Page 5

MAYA

I texted Sammy to meet me in Mom’s car before school. With the whirlwind that had been the past twelve hours, I was dying to tell her all the juicy gossip in person. Being a teacher, Mom arrived at school early, so I always had a lot of time to kill. Usually we’d meet inside, but I wanted privacy with my earth-shattering news.

Because it was earth-shattering. It was the most amazing thing to have happened to me in all my life, even more amazing than making the cheer team or the 200 likes I’d once gotten on a social media post.

But this, this topped them both. But until I shared it with someone, it didn’t seem real. And I’d been bursting to tell Sammy. I hadn’t told Mom yet because she’d probably slam it as being nonsense and lecture me on how relationships weren’t something to be treated frivolously.

Sammy listened in spellbound wonder as I gave a play by play of the library incident and Oliver’s proposition that we fake date. But whereas I thought she’d be thrilled for me, Sammy was dubious about this arrangement.

“So, he kissed you to make Savannah jealous?” she asked.

“No, not jealous,” I said, “to give Savannah a message.”

“And what message is that?”

“That they’re over,” I said.

“Are you sure he’s not using you?” Sammy asked. “You know, you have crushed on him for some time.”

“He doesn’t know that,” I said with a half-grimace, “though, to be fair, who hasn’t crushed on Oliver Blackwell?”

“True,” Sammy conceded. “I’m just worried, you know, that you might get hurt.”

“Hurt? Aw, you’re so sweet to worry, but no way I’ll get hurt.” I squirmed with joy. “ It’s Oliver Blackwell !”

“Maya,” Sammy said sternly, putting on her mom voice. I guess you could say my bestie was the more grounded of the two of us, less flighty, less awestruck than me.

“Okay, I’m under no illusions that Oliver is going to fall in love with me,” I said, “but just think...I get to kiss Oliver again. It’s like all my dreams have come true.” I smiled and batted my mascara-covered eyelashes in a slightly supercilious way, unable to stop my boasting.

Sammy sighed, seeming to appreciate how important this was to me, but only for a moment. “What about Savannah?” she asked with a scowl.

“He just wants to move on from her,” I said, mirroring Oliver’s own explanation.

“Yeah, fine,” Sammy said, “but how do you think Savannah is going to react to this?”

“Huh?”

“On. The. Cheer. Team.” Sammy spelled it out for me slowly. “You think Savannah will just accept that Oliver’s suddenly dating you? You do know that they break up and get back together as regularly as a lunar eclipse?”

I stared. I had no idea how regular lunar eclipses were, but I did know a little about #Olivannah’s past history—everyone did.

“I’m just saying, what if Savannah doesn’t like the idea of Oliver dating you? What if she gets upset with you?”

Sammy’s words hit like a punch to the face (not that I had ever been punched in the face, but once I’d been smacked on the head by a wayward frisbee and that had hurt a lot.) It hadn’t crossed my mind that Savannah could make things difficult for me.

“You mean, on the cheer team?”

“Maybe...” Sammy replied.

“She wouldn’t,” I snapped back. “The cheer team is like a family.”

“She might. Cheer captain,” Sammy held out her right hand, “and junior cheerleader.” She put out her left hand as if weighing up the two. The junior cheerleader left hand went down low, way down low, clearly showing that the cheer captain would have the upper hand.

I bit down on my lower lip, my stomach knotting at the very real possibility that Savannah could make my life somewhat miserable if she wanted to. But the moment was temporary and I sprung back in joyful rapture. I couldn’t let something minor like that ruin the opportunity that Oliver offered. To be his girlfriend, albeit fake, would be worth it.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay,” I said with a carefree shrug.

Sammy’s lips pressed tightly and her eyes narrowed with doubt.

“It’ll be fine!” I reassured, but my confidence was fake because maybe she was right and I’d jumped too quickly, was getting in way too deep. A silly, star-struck junior who had her head in the clouds. For that reason, I decided not to tell Sammy that Oliver wanted to meet me at lunch break.

And I was pleased I hadn’t. Because no matter that I stalled at my locker and pretended I couldn’t find my books and then needed to go to the restroom, Oliver never showed.

Yep, seemed my fake boyfriend was already backing down.

I MET UP WITH ROSE before cheer practice, ensuring I had an ally before facing Savannah. But Savannah wasn’t there and the gossip spread that she was sick. There were squinty sneers from a few of the seniors, but nobody said anything so I carried on as usual. With the Owls playing for a semifinal position, we went out to the field to co-ordinate our opening cheer with the band.

As we practiced to the music, the football players started to wind up their training, some of them were stretching, others were jogging slowly, and in a move that made my heart leap, Oliver was obviously watching me.

I felt great pressure not to muck up and was relieved when Coach Foster called it a day. Oliver was quickly by my side, but because Savannah wasn’t here, I wondered why he needed to put on an act.

