Right Girl Wrong Timing (Offsides Book 3) Page 3

  She glances back and says, “As if I care.” Then she continues toward Mr. Briggs.

  “Well, this has been fun,” I say, and I unclip one policy paper and hand the rest to Austin. Then I go over to join Rachel to see what she’s doing.

  Once I reach her, my small spark of hope that this would somehow correct itself banishes. Rachel sags. “But Mr. Briggs, you don’t understand. This isn’t a challenge. It’s a life sentence.”

  “Miss Frost, are you here to question my authority as well?” Mr. Briggs asks as his stare lands on me.

  Rachel and I lock gazes, and then I look over at Mr. Briggs. “Yes,” I answer.

  “That’s a shame. I expected more from one of my model students,” he says.

  I expected more from our principal, but I’m not guilt shaming him. Instead, I decide to pull the same crap my parents pull on me. “Are we getting graded the same? As a whole, on film, all given tasks and doing them? If one person slacks off, our entire grade is affected?” I ask.

  He nods.

  “Then I need some changes. I can’t work with two people who are barely here in school. We’ll all get an F if we have to rely on them,” I state. Surely, he can understand my concern from that point.

  Mr. Briggs smiles. “And there lies the challenge, ladies. Each group has one person who has poor school attendance. Unfortunately, you were stuck with two, but the challenge is to work as a team. Get them involved. Your grades are counting on it.”

  Rachel huffs. “This is outrageous!” She turns on her heel and storms back to the group.

  “Principal Briggs, if no one has been able to keep them in school for the majority of the year, how do you expect us to do it?”

  He sighs. “Think outside the box. Everyone here has common ground. Find it. Use it.”

  I reluctantly return back to the group with that heap of crap advice. What could I possibly have in common with any of these people?

  Austin smiles. “How did it go?” he openly asks.

  “We’re completely screwed,” Rachel says then passes the card off to me.

  A whistle blows, and Mr. Briggs says, “All right groups, I’ll see you back here in six weeks. Off to lunch.”

  “We should all meet in the commons after school,” I say then make my way to the doors.

  As soon as I step out into the hallway, a breath that I have been holding expels from my lungs. From a person I never dreamt of agreeing with in my life, Rachel’s right, we’re screwed. There’s got to be a way to get out of this mess. Has to be. I’m going to find it.

  Chapter Seven

  Austin

  Etched on my brain is her look of utter disgust. I practically jumped for joy when Adaline and I got paired up together for this junior project. I don’t care much for the others that are in my group.

  Adaline looks like she swallowed a whole bowl of sour grapes as she passes me by me in the gym. I am about to stop her, but she’s moving fast, which means she’s not in the mood to talk.

  Tyler bellows from behind me, “Reed! Wait up.”

  I turn, and he is pulling Layla with him. “Who did you get stuck with?” he asks when he catches up to me.

  “Adaline, Rachel, Zander, and Lucas. Who’s in your group?”

  Tyler grins while we walk down the hall. “This one here, Emily, Chase, and Trent.”

  Layla groans, “I wish we could trade Emily off. She’s never here. And Trent with his dirty jokes, he needs to go too.”

  “Babe, I told you if he bothers you, let me know,” Tyler says.

  I play football with Trent, and I have a few classes with him. He really is a jackass. “On the bright side, Trent will at least work.” Rachel won’t lift a finger. She’ll throw money at it, and that’s all she’ll do. I can’t complain about that because we’ll need funds.

  “He’ll do anything to show off,” Tyler grumbles.

  “What do you mean?” Layla asks.

  “He’ll do as much shit as he can shirtless. I swear the dude has issues. He’s obsessed with flexing,” I say with a laugh.

  Layla sneers, but Tyler cracks a smile. “He probably measures his arms every night,” Tyler says.

  “Guys don’t do that,” Layla states.

  “Um, Trent most likely does,” I say.

  “Probably kisses his arms and has special names for them. Trenty right, Trenty left,” Tyler says while mimicking kisses to his flexed arms.

