Shut Out Page 3

  “That’s the point.”

  “Good night, Chloe.”

  After tossing the phone onto my bed, I flipped the latch and pushed the window open, careful to move the screen aside before leaning into the warm late-August air.

  “You are such a cliché,” I hissed down at Randy.

  “Clichés work, though, don’t they?”

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “I’m proving it.”

  “Proving what?”

  “Friday night,” Randy reminded me. “You told me to prove that you meant more to me than the rivalry. I’m here to prove it.” He whipped out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and looked up at me with a hopeful gaze, the light from the lamppost glinting off his brown irises. “I’m sorry about today. I want to make it up to you. See?” He waved the bouquet a little, making sure I didn’t miss it.

  I couldn’t help laughing at him. God, he could be so cute sometimes. A little pathetic, but mostly cute.

  It was also cute how he shimmied up the drainpipe, trying desperately not to squish the flowers, and tumbled clumsily through my bedroom window.

  He gave me a lopsided grin as I took the flowers from him and put them in a vase on my desk. When I looked again, Randy was lying on my bed. His eyes were on me, and his arms were folded beneath his head, showing off his toned biceps. I blushed and hoped he didn’t notice me checking him out. His ego was big enough.

  “Carnations,” he said, raising both eyebrows and jerking his chin at them, all cocky. “You like pink carnations, so that’s what I got. Proud?”

  “Very,” I admitted. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”

  “I remember everything you tell me.” He tapped a finger to his temple. “It’s all right here.”

  “There ought to be plenty of room for it there. I mean, you don’t have much else in that cavern you call a skull.”

  “Ha, ha, very funny.” He rolled his eyes at me. “Maybe I choose not to study just so I have more room in my brain for Lissa Facts. Ever thought of that? I mean, knowing your favorite color and your lucky number is going to be way more useful to me than the periodic table or, you know, basic multiplication.”

  It surprised me he could actually think that it wasn’t useful. “Actually, basic multiplication is really important for daily life. It—”

  He groaned. “That was a joke, babe.”

  “Oh.” I shifted nervously and played with my hair a little, feeling embarrassed. It was sweet of him to come over, but having him drop in on me like this had thrown me off. I took a deep breath and told myself to chill out a bit, to loosen up. “Well, thank you. For the flowers.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I could tell by his grin and the sparkle in his eyes that he wanted me to come over to the bed with him, but I didn’t budge.

  With a sigh, he stood up and walked over to me. One of his hands moved to my hip while the other stroked black locks of hair away from my face. I forced myself to be still, not to shrug away like I did sometimes. There was no reason to be so uptight around him. I closed my eyes, trying to enjoy his touch.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have lied, but Shane and the others really rode my ass when I told them I wasn’t going to do it. I couldn’t get out of it without being humiliated. I really didn’t mean for that kid to hurt his knee, though. Seriously.”

  “I know.”

  For a minute I wondered if he’d been hazed by soccer players as a freshman. Randy was too proud to tell me if he had, but it was possible. In that case, I couldn’t really blame him for wanting some revenge of his own.

  “So we’re cool?” he asked, rubbing a thumb across my cheek.

  “Hmm.” I opened my eyes. “Maybe.”

  He smirked and leaned forward to kiss my lips, then my jaw, then my neck. I let out a little moan as his mouth traveled down my collarbone. My shoulders relaxed and my arms wrapped around him, my hands resting on his back.

  “Are your dad and Logan still awake?” Randy whispered after his lips had traveled back up to my ear. “Will you get in trouble for having me up here?”

  “No,” I said. “It’s Logan’s birthday. They went on a gambling boat for the night.”

  Randy pulled back, a frown spreading across his full lips. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have walked through the front door instead of climbing up to your window.”

  I ducked my head. “Well, you’re the one who wanted to prove you were sorry. I think climbing the drainpipe was the least you could do.”

  He looked a little pissed for a minute, but he got over it fast. “Okay, you’re probably right,” he said with a shrug and a tiny little smile. He leaned down and kissed me again.

  We stood there in front of my desk, kissing for a while. Both of his hands were on my waist, and my fingers were twisted into his hair. After a few minutes, he pulled away so we could catch our breath.

  “I love you,” he said, touching the tip of his nose to mine.

  “You, too.”

  He pressed his lips to mine again, kissing me for a long moment before easing back just slightly. “Babe,” he whispered against my mouth, “do you want to…?”

  My eyes opened, traveling momentarily to the bed before moving back to meet his gaze. He was waiting for me. Pleading with me. I kissed him again, relaxing against him, and pressed my hips a little closer to his.

  The quiet moments were the best. When our heartbeats had just started to slow down and the only sound was our breathing. It was the most intimate feeling in the world, letting someone hold me like that. Those were the moments when I was reminded just how much we loved each other, when I could finally let myself fully relax, when I thought that maybe Chloe was right and I could really open up to Randy about how I felt. Those were my favorite moments spent with him.

  “Okay. I’d better get going.”

  Well, those moments were great when they lasted more than five seconds.

  “What?”

  Randy disentangled himself from me and kicked off the comforter that was spread over us. I watched as he climbed off my bed and moved to button his jeans.

  “Where are you going?” I sat up and searched for my shirt in the sheets. Suddenly, I felt too exposed, too vulnerable.

  “Shane wants me to meet up with him in the old Fifth Street parking lot. Some soccer idiots wanna start shit with us because of that freshman who hurt himself. I think it’ll be a good fight.”

  “You’re ditching me to go fight with soccer players?” I asked. I yanked my T-shirt over my head and turned to stare at him. “I thought you were trying to prove that I came first.”

  “I did,” he said. “I came here first, didn’t I? I could’ve gone straight to the fight, but I came to see my girl.” He walked over to me and leaned down, kissing me on the cheek. “And we had a good time, right?”

  “No, you had a good—”

  “I’ll call you later,” he said. “I was here longer than I expected to be—not that I’m complaining, but Shane’s waiting on me. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

  He tried to kiss me again, but I jerked away.

  Randy sighed and shook his head. “Don’t be like this, Lissa,” he said, and then he turned and walked out of my bedroom.

  I started to go after him. I jumped out of bed, momentarily determined to give him a piece of my mind, but stopped in the doorway. I took a deep breath and forced it all back, forced myself to stay in control.

  But a minute later—as the front door slammed downstairs and the sound of Randy walking toward his car on the street corner wafted up through my window—I knew this was the last time I would be left behind for this war. I had to do something about it. Put a stop to the stupidity. Get Randy out of this trap he was in. For him. For both of us.

  And I knew just how to do it.

  chapter five

  The next morning, eleven of Hamilton High’s female students received an e-mail instructing them to meet in the library
during their lunch period. Nine of the girls were dating football players. One had slept with most of the team. And the eleventh girl, a junior named Ellen Brennan, was the longtime girlfriend of the captain of the soccer team… and she was also my ex–best friend.

  The e-mail directed each of the girls to take a seat at the round table in the back corner of the library, where they would be given details on a plan to end the fall sports rivalry that had plagued Hamilton High for far too long.

  And you know who sent that e-mail?

  Me.

  “I don’t see why you had to send me an e-mail,” Chloe said, leaning her seat back and propping her feet up on the table. She had on really cute white sandals, and her toenails were painted bright red. “You could have just called me.”

  I put a hand on the back of her chair and pushed it forward. Her feet slid off the table as she let the chair’s front legs hit the floor again. “I thought a group e-mail seemed more official,” I said. “And it’s so much more orderly.”

  “You’re so freaking neurotic.” Chloe ran her fingers through her brown corkscrew curls. I knew she hated them; they were apparently a pain in the ass to manage. But they just looked so adorable on her. “And I don’t get why you won’t tell me about this plan of yours.”

  “You’ll find out soon,” I told her, tapping my fingers on the table in front of me and checking the clock. “Where is everyone? Lunch started two minutes ago. It can’t just be us.”

  “Did you really expect everyone to show?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because everyone else has to hate this just as much as I do,” I said, crossing my arms. “I can’t be the only one sick of this stupid fight.”

  “I’m sure you’re not,” Chloe said. “But you’re the only one crazy and controlling enough to think you can do shit about it.”

  Just then, the library doors opened and a group of three girls walked in, all carrying sack lunches. It took them only a second to locate the table I’d specified in the e-mail, and they took their seats across from Chloe and me.

  “Hey, Lissa,” they each said in turn.

  I nodded in welcome.

  They ignored Chloe completely.

  She ignored them right back.

  “So what’s this about again?” Kelsey Foagler asked, twirling a strand of her blond hair around a long manicured finger.

  “I have a plan to end the rivalry,” I told her.

  “Oh, right. That’s adorable.” It was her MO to sound incredibly insincere.

  “Um, thanks?”

  The doors opened again and a few more girls trickled in with their lunches, taking the remaining places around the table. I smiled at Chloe, realizing that my plan might actually work. Only four more girls had to show up before I’d have everyone from the e-mail list. She just rolled her eyes at me.

  One by one, the last batch of girls came through the library doors.

  Ellen was the last to walk in, and I admit, I was shocked she’d decided to come. I’d added her to the e-mail list more on a hopeful whim than with actual faith that she’d show. We hadn’t spoken in a year, yet here she was, taking the seat beside me and giving me a smile like nothing had changed. But Ellen had always been a better, more forgiving person than I was.

  “Hey,” I said nervously. “Um, it’s nice to see you.”

  “You, too.”

  Across the table, Kelsey was giving her a less-than-welcoming stare, reserved especially for girlfriends of soccer players. I couldn’t help cringing. Tensions from the feud had seeped into the lives of the girls, too. That had been what pulled Ellen and me apart last year.

  The table was full of chatter. I cleared my throat a couple of times, trying to get their attention, but no one seemed to hear me.

  “Hey, bitches, shut up and let Lissa talk!” Chloe shouted, and everyone fell silent. Man, sometimes I wished I had her nerve. At least, I did until I noticed Mrs. Hillman, the librarian, shooting us a disapproving glare. Oops.

  I cleared my throat again. “Hi, everyone,” I began. “So I just wanted to talk to you all about the boys’ sports feud. I think it’s gotten way out of hand. People are getting hurt, and it’s been causing problems in my relationship. I’m sure you are all in similar situations.”

  “Yep,” Susan Port huffed. “After Luther’s tires were slashed last week, he completely skipped our date on my birthday so he could go have his ‘baby’ fixed.”

  “At least your boyfriend didn’t have a busted lip and black eye in your homecoming photos last year,” Kelsey grumbled.

  A general murmur of agreement bubbled around the table.

  “Exactly,” I said. “We’re all neglected during the autumn because of the rivalry. So, naturally, we should try to put a stop to it, right? Isn’t that what all of you want?”

  Another murmur of agreement.

  “That would be nice,” Kelsey said, “in theory. But in reality, what can we really do to end it? Nothing. Those oafs won’t stop clubbing one another on the heads until they graduate or go so brain-dead they forget who to hit.”

  “Shut up, Kelsey, and just give Lissa a chance,” Chloe snapped.

  Kelsey mocked surprise. “Oh my God, Chloe can speak? I thought her mouth only worked for sucking dicks. It’s a miracle.”

  “I’ll show you a miracle, you little—”

  I grabbed Chloe by her T-shirt and yanked her back down into her seat. “Both of you, please be civil,” I advised.

  Kelsey sat back down, growling to herself.

  “Anyway,” I said, “I have to disagree with Kelsey. I think I’ve finally figured out what we can do to end this once and for all.”

  “Nuke the locker room?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Can we just get the soccer program canceled?”

  “How would we do that?”

  “Give her a chance to explain,” Chloe said loudly just as a wave of anxiety washed over me. Too many voices talking over one another. She winked and nodded for me to continue. She knew me too well.

  “So you all want to stop the fighting,” I said. “That’s good. I’m glad we’re on the same page. The fact is that we’ve all tried everything we could think of on our own. We’ve begged, pleaded, and fought, and it hasn’t done a thing. We can’t control them. So the important thing here is to get control of the situation—we need power. And clearly, we haven’t been able to get that on our own. That’s why I called this meeting. Because together, I believe we can get power over at least one of the sides. And with that power, we can manipulate this war however we want.”

  “How many times did you rehearse this speech?” Kelsey asked.

  I ignored her, picking up my pen and twisting the cap back and forth under the table. No way was I telling her that I’d practiced this in front of the mirror… twice.

  “Okay, so the thing is to get control of our boys, and to do it all together, as a unified force,” I continued. “Because when it was just football versus soccer, it was a stalemate and a never-ending cycle. But add in an extra party—the girls—and it’s possible to totally upend the balance. Finding our leverage is the hard part, and like you, I didn’t think it was possible. I thought we were all just screwed. But last night, I figured it out. I know exactly how we can get control of the boys and end this war for good.”

  “Out with it already,” Chloe urged.

  I grinned. “It’s the one thing they could never say no to. The one thing they beg and plead and cajole for. Up until now, I didn’t realize we could use it to our advantage. But last night, I realized that it’s our best shot.” I paused, took a breath. “We go on… a sex strike!”

  And… silence.

  Dead silence.

  For at least forty-three seconds.

  As I might have predicted, Chloe was the first one to share her opinion, and in typical Chloe fashion, she shared loudly.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  The table rumbled with uneasy di
sapproval, triggered by Chloe’s protest. I took a deep breath, twisting the pen cap faster and faster. I had to pull them in. I had to get them back in my court—to show them that this was the best option.

  “Think about it,” I pressed, my voice raised. “Boys only want one thing. They’re all horndogs. If there’s anything we can use to get power, it’s sex. Specifically, denying it.”

  “You might be right,” Chloe said. “But you’re forgetting one key factor here. Won’t we be denying ourselves, too?”

  Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Jesus, Chloe. You’re such a whore.”

  “Fuck you,” Chloe snapped. “I know for a fact that you screwed Terry on your first date. Don’t act so high and mighty.”

  “Guys,” I said, a little panicked. “Fighting among ourselves won’t solve anything. We’re here to create peace, remember?”

  Kelsey shot Chloe one more evil glare before leaning back in her seat and folding her arms over her chest, her bottom lip poked out like a pouting five-year-old.

  “Look,” I said. “You all agreed you wanted to end this stupid war, right? And this is the way to do it. We make them want us, then refuse to give them what they want. Once they realize we’re not giving in, they’ll be like putty in our hands. And that’s when we spring this on them. They have to call off the rivalry before we’ll touch them. I bet they’ll cave within two weeks.”

  Somehow, I could feel Ellen’s eyes on me. I smiled, trying not to look uncomfortable.

  “Is that, you know, ethical?” Susan asked. “I want the rivalry to end and all, but sex as a weapon feels a little sketchy. I think there have been whole Dr. Phil episodes about it.”

  “Oh, come on,” Chloe said. “Every girl has a prerogative to say no. There’s no reason not to exercise that right… even in large groups. Besides, Dr. Phil’s a quack.”

  “Susan, you pay a freshman girl to do your English papers,” Kelsey said. “Are you really the one to question ethics?”

  “Hey, I’m busy. I have basketball practice. No time to read The Great Gatsby or whatever. Plus, I pay her. That makes it ethical.”

  “This is ethical,” I said, hoping to get them back on track. “We’re not really using sex as a weapon—we’re just choosing not to partake until the rivalry ends. We’re not manipulating them or anything. We’re… boycotting.”