Wallflower by Cookie O'Gorman (first color ebook reader .TXT) 📗

"I don't go to them."  I shrugged.  "Never really liked soccer."

They all gaped at me.

"You don't like soccer…and your dad is the head coach?" she asked.

"He's more than that," Dare put in.  "Becks Kent is a legend and not just by North Carolina standards.  He went pro right out of college.  He was brilliant, one of the best players ever."  Shooting me a look, he added, "How can you not like soccer?"

"Sports aren't really my thing," I said.

Estelle shook her head.  "No, no, Viola, this can't be right.  You have to come to the games, sweetie.  It's just bad juju if you don't."

Dare smirked.  "I'd have to agree."

Jovonte nodded.  "You should come see us play.  Our team is killer—especially my man, Dare, here."

The three of them looked to me.

"I'll think about it," I said just to appease them.  One of the main reasons I didn't like going to Dad's games was because it always reminded me of how dissimilar we were, and that no matter how much he loved me, I knew it had to be disappointing.  I didn't inherit one shred of his athletic ability, unlike the guys on his team, and I wasn't a social butterfly like him either.  The other semi-embarrassing reason was that I never had anyone to sit with.  It may have sounded silly.  But the truth was…it was hard being the only person alone in a crowd.  Luckily, Mr. Carville pulled our attention back to the assignment, and they let the subject drop.

In the hall between classes, Dare always seemed to find me and do that chin lift guys do, saying "hey" or "what's up, Vi?" as he walked past.  It was surreal.

But it wasn't just him who found me in the halls.

A few members of the football team had decided that it was time to resume their immature ritual.  I was walking to my last class, coming from the band room after my private music lesson, when Penn Cavendish, Rex Turley and Jimmy Valdez made their presence known.

"Do you guys smell that?" Penn asked.  He was their leader, the kicker of our lackluster football team, and he'd also been Whitney's on-again, off-again boyfriend since freshman year.  "Man, it wreaks all of a sudden."

"Oh yeah," Rex laughed.  "I smell it."

"Huh?" Jimmy said.  "What are you guys talking about?  I don't smell anything."

Penn sniffed long and loud as I rolled my eyes and kept walking.  "Oh, I know.  It's the stink of wet animal.  Looks like you're still as gross as ever, Dog Girl," he said, sidling up beside me.  "Maybe you should wash a little harder, get rid of that disgusting stench."

"Maybe you should grow up and stop being such a creep," I muttered, but it did no good.

The barks followed me all the way to seventh period.  Thank goodness, I didn't have it with those idiots, I thought.  Study Hall was basically just a free period, but it was also one of my favorites.  Some quiet alone time at the library was just what I needed after that encounter.

Unfortunately, not five minutes after I sat down, Dare settled himself into the seat next to me.

"Hey," he said as he pulled his notebook and phone from his bag.  "Fancy meeting you here."

I crossed my arms and stared until he finally looked up.

"Did you hit your head or something?" I asked.

Dare frowned.  "What?"

"It's a serious question," I said, eyeing him suspiciously.  "You've been acting very OOC, being way too nice."

He chuckled.  "No one's ever accused me of being nice before."

"I know!" I said.  "It's totally unlike you."

"What am I like then, flower?"

Cocky, arrogant, intimidating, self-assured, unattainable.

Instead of answering, I said, "Aren't you nervous this will damage your rep?  Being seen with me?"

"I could give a damn about my rep, Vi."

I shot him a look of disbelief, replaying what had gone down in the hall, the nickname Penn and his cronies had saddled me with simply because of some stupid picture Whitney posted years ago.  "But you're popular.  And I'm…not."  The words Dog Girl flashed through my mind.  "Don't you care what people think?"

"Hmm, let's see."  Dare pretended to be deep in thought for a moment then said, "Nope.  I don't.  Now can you keep it down?  I'm trying to study here."

"But—"

Mrs. Reynolds, the librarian, shushed me, and my mouth immediately snapped shut.  Looking from her to Dare, I couldn't believe it.  This was the first time any teacher had ever reprimanded me.  And it was all because of him and his odd behavior.  As I watched Dare grin out of the corner of my eye, I just couldn't shake the feeling that something was up.

The rest of the week was more of the same.

I drove Dare to school each day.  He sat with me at lunch (which meant Tyson along with a whole bunch of Dare's friends/followers were there as well), worked with me on the Lit project (along with Jovonte and Estelle, who was growing on me), continued to sit with me during study hall, though I blatantly refused to speak to him just to see if he'd back off.

He didn't.

Everything changed on Friday.  It started as I was leaving my locker about to head to my first class.

"Hey Vi, wait up," Dare called out.

I froze as he strode toward me.  Did he have to say that so loud?  Like I said, I was not a fan of attention, but here he was pulling all eyes to the two of us again.  When he was about a foot away, Dare stopped and put his hands on his hips.

"Where's my treat?" he said.  "You were in such a hurry you forgot to give it to me this morning."

I had.  We'd been running a bit later than usual because my