The truth is I know Lacey's sudden interest in me wasn't random. Popular girls like to keep girls that are consideredprettyas close as possible. I would be an ally instead of competition. That, coupled with the fact that I'm best friends with Cam and the other desirable guys in our grade, made a friendship with me appealing, and inducting me into her clique would be mutually beneficial. Lacey has a not-so-secret crush on Cam, and though Cam has hooked up with her twice, he isn't a relationship kind of guy. Lacey is just one of many to him. As many as there are in Linton anyway. And fortunately, it's common knowledge that my friendship with Cam is one hundred percent platonic, otherwise, Lacey may have chosen me as a target instead of an ally.
But it doesn't really matter to me. So what if she's basically using me? I'm doing the same to fulfill my curiosity about what it would be like to have girl friends, and so far it's going great.
We hung out a lot over the summer, and though I still spend a lot of my time with Cam and the guys, I've become pretty tight with Lacey and the girls, too.
Now that the first week of junior year is over, Lacey is having the girls over to celebrate. It's the first time I'm sleeping over her house, but she's not the reason I'm excited.
Lacey's older brother is a senior. Not just a senior, butthesenior. Quarterback of the football team, the town's golden boy - stunningly handsome, and popular. For years I've admired him from afar - from the bleachers at his football games, from the lifeguard chair at the pool - but since I've befriended Lacey, I've had opportunity to admire him from a little closer. Though he wasn't around the house much when I was over at Lacey's this summer - too popular with far too full a social calendar - tonight I know I'll get a glimpse. He can't stay away from his own house all night.
My dad drops me off around dinner time. He couldn't be more pleased with my new friendship. He and Mayor Forbes golf every Sunday, and not only have they been friends since childhood, but with my dad being the town's district attorney, they have professional dealings as well. No doubt our families would have spent a lot of time together if my mother could stand Lacey's.
Cindy Forbes is everything my mother can't stand about small southern towns. Self-important, self-absorbed, and status obsessed. Her haughty attitude irked my mother at their first meeting almost twenty years ago and my mother has been making excuses to avoid associating with her ever since.
Even after all this time my mother is still a fish out of water here in Linton, but she's refused to adapt, forcing her gills to process oxygen instead of growing a pair of lungs. She grew up on Long Island and met my father at NYU when she was an undergrad and he was in law school. They fell instantly in love, so the story goes, and when they each graduated, my mother agreed to accompany my father back to his hometown where they got married and she attended law school at the University of Florida in Gainesville. She practices as a public defender and mostly volunteers her services, much to my father's chagrin, being the DA and all. But whenever my dad tries to pressure my mom to do anything she doesn't agree with, she reminds him that she'd made the ultimate sacrifice: giving up New York for Linton.
Linton is all I've ever known, so though I keep my opinion to myself - not that anyone's ever asked me - I'm stuck somewhere between understanding Mom's disdain for the frivolity of what our community considers important - social statuses, golf and football - and my father's desire to play the game. After all, what's so wrong with wanting to be popular? With wanting friends?
"Have fun, Sleepin' Beauty," my dad says as I climb out of the passenger seat with a wave. He calls me that when he's pleased with me, andAurorawhen he's not. NeverRory. My parents couldn't agree on a name when I was born, and it'd been three days before the maternity nurse mentioned something about how I was the best sleeper in the nursery, and my father took to calling me Sleeping Beauty. That's how they decided to name me after the fairy tale princess.
Dad drives off before I'm halfway up the Forbes' flagstone walkway. Our house isn't exactly small, but the Forbes' Greek revival is positively enormous, with forest green storm shutters and a wraparound porch accented with dramatic palatial columns. The lawns are immaculately manicured,as are the rose bushes that line the walkway. It isn't just a house, it's a statement.We are better than you are.And I suppose it's not untrue. A mayor, his perfect blond botoxed wife, a football star, and Little Miss Popular.Some family. Mayor Forbes must be proud.
It's no secret my dad had wanted a son. Instead he got Sleeping Beauty. Mom couldn't have any more kids - something about scar tissue from the C section that brought me into this world, and though he'd never say so, I know my dad resents me not only for being a girl, but for ruining his chance at fathering any future sons. When I was younger I was as much a son as any girl could be, but the older I got, the further my father and I grew apart . It was easy enough to please him when all I wanted to do was to throw a baseball around the yard with him and Cam, but now... he barely even looks at me.
Only when I mention something about spending time with Lacey does he even ask about my day, about my life. He's always asking Mayor Forbes - orBobbyas Dad calls him - abouthisson. He goes to the football games - everyone in town does - and cheers for the quarterback as if he were his own. And Mayor Forbes is all too happy to share the glory. So when I asked my dad for a ride here for the sleepover since my jeep is being serviced, he spoke to me for the first time all week. Idly I wonder who golden-boy quarterback Robin Forbes' biggest fan is - his dad, or mine. Or maybe me. And every other girl in town.
I'm only a few steps from the front door when a deep, masculine voice skates over to my spot on the porch. I pause and peek sideways as Robin comes jogging around from the side door.
"Dude I'm on my way, chill out. She'll wait on me, don't you worry," he says cockily into his cell phone, and I silently agree that whomeversheis will certainly wait on him.I sure would.
He notices my presence and changes directions, and my heart takes off down a runway ready for flight as my body freezes in place.
"I'll call you back, bro," Robin murmurs, slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans, and slows to a stop a few feet in front of me.
I swallow nervously as his gaze slowly and purposefully trails me from head to toe and back again as if my cutoff shorts and tank top are something special.
"Rory." My name slides off his tongue like he's said it a thousand times, his mouth spreading into a grin, inexplicably pleased.
My breath catches in the net of surprise lodged about halfway down my throat."H- Hi," I stutter like an inexperienced little girl rendered dumb by a cute boy. Which, of course, I am.
"You sure look nice," Robin drawls like the southern gentleman he's been raised to be, and I blush scarlet. He's looking at me expectantly, and I realize he might be wondering what the hell I'm doing at his house.
"I... I'm here for Lacey," I mutter hastily.
"Well that's disappointin', but I figured as much. Didn't realize you girls had gotten so close."
I shrug.Wait... did he just say he was disappointed that I was here for Lacey?"Um, yeah, I guess. She's just havin' a bunch of us over," I explain.
"Well I knew that, but I didn't know the guest list extended to the prettiest girl in school. I mighta cancelled my plans," he winks, exaggerating his southern accent in a way I've overheard him do when he was flirting with girls like Maddie Stern. Pretty girls. Popular girls.
Holy shit. Is Robin Forbes actually flirting with me?
Embarrassingly, it takes me a second to even realize he means me, which he notices. He smirks when I blush again, and I look down, away from his hazel eyes positively gleaming with mirth. He's flirting with me, but I have no idea how to flirt. I've spent my whole life with boys and no one's ever flirted with me. Maybe if Robin wasn't so handsome, his boyish good looks beyond distracting, I'd be able to come up with some witty response.
"I am not," I say instead, meaning to call him on his bullshit, but sounding more like I'm back in elementary school.
I gasp when his toned arm reaches out, and he pushes a wayward strand of hair out of my eyes, tucking it carefully behind my ear.
"Oh, but you are, Miss Rory Pine. And everyone knows it. In fact, my boys and I were just talkin' about it after practice yesterday. Pissed off my best wide receiver some, too," he half-smirks. His best wide receiver is Cam, and if Cam got pissed off, then whatever was said wasn't exactly innocent. "Now, he tells me you're just his friend, but that doesn't ring true to me."
