Dare You to Chase the Soccer Player (Rock Valley High 5)

Glistening spray straight to the eyes.

Blinded and in agony.

Alanis grounded me.

Charlotte: Well if it’s true...

...maybe he won’t be into you anymore and your problems are solved.

I groaned again. That idea was almost worse, despite the fact that I’d sworn him off forever. I couldn’t fall for Zane, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to think I was the world’s biggest klutz.

With that weighing on my mind, I waited in my chair until Alanis came stomping back an hour later. She didn’t look at me, not even to share a blistering commentary on my performance on the field. She ignored me completely, allowing me to sit in a boiling pot of tension for the rest of the shift. And when all of her work was done, she left without another word.

I guess I should’ve been grateful that she hadn’t outright fired me after that mishap. No one would’ve blamed her if she had. But I had the feeling things weren’t going to get any better from here on out.

My normally sunny disposition was taking a major hit. For the first time in a long time, dread hit me at the thought of working another day like this. Of being under Alanis’ scorching glare and having to hide my feelings for a boy who was so obviously an immortal among men. Totally impossible.

For the first time, I truly understood what it felt like to be a lost cause.

Chapter Nine

Getting lost under a pile of blankets sounded like the easiest way to go. I snuggled into the pillow, my freshly-washed hair splaying out across the pillowcase and giving off the scent of my grapefruit shampoo. Shame was a new emotion for me. Usually, I could shrug mistakes off. I was pretty good at laughing at myself when I did something stupid and getting over it, but not with Zane. This time, it hurt. I didn’t like it.

I was officially going to hide away in my room forever.

“Hey, kiddo, how’s the new job going?”

Dad walked into my room without knocking. It was a habit of his I’d been trying to break, but I didn’t make a fuss about it tonight. A girl needed her daddy during times like these. He sat on the edge of my bed in his white shirt and suit pants, a black tie hanging loosely from his neck. A hint of a tattoo peeked out from under his collar, a reminder of the days when he played lead guitar in a band. I pushed myself up enough to sit and kept the blanket wrapped around me.

“It’s going about as good as a root canal without any numbing juice.” I rubbed my jaw as if I could actually feel the drill whirling. “That’s how it’s going.”

Dad winced and loosened his tie until he could pull it over his head. He patted my knee through the comforter with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, kiddo. Hollywood’s a different world. I have the feeling it’s going to be near impossible to get your foot in the door there. You’re in for a fight. Either way, whether you succeed or not, I’m proud of you for trying.”

I pouted, clenching the blankets in my fists. Dad wasn’t going to be so proud of me if I told him I was thinking about quitting. Why should I put up with Alanis for another few weeks of my life if all she was going to do was give me the evil eye from across the room? I had better things to do...like discovering what I was going to do for the rest of my life if I didn’t get into the L Makeup Institute in Los Angeles.

There really was no winning here.

“So, you’re saying I should quit while I’m ahead?” I asked, looking hopefully up at him.

He chuckled and patted my knee again. “Not a chance. See the job through to the end. And if you still don’t get a recommendation, at least you know that you gave it your best. That’s what counts.”

I grumbled into my blanket as Dad said goodnight and headed for the door. So much for the easy out. My gut ached at the thought of going back to Alanis’ trailer tomorrow. I might have been able to shrug off teachers who hated me, like evil Mr. Garret, but this was different. Every muscle in my body ached at the idea of failing around Alanis.

Don’t even get me started on the fact that I’d made a fool of myself in front of Zane. That was even worse.

I needed some chocolate therapy.

Groaning, I sank back down into my blankets. Yes, hiding forever beneath blankets was the way to go. No more school. No more job. And no more humiliation.

My phone began to buzz on my nightstand. I reached over to grab it, wondering who was calling this late. The number was unlisted—probably a robocall. I hesitated over the end call button, but answered it at the last second.

“If you’re calling for money, I’m a broke sixteen-year-old who funds her makeup addiction with the few ba

bysitting jobs I can get, so don’t waste your time. I’m hopeless.”

“I’m not calling for money, but I wouldn’t call you hopeless. Cute? Yes. Funny? Yes. But never hopeless.”

I sat straight up at the sound of the male voice coming through my phone. Every nerve along my skin buzzed with excitement.