Henry, the team captain, shook his head like a parent overseeing a child who had clearly made a mistake. “I told you that you shouldn’t have plastic-wrapped her Miata. The girl has it out for you.”
Jasper strode over to get a better look at my locker. “Does she have it out for you or have it bad for you? I mean, she wants your clothes, dude. Probably going to make a shrine with them.”
“Definitelyoutfor me.” I knew when a girl liked me. They got all chatty and smiled and complimented me. Halfwaythrough junior year, for no good reason, Madeline made a compilation video of every bad throw, move, or tackle in my high school games. It went viral, at least at our school.
In return, I left raw chicken in her locker over Christmas break. After we returned to school, the stench was so awful that for days, students steered clear of the hallway where her locker was. Since then, it’s been one thing or another between us.
I shoved the clown outfit back into my locker. I’d find a use for it. On some dark night when she was alone, it would appear, stuffed and wearing a hockey mask, waiting in her stupid little convertible.
“I need my clothes back.” I didn’t have time to hunt for them after school. Henry always gave me a ride to my house after practice. I only had a few minutes to change into my work clothes and ride my bike to the drugstore for my shift.
I slammed my locker shut. “She better not even think about keeping them.”
Those jeans hadn’t been cheap. I’d bought them in one of my attempts to fit in at a school where everybody wore name brands. That was the downside of getting a boundary exception. I’d become the poor kid at the rich school, the one from a broken home. People didn’t realize how tight things had gotten at my house.
I took a deep, calming breath. “So help me, Madeline better give me back my clothes before school ends.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Jasper asked.
I slammed the locker door shut. “She won’t find her car.”
Keoni pulled his shirt over his head. “Dude, you know how to hot-wire cars? Why didn’t you tell us this before?”
“I don’t need to hot-wire it,” I said, “because I have friends who can move a Miata.”
3
Madeline
When fifth period ended, I kept an eye out for Cooper while I made my way to drama class. I wanted to see if he was skulking through the halls in his PE uniform.
He probably wouldn’t be. He probably had one of his groupie girls drive to his house and pick up extra clothes. He was between girlfriends right now, so the single hopefuls were lining up to be noticed.
A lot of girls at SCH had crushes on Cooper. Granted, the guy was handsome in a brooding, bad boy sort of way. He had a nice jawline; I’d give him that. But his brown hair, somewhere between wavy and curly, was too long and looked messy half the time. Some girls went on and on about how pretty his blue eyes were. Complete hype. They were average blue eyes. And the scruff on his chin—it wasn’t sexy. It was proof the guy was too lazy to shave.
I usually went for the smart guys, the preppy ones who were clean-cut and already working on their college applications. The best boyfriend was the type who was intelligent enough to carry on a conversation and could help me with my math homework, which, let’s face it, I always needed.
Cooper had been in my biology class last year. Not only did he not pay attention, he fell asleep more than once. The teacher never bothered to wake him up and passed him withflying colors anyway. In a school that prided itself on its football team, none of the teachers would dare put the team at risk by giving the star quarterback a bad grade.
As I made my way to drama class, I saw no sign of Cooper in the hallways—at least not until I reached the theater. Cooper, dressed in his PE clothes, was leaning against the wall by the door, arms folded and posture rigid. He could have been waiting for Claire, his younger sister who also took the class, but I knew he was waiting for me. He had a death glare aimed in my direction.
“You,” he said.
Well, this was a new development. We’d never confronted each other about any of the other pranks.
“Hi, Cooper,” I said in an airy manner. “What brings you here? Sudden interest in drama?”
He pushed away from the wall and stalked over. “Only the drama you keep causing. What’s with you? Doesn’t Daddy give you enough attention at home, so you have to get it here too? Or are you just a really big fan of mine and want my stuff?”
He said the last sentence extra loud, and everyone near us in the hallway turned to stare at me.
I felt my cheeks blushing. A good actress shouldn’t blush when she doesn’t want to. “Nope. That’s definitely not it.”
He held out a hand to me. “Give me my clothes back. Now.”
They were safely tucked away in my locker. “I’m sure they’llturn up somewhere. Eventually. Check eBay every once in a while.”
He took a step closer in a clear attempt to violate my personal space and intimidate me with his football physique. “Look, if you want your Hello Kitty convertible back, you’re going to return my clothes right now.”
