Part 6 (1/2)
He stood at the end of the driveway for a moment, mesmerized by her agility and strength. Her arms stretched above her head as she aimed again. There was a tiny flash of flesh between her s.h.i.+rt and her shorts, and it was more desirable than any of the full-frontal nudity sims Tank had shown him. The fabric of her shorts pulled tight across her b.u.t.t and Chris gulped. As she took her shot, effortlessly hopping on one foot and watching the ball swish through the hoop, he fought the urge to clap. Impressive. He barely managed to score in the sim.
The ball rolled down the driveway and she turned to chase it. Stopped as her eyes fell on him. He grabbed the ball before it could roll into the street.
”What do you want?” Her voice was cold.
He was taken aback. ”I thought... you said... we were going to ask your dad...” Had he misheard? Had she changed her mind? Disappointment washed over him. Had he made a bigger fool of himself than ever?
”Oh.” Some flicker of recognition lit her eyes. He squinted at her, noticing for the first time that her cheeks were blotchy. Her eyes were bloodshot. She'd been crying!
How dare someone make his G.o.ddess cry? A wave of protectiveness mixed with anger washed over him, and he wished more than anything he could just walk up and hug her, then fix whatever was wrong, no matter what it was. Of course she'd probably rather hug a muddy pig, so he decided against following through.
”That's right,” she said, rubbing a hand against her cheek. ”Sorry. I forgot.”
”What happened?” he asked, walking up and handing her the basketball. He might not be allowed to touch her, but he could still sympathize. ”You okay?”
”I'm fine,” she said. The words were too quick to be believable. She grabbed the ball. ”Listen, do you think you could come back tomorrow or something? This isn't a good time for me.”
What was the deal? Had she learned something more about Mrs. McCormick? But no, she barely knew the woman and would simply tell him. It had to be something bigger, something more personal, something that had nothing to do with him. Had someone she knew died? Had she gotten in trouble with her parents? Failed a test in school? What? It was driving him crazy, and she obviously wasn't going to tell him.
Why should she tell you? a voice inside his head jeered. After all, Peyton had no reason to love him like he loved her. He was a loser. A n.o.body. h.e.l.l, he was lucky she'd even let him set foot on her driveway.
Still, now that she had, he wasn't about to let her off the hook. He took the ball back and dribbled it a few times, prepared for a shot. It felt heavy in his hands, very different than the virtual ball they played with in Basketball Dayz. Holding it over his head, he threw it in the direction of the hoop. It hit the backboard and bounced away. ”d.a.m.n.” He raced after the ball. ”I suck as bad in real life as I do in the sim.” Grabbing it and bouncing it back to the center of the driveway, he gave her an apologetic grin.
”Sim basketball's for tech-heads.” Peyton scoffed, grabbing the ball away and laying it up into the hoop. She was good. And so hot. As the ball bounced back to her, she pa.s.sed it. Chris caught it and shot again. This time it bounced off the rim.
”Closer,” she said, half-smiling. She caught the ball and bounced it to him. ”Try again.”
He caught the ball and looked up at the hoop. Concentrating this time, he aimed first. Pictured the shot going in. Pictured Peyton being impressed.
He shot.
It bounced off his head.
As it rolled down the driveway, he rushed after it, his face burning. He swiped it up with both hands, turned and shot without thinking, wanting to rid himself of the stupid ball for good- Swis.h.!.+
”d.a.m.n!” he cried. He was so surprised and pleased, excited by his accomplishment that he'd all but forgotten it was a ploy to get her to talk.
Peyton gave him a thumbs-up. ”Not bad,” she said approvingly. ”Not bad at all when you don't think so hard.”
”One more,” he told her, feeling all warm inside. ”And if I make this one, you have to tell me why you've been crying.”
Peyton considered. ”Okay,” she said at last. ”You'll never get two in a row anyway.”
Oh, wouldn't he? They'd see about that. He bounced the ball twice, then caught it. Aimed again, sucking in a breath but also trying not to think...
The shot bounced off the rim.
”d.a.m.n,” he said again, but this time with less joy.
Peyton laughed, collecting the rebound. ”Ha!” she said. ”You lose.” She did a little victory dance.
Chris rolled his eyes. ”Oh, come on,” he teased. ”You know you want to tell me anyway.”
She stopped her little dance, her expression sober. ”Oh fine,” she said at last. ”You're going to probably find out tomorrow in school anyway.” She walked to the stone wall dividing her house from the neighbor's and sat down on it. Chris joined her, his heart beating as fast as he could ever remember. He was so close he could reach out and touch her. Of course, that would end any chance of her talking to him, so he managed to resist the urge. If only she wasn't so d.a.m.n pretty. That gorgeous, long blond hair and those beautiful blue eyes. He could barely stand it.
”It's Drew,” she explained. ”I caught him... He was kissing Brenda Booker.”
Chris made a retching noise before he thought. ”Gross!”
Peyton turned, slight amus.e.m.e.nt coloring the sadness in her eyes. ”You don't approve?”
”Of Brenda Booker? She's nasty. Didn't she have her LTF revoked?”
Peyton gave him a half smile. ”I don't know,” she said. ”I guess you'll have to ask Drew.”
”Well, he always was a bit of an idiot.” Chris knew he was being too daring, but he didn't care. That Drew had hurt Peyton made him furious inside.
She stared down at her feet, looking so sad that Chris once again wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug her and tell her everything would be okay. That she didn't want to date such a meat boy anyway. But he didn't know if any words of comfort would help. Also, sadly, he was pretty positive she'd reject any physical comfort.
”I'm sorry,” he said. ”He doesn't deserve someone like you.”
She looked at him quietly for a moment. Then she said, ”I punched him in the nose.”
Chris's eyes widened. He couldn't imagine punching Drew, because he knew what would happen to him if he did. ”Nice,” he said admiringly, wis.h.i.+ng he'd been there to see that happen.
”I think I broke it, actually. I've been training a ton, and I'm pretty strong.”
Chris couldn't believe his ears. His day couldn't have gone better. ”I can't wait to see him in school tomorrow. He's going to be so embarra.s.sed! To be shown up by a girl! Lawlz!” He caught himself too late. ”Um, not that there's anything inferior about girls.”
For the first time, Peyton laughed. He'd made her laugh! ”Yeah, don't worry. I know what you mean,” she said. ”And thanks. For listening and stuff. And for shooting hoops with me. Basketball always makes me feel better.”
His heart was pounding again. ”I'll listen anytime,” he said. ”And shooting hoops was fun. I'd love to try it again sometime.”
”It's a deal,” she said. When she held out her hand, he took it in his and shook, shocked by the tingle of electricity that pa.s.sed between them. He wondered what it'd be like to hug her. To hold her. To feel her body against his. He'd probably go into cardiac arrest.
She dropped her hand quickly, and he wondered if she'd felt the jolt, too. Her expression was unreadable.
”Anyway,” she said. ”Let's go find my dad.”
Chapter Ten.
Peyton followed Chase down the aisles toward the Garden and Patio section. He pushed open a door and led her into a large, colorful