“Ladies,” Finn says, his voice different. He’s softened it with charm. It’s like he’s really sayingI’m messy and poor, but I’m a hell of a lot of fun.
“Hi.” I wave at the two girls who have not yet said hi to me. Though that’s not to say they aren’t paying attention to me. Their narrowed eyes haven’t left the spot where Brady’s body touches mine. “We go to Agua Mesa,” I explain, because I don’t know what else to say and it’s awkward.
“We know you don’t go to Trinity,” one of the girls (Veronica? Angelina?) says with a smile. The insult is covert, but still cutting.
Finn, sensing my unease, offers to get drinks.
“Do you need refills?” he asks the mean girls. They nod and smile coquettishly, blinking their long, fake eyelashes.
“Shoot me,” I whisper to Finn, accompanying him to the keg.
“Now don’t you wish you were in your room fucking me instead of being here?”
I frown and whack his arm.
He laughs and takes four red plastic cups from the stack. As I watch, he pumps the keg and fills each cup, tipping them sideways to avoid excess foam.
“The foam is called head,” Finn tells me, winking.
“Oh my fucking gosh, Finn. Seriously?”
“What? It is.”
I shake my head, and, holding two beers, follow him back to where the mean girls stand with Brady. Except now three more blonde girls have joined them. They all wear too much makeup, and their designer purses swing under their arms.Look, it’s a matching set of people.
Brady’s telling the girls about a recent away game, one where he scored not one, but two home runs. The girls stare at him raptly, but I’d bet the last few dollars I have that each of them are thinking about something else.
He finishes his story, and all eyes fall to me and Finn, the interlopers.
Finn hands the two beers he’s holding to Veronica and Angelina, then takes one out of my hands.
Brady introduces us to the new girls, but honestly, I’m not listening to their names. My focus is on reconciling Brady my friend with Brady the beloved Trinity Prep baseball player.
Someone calls Brady’s name, and he turns, looking. His eyes light up in recognition, and he walks away, meeting the person halfway. This guy could be Brady’s twin. He’s dressed in the same khakis and polo, collar popped. When they reach each other, they do some handshake that consists of three parts. Brady looks back, catching my eye, giving me a look as if to say,Don’t tell them, okay? Don’t tell them this is all an act. The real me likes watching you make silver dollar chocolate chip pancakes, and when Finn tosses them in the air and tries to catch them in his mouth.
I smile, silently agreeing to go along with this charade. Beside me, Finn drains his beer, and reaches for mine. He drinks the rest of mine in two gulps, then goes back to the keg for a refill.
Before I’m forced to make conversation with the girls who are huddled in a group but keep glancing my direction, Brady and his friend rejoin me. Brady’s shoulders are bunched, like he’s nervous. He introduces his friend, Austin.
Austin extends a hand, smiling brightly when I shake it. “Where has Brady been hiding you?”
“In a suitcase in his room,” I answer.
Austin’s mouth falls open in surprise, then he tips his head back and laughs.
Brady laughs too, and some of the tension in his shoulders melts away. Perhaps his two worlds can come together cleanly.
“She goes to Agua Mesa,” one of the girls speaks up. The huddle has opened and spread out, so that now the girls stand on either side of Austin.
Austin winks at me. “You have me wishing I went to Agua Mesa.”
A blush heats my cheeks. I’m not used to such blatant flirting. Guys at my school don’t come within five feet of me. They’re all scared of Finn.
Brady rolls his eyes playfully, but the corners of his lips don’t turn up in the slightest.
“Brady!”
This time it’s Finn’s voice. I look over and see Finn in the air, one guy trying to hold onto each foot.
