The Rivalry

I shot Lisa a look that said she needed to keep her comments to herself. I’d hoped once our practices began, her attitude would improve, but no such luck. If Lisa kept pushing the line with me, I’d pull her aside with Samantha, our head coach, and have a chat about team unity.

The final pair of freshmen stepped off, and the two girls tumbled down the mat. Kelly had been all-state in gymnastics her senior year of high school, and it showed. Her full twisting layout at the end of the pass looked effortless.

“Water, Commandant?” one of the guys joked.

“What?” I fake scowled. “You had water yesterday.” I glanced at the clock. It was a good stopping point. “Okay, let’s take a quick break.”

I moved toward my water bottle and Lisa followed me like a bad shadow. She hovered around me as I drank. “Have you picked the travel squad yet?”

Was she serious? “No, but it’s only the second day of camp.”

She bristled. “I was talking to my boyfriend—he’s pre-med—about how great it would be, since I wasn’t selected as captain, to at least be on the travel squad.”

I gave her a plain look. “Message received, Lisa.”

“What?” She made a face. “I don’t know what you mean.” Although she so clearly did.

It only exaggerated the nagging headache I’d been battling all day. I fished a bottle of Advil out of my purse, popped two pills into my mouth, and swallowed them down.

Lisa bent and picked something up off the ground beside my purse. She stared at the white napkin in her hand, reading the handwritten name and numbers on it—

Crap!

I nearly spit out my water. I’d left the napkin with Jay’s info on it in my purse, unable to deal with it. It must have fallen out, and now it was in Lisa’s hand like a grenade with the pin pulled.

“Who’s Jay Harris?” she asked, her tone innocuous. She didn’t seem to recognize the name, thank God. I wanted to rip the napkin from her grip, but tried to play it cool. If I went after it too aggressively, it might tip her off.

“Nobody,” I said quickly, lying. Jay wasn’t a nobody. In fact, he’d dominated my thoughts every day since I’d left Biff’s more than a week ago. “He’s just some guy I met.”

“You call him?”

“No, I don’t think I’m going to.”

She nodded and strode toward the trashcan near the door, carrying the napkin with her.

Wait a minute, a voice inside me screamed. “What are you doing?”

She paused. “You said you weren’t going to call him.”

“I haven’t made up my mind.” My voice wavered. “It’s just, he’s—”

“Not pre-med?” Lisa nodded as if she understood completely. “I told you Brent is, right? I get it, no guy’s perfect. Well, mine is. I meant most other guys.”

She marched back to me and handed the napkin over. I stared at the black ink. He did seem perfect, other than the one flaw. Too bad that flaw was so big, it’d swallow me whole.

“Time’s almost up,” Lisa said.

“What?”

She pointed over my shoulder, and I turned to see the clock. “Break time’s almost up.”

“Oh, right,” I said, shoving the napkin inside my purse and pretending I wasn’t relieved to have it back.

While the incoming freshmen finished stacking the mats, a side door opened and a guy peeked in.

“Brent!” Lisa shrieked in delight. It was so loud, it couldn’t be anything other than a call for attention. She wanted everyone to know her boyfriend was here to pick her up after practice. He stepped inside as she hustled toward him. He was so slender, it looked like a strong breeze would knock him down, and as Lisa reached him and attacked him with her lips, she nearly did.

After she’d collected her stuff, he took her hand and pushed open the door for her.

Ugly jealousy flooded me. Despite her personality, Lisa had found a guy who liked spending time with her. Why couldn’t I? The napkin was burning a hole in my purse. I pulled it out and stared at the numbers.

After Chuck finished laughing at me about going into Biff’s, he told me I was being stupid about this. Since I had the maturity of a four-year-old, I immediately told him he was stupid. What was the point in talking to a guy who played for Michigan? We couldn’t date. We couldn’t even be friends.

“Hi!” Marcy answered on the second ring when I called.

“Hey. How was the honeymoon?”

“Awesome!” she said. “It rained and we both got seasick. We never left the cabin.”

“I think your definition of awesome is different than mine.”

She laughed. “I repeat, we never left the cabin, if you know what I’m saying.”

“Ah.”

“We had sex. Like, tons and tons of dirty, hot sex.”

I pretended to be dumb. “Thank you for explaining it to me.”