes.
Sabrina’s door cracks open a few seconds after I knock, and her dark gray eyes look me up and down, taking in my cropped sweater and pleated skirt. “Did you seriously dress up like a slutty cheerleader?”
Sabrina’s wearing a tight black skirt to go with black tights and a black top whose shape I cannot begin to understand. “Did you bring an extra blood bag in case you get thirsty?”
“I’m sure I can find some on the court after a few minutes of Salem going up against the Camden basketball team.” She swipes on a coat of black cherry lip gloss and yanks the door closed behind her. “Why are we doing this again?”
“Because he’s your brother and you love and support him,” I remind her as we head toward the gym.
“So why areyoudoing this again?”
I resist the urge to grimace. “Evie.”
“Isabel McEvoy.” There’s a brief moment where I feel like everyone’s waiting to see if that means anything to me, but it’s over so quickly that I must’ve imagined it. “Matty and I go way back.” Before I can respond to that, she tips her head to the side, her gorgeous hair flowing over her shoulder. “Hey, what did you sign up for on Friday afternoons?”
“Nothing yet, I don’t think.” I glance down at the haphazard schedule I’ve been jotting down in my Notes app. “So far I’ve got Book Club, Baking Club, and Board Games Club, so I guess I need something else with aB?Notbasketball,” I clarify to Matt before he can get any ideas.
“Well, ‘community service’ starts with aC,” says Isabel, “but we do collectbottlesfor recycling sometimes? Andbringfood to the elderly?”
I nod. “That counts.” Not exactly the Friday night of my dreams, but it’s not like I have any plans, and anyway, howdoes one say no to community service? Or to Isabel McEvoy? “Where do I sign up?”
“Oh, I got it. Don’t worry,” she says with another smile that has undoubtedly brought at least 50 percent of the student body to its knees. “I won’t forget you.”
She says it like I’m memorable, like I’m somebody, like I’m not just a campus punch line or a warm body or a gateway to somebody else, and in that moment, she is my favorite person at Camden.
“You know,” she adds, “I thought you’d take a little more convincing.”
“Do I not look like someone who would service my community?” I bite my lips as even Matt’s teammate looks up from his phone at that one. “Hold on, I hear how that sounds.”
“No judgment from me,” Matt says with a shrug. “I am all for servicing the community. I know that’s what I’ll be doing on Friday night.”
“Let me guess—there may even be bottles involved?”
“Probably not bringing food to the elderly,” he admits, his mouth widening into the cocky grin I’m coming to know very well, “unless you count—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Isabel and I say simultaneously.
“You’re both no fun,” Matt says, but the smile on his face doesn’t fade in the slightest. “And speaking of people who are no fun! Grayson! Come over here!”
I turn to see Salem not-so-subtly looking for an out, but finding none, he trudges over to the basketball table, handsjammed in the pockets of his hoodie. “I already told you, I’m coming on Thursday. You can chill on the hard sell.”
“Can’t a guy just say hi to his roommate?”
“And a girl say hi to her bestie?” I can’t resist adding.
His answering scowl does not disappoint, but you can see the exact moment he spots Isabel standing behind me, because he stands up a little straighter, adding inches to his height in an instant, and adjusts the strap on his messenger bag as if it’ll make him look even 5 percent less like he just rolled out of bed. The urge to tease him is so strong, I have to change the subject in order to stop myself.
Of course, what comes out of my mouth is “I’m going to service the community on Friday night.”
Well, at least that drops the scowl from his face, though his smirk isn’t any more welcome. “Thanks for the advance warning. I’ll make sure to wear earplugs.”
Oh, I am going to cheer extra loud at tryouts.
Extra, extra loud.
Chapter Five
SEVEN O’CLOCK FALLS RIGHT INthe middle of the study-hour block, but as I learn by Thursday night, no one really cares where you are in the evenings if you’re on campus and your homework’s getting done at some point. By ten minutes to, my homework is long complete, and I’m wearing the closest thing to a cheerleader outfit I could find, partly because it’ll annoy the hell out of Salem and partly because it was the best costume choice I could think of for the current mission: encourage Salem to make the team (a thing his parents clearly think of as good). Aaaand if it maybe helps some of the other guys on the team think I’m hot, that’s maybe not the worst thing as far as my new reputation goes.
Sabrina’s door cracks open a few seconds after I knock, and her dark gray eyes look me up and down, taking in my cropped sweater and pleated skirt. “Did you seriously dress up like a slutty cheerleader?”
Sabrina’s wearing a tight black skirt to go with black tights and a black top whose shape I cannot begin to understand. “Did you bring an extra blood bag in case you get thirsty?”
“I’m sure I can find some on the court after a few minutes of Salem going up against the Camden basketball team.” She swipes on a coat of black cherry lip gloss and yanks the door closed behind her. “Why are we doing this again?”
“Because he’s your brother and you love and support him,” I remind her as we head toward the gym.
“So why areyoudoing this again?”
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