  I crack up. Layla shakes her head with a smirk. “You’re awful,” she says to him.

  He kisses her mouth. “And you love it.”

  “I do,” she says.

  “And that’s my signal to leave,” I say. I walk the remainder of the way by myself.

  Just before school ends, I get a text message from Adaline saying to meet in the commons after the final bell. I make my way to the commons and sit at a table near the front.

  One of my basketball teammates, Brock Simpson, heads toward me. He takes a seat at one of the empty chairs and says, “S’up man?”

  “Nothing.” I give him a shoulder slap, and we pound fists. “How’s baseball?”

  Brock is not only our outstanding point guard, he’s also our best shortstop on the baseball team.

  He shrugs. “Okay. The team is going through a process. Most of our best players were seniors.”

  “Sucks. It’s like sophomore year of basketball, huh?”

  He nods. “We’re going to be lucky to win five games.”

  I make a sour face. “Ooooh, that does suck.”

  It’s like my body is on GPS vibe, and I sense her before I see her. Adaline enters the commons, and Brock is talking about something, but I’m no longer listening to him. “Hey, Brock, scoot your ass down one,” I say.

  He lifts his head and gawks around. “Grab another chair, and pull it up for her,” he says.

  Slick move. I’ll take it. “You still gotta move down. I want her close, man, not really you in my lap.”

  He laughs as he slides his chair down, making room for me to pull another chair for Adaline in its place. I steal one from the table next to me. I hope to hell she’s coming over here, otherwise I’ll feel stupid.

  She reaches the table and mumbles. “Got a minute before everyone else arrives?”

  I pat the empty chair next to me. “Sure.”

  “I don’t think I should sit there.”

  I frown. “Ads, please take the seat.”

  She rolls her eyes. “All right. Only if you stop pouting.”

  Brock barks out a laugh as she plops down next to me. I grip the edge of her chair and pull her close to me. Our legs touch, and her eyes widen. “That’s better. You were too far away, and you know how crappy my attention is.”

  She looks as if she’s half tempted to slap me. I wouldn’t blame her. “You’re impossible. You know that?” Irritation laces her words. “I was thinking since we must work together, we should get one thing straight. This will not be a repeat of our history project.”

  Wow. She’s really scorned. I mean, I got she was mad at me but damn. She knows how to kick a dude while he’s down. “How many times do I have to apologize to you?” I whisper.

  “I’ll catch you later, man,” Brock says, and he leaves.

  I wait until he’s gone before I clasp Adaline’s chin and direct her attention to me. Her eyes narrow. “Don’t. Can we forget about it and just move on?”

  I lean toward Adaline. Her breath hitches slightly. I dip my mouth close to Adaline’s ear and whisper, “We’re not done discussing this. Far from it.”

  She pulls away from me and shoots me a glare. “We are.”

  I’m about to argue, but the others show up. This girl is going to ruin me.

  Chapter Eight

  Adaline

  I take a deep breath as soon as I back away from Austin. I knew I shouldn’t have sat beside him. I should have pulled another chair up to the table. Distancing myself from him would have been a way smarter move, but I let my stupid heart take the lead.
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  Zander is still MIA, so I use this as an excuse to move to the empty seat Brock gave up. It’s not nearly enough space between Austin and me, but it’s enough to help clear my already fuzzy thoughts.

  “Sometime today, Frosty Queen. I have a tanning appointment to keep. Not all of us want to look like paste at prom,” Rachel says.

  I hate the nickname. Always hated it, if I’m honest, and I know who’s to blame for the name in the first place. He’s practically sitting beside me. I sneer at Austin and then sigh at Rachel. “Just tell me what you would like to do, and you can leave. I figured if we all had jobs, it would be a lot easier and we can get this done faster.”

  Rachel laughs and points at Austin. “I called this, didn’t I? Read my lips, Frosty. You aren’t running this show. So stop giving us orders, and do me a fat favor and lose my number.”