“Did you get my text?” he asked. “Sorry, I couldn’t meet you but I had a meeting with Coach that went way too long.”

I half-smiled and spoke through closed lips as if I was trialing for the ventriloquism club. “You know Savannah isn’t here today, so you don’t have to put on a show.”

Oliver shrugged and looked around as if he had only just noticed Savannah’s absence. While he did that, I pulled down on my bike shorts, trying to make them cover a little more of my legs.

“You guys looked good,” Oliver said, his smile melting me. It was possible I could spend the rest of my life staring into his warm brown eyes and those luscious lips. “Hey, I gotta go shower. Do you need a ride home?”

Had Oliver not heard what I said about Savannah? I would usually text Mom or Dad to pick me up if Mom wasn’t working late at school, and today she wasn’t.

“I’ll get Mom...” I started to say, but Oliver butted in with ease. “Do you know my car, it’s...”

“I know it,” I said, nodding. Of course I knew his silver sporty SUV, its license plate embedded in my brain.

“Meet me there,” he said, breaking into a run as he crossed the field ahead of me.

I gulped, uncertain as to why Oliver was taking the whole fake dating thing so seriously when Savannah wasn’t here to witness it. He’d already organized our first ‘date’ for Saturday, so it was surprising that he wanted to take me home now.

I forgot Sammy’s warning to be cautious and quickly grabbed my bag, texting Mom that I would be getting a ride. She’d assume it was with Rose because her father had dropped me home before.

I waited on the edge of the parking lot, trying to be invisible. Logic told me Oliver would come to his car eventually, but I couldn’t shake the thought that he’d stand me up again, just like at lunch break. Everything seemed surreal and I was waiting for someone to jump out and say I’d been pranked.

But within minutes, Oliver was striding through the parking lot and I stepped out from the shadows.

“For a second, I thought you’d left,” Oliver said.

I smiled, not wanting to admit my insecurity. The butterflies resurfaced and swirled in my stomach as he opened the passenger door for me, his smile and scent sending me lightheaded and dizzy.

“You know, I could have called Mom for a ride home,” I reiterated as I clicked up the seat belt and positioned my backpack at my feet.

“It’s no problem,” Oliver said, starting the car. “It’s the least I can do, considering the favor you’re doing for me.”

“It’s no problem,” I echoed with a shy grin.

I’d held imaginary conversations with Oliver regularly over the years of crushing on him, but now that I was sitting next to him, my mind went blank. I focused my gaze on Oliver’s hands guiding the steering wheel.

“How did your training go?” he asked, turning down the volume of the car stereo.

“Really good,” I said. “Except Savannah wasn’t there, so we had to change a few routines.”

Oliver nodded, but didn’t mention her. “We had a good session. The team is pumped for St. Martin’s.”

“Yeah, so are we,” I said.

“Don’t forget our date on Saturday.”

“Okie-dokie!” I chirped enthusiastically, cringing as I realized I sounded like my Dad. That was his pet catchphrase, along with ‘ super-duper’ whenever he was in a cheery agreeable mood. Which was most of the time. Nothing fazed my Dad, ever.

Oliver gave me a rundown on the Owls’ past record against St. Martin’s, going right back to when his oldest brother played for the team. And though I followed football, the finer details of the rules and stats went over my head when he talked about passing yards and completion ratings and turnover differentials.

I kept smiling and nodding like I understood, determined I would make more of an effort in learning the sport because Oliver’s passion was obvious. All too soon, Oliver was driving down Cherry Lane and reminiscing over the neighborhood.

Do the Stuarts still live there? Is that a new fence? Wow, that tree is massive now!

As he slowed outside his old house, he looked up to his old bedroom window. “That’s where I hung my Owls flag,” he said. “You still have it, right?”

“Yeah, it’s on my bedroom wall,” I said.

He narrowed his eyes and teased, “Really? That’s cool.”

“You can come and see if you like,” I blurted out, not thinking about how shocked Mom would be to know Oliver Blackwell had brought me home.

“Some other time?” Oliver said smoothly. “Gotta get home.”

“Of course,” I said, a wave of dejection washing over me. I needed to tamp my enthusiasm. I was acting too eager, forgetting that this wasn’t a real relationship. I was his fake girlfriend, just an act to keep Savannah away from him. I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the car door. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Sure,” Oliver said, but as I was getting out, he reached out, grabbing hold of my arm. A warm tingly rush spread through me. “Hey, I appreciate you doing this, you know.”

I smiled tightly and forced a bubbly reply, “You’re welcome.” I closed the door and stood at the curb watching and fluttering a wave as he drove away.

I had a lot of work to do. If I was going to be Oliver’s fake girlfriend, I needed to make it as authentic as possible. And now that I knew Oliver’s passion was solely and totally football, I needed to spend the evening with Dad—learning about football.