  The small amount of patience I have left shrivels away, and I slap my notebook against the table. “Listen to me, Rachel! I am not in the mood for your shit! If you want to run this show, fine by me. Seeing as you are so overwhelmed with your hair, nail, tanning, and whatever other self-absorbed appointments you have, I figured you were too damn busy to lead and command a project.”

  Rachel leans across the table like she’s going to crawl over it to reach me. “Soak it all in, Frost. See my face? It’s perfect. My body is the same. I’ve got curves in all the right places. You, on the other hand, are a stick with pimples on her forehead. If I were you, I’d focus on ways to improve myself instead of flaunting your bitchiness to everyone else.”

  I roll my eyes so hard I practically have a headache.

  “Lay off, Rachel! Ads is taking the leadership reins. You’re busy being you. I’ve got work.” Austin slaps a sleeping Lucas’s back and says, “And Luke, my man, loves naps. So, please continue, Ads.”

  My heart flutters. I can’t fall for this again. It’s an act. That cute smile, the wink, even the way he’s sticking up for me is all an act. God, he’s good.

  “I just think we need some structure,” I say in a low voice. I don’t know why I suddenly feel small and meek. Probably has something to do with Austin’s stare on me. Whatever the cause, I don’t like it. I clear my throat. “I also think it would be easier if people picked things they were good at doing.”

  “Fine. I’ll do any kind of things involving getting materials,” Rachel says.

  Lucas raises his head with his chin resting on his folded hands on the table. “Zander might not be here, but we can do any sort of marketing, or like, video stuff.”

  I nod. “Great. So Rachel is on supplies, you and Zander are in charge of filming and editing,” I say as I jot down names to assignments.

  “That leaves design and construction to us,” Austin says.

  I glance over at him and notice his cocky smirk. What in the hell did I just get myself into?

  “Adaline, will you slow down?” Austin shouts at me as I rush through the parking lot searching for my mom. She most likely forgot to pick me up again.

  “I got to go.”

  “Yeah, who’s taking you?” He asks as he catches up to me.

  I look up at the blue sky and sigh. “My mom. Well, she’s supposed to be here. I think she got tied up at work again.” Which is the excuse of the hour. I love my mom. I do. But she is super forgetful. I think she does it on purpose because I refuse to get my license. Can you blame me? I don’t want to be caught dead driving under my legal name. And I’ve never told anyone this, but I’m terrified to get behind the wheel of a car. My cousin said she almost took out a mailbox while avoiding a runaway cow. A cow! Sure, I don’t live near farms like her, but it was enough to freak me out.

  “Hey. Did you hear me?” Austin asks.

  “I told you my mom was coming.”

  He shakes his head. “And I told you to call her and let her know you found a ride. I’m not leaving here knowing you might be stranded at school.” He leads me to a rust bucket on wheels. This is not the car he had last year.

  “What happened to your Mustang?”

  He winces as he opens the passenger door for me. The outside of this thing looks like it’s about to fall apart any second. The inside, though, is spotless. I pull out my phone from my backpack and sit in his car.

  “Had to sell it. The payments were too high. It’s fine,” Austin mumbles and shuts the door.

  He says it like it’s fine, but his body language is saying something different. He’s upset, and obviously this is a sore subject for him. I call my mom, and it goes straight to voicemail. Yep, she’s busy. “Hey, Mom, I just wanted to let you know I got a ride. I’ll be home soon.”

  Austin slips behind the steering wheel and says, “Did you reach her?”

  “Yep.”

  I try not to notice his movements, but I can’t help it. I watch him place the keys into the ignition, and before he turns it he sighs, “What? I know you’re dying to say something.”

  “I wasn’t planning on saying anything. I’m glad your mom isn’t paying for the car.” It was a rude remark, and it should never have come out of my mouth. But I’m upset. Not really at him but everything. My mom can’t bother to remember to come get me, yet is on my case every stinking day about picking a college. My father is always away on business trips, or he’s home and silent. Literally says nothing at dinner, or to me. Just a simple hug and “How are you doing sweetie?” That’s it.

  Apparently, my words were more than uncalled for because Austin rears his glare at me. His nostrils flare. “You think my mom was paying for my shit? A spoiled little brat like you would think something like this.” I flinch. “Newsflash, Adaline, not everyone relies on their mom and dad to buy the things they want.”

  The sting of his words fuels my own anger. “I don’t rely on my parents.” I fold my arms and give him a glare right back.

  “Really? Who bought your shoes?”

  I glance down at my sneakers and then back up at him. “That’s different. It’s a part of school clothes shopping.”

  He laughs. Not in a funny sort of way. More like he’s so mad right this second, he’s trying to laugh this away. It’s one of his traits I’ve grown up around. So I know the difference. “It’s actually not. I bought these shoes, this shirt, and everything else I have. So you can stop pretending you know everything about me or my life.” He turns away from me and starts the engine. I should get out before he puts it in gear. I don’t.

  When we’re halfway to my house, I clear my throat. “Austin, I’m sorry. Thank you for taking me home.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he grumbles.

  Could this car ride be any worse? Yes. My heart is still fluttering in my chest, and the flittering of butterflies swirl in the pit of my stomach. Thank you, lusty emotions.

  Chapter Nine

  Austin

  Man, she knows how to aim for the kill shot every single time. When we paired up for our history assignment, Adaline was quick to throw bits of our past into my face. At first, I didn’t care. I shrugged it off because I was still into Rachel. Then shit changed. Real quick. Like one minute I’m into Rachel and the next I was thinking about Adaline’s lips.

  It took a while to see a soft side of Adaline, but when I did, I never wanted anything else but that from her. But hard-ass Adaline is all I’m getting now. I deserve it. I know I hurt her. She felt like I rejected her. It’s like she wants to see me suffer, though, and I won’t stand for it. I’ve lost enough.

  I pull up to her mini-mansion of a house in the nicest section of town. I’m not jealous; I’m mad. Mad that she has the nerve to look at me like I’m some freaking gold-digging mooch. Mad that she is lapping up luxury in a safe place while I hear gunshots going off at two a.m. Then sirens, but no one does anything, almost like that’s normal. Then she wants to sit there and say how she and I are the same. Like she doesn’t rely on her parents for anything. I know darn well she has a college fund. She doesn’t have to worry about where she’s going because it’s paid for. She could
go off and see Europe if she wanted to and still go to college. I know all this because her parents belong to the same damn club where my mom used to belong.

  I throw my car into park and get out.

  Adaline throws her door open before I reach it, and that sets me off. “You couldn’t wait?” I snap.

  “Wait? I can open my own door. You don’t need to pretend you’re Prince Charming. It’s me, remember. I’m not some random girl you need to impress with your chivalrous ways.”

  I tighten my hands into balls and squeeze. I think blood flow might be restricted. “I’m not trying to impress you with manners.” I close my eyes for a second then look at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow or whatever.”

  She gives me a smug look. “Whatever? Pfft. You’re such a robot. Are you going to go back to being too cool to talk to me?”

  “Jesus! That’s it! It was freaking middle school, Adaline! People do a lot of stupid shit in middle school. Like Mark, Tyler, and I dyed our freaking hair blond and it came out orange for football season. Or Tyler shaving off my eyebrows as a prank for being the first to pass out at his eighth-grade party. Don’t start throwing the past in my face.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t give a crap what Tyler or Mark or any of you did. Once this project is over, we can go back to ignoring each other. You are the popular athletic star, and I’m the nerdy girl who has now one friend.”

  I frown. “Bromwell still hasn’t talked to you?”

  “See? That right there. Stop it. Stop acting like you care, when we both know the second this is over and you got your grade you’ll run right back to Rachel or someone just like her.”

  I cover my face with my hands, then drop them and yell, “Argggh! I only took Rachel to keep an eye on you and Greg!” I take a step toward her and lower my voice. “I left her there because of you. But none of it matters because you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. I could tell you all this until I turn purple, and you still will think of something else.” Her mouth hangs open, and I lean in and peck her cheek. “I ask you things because I care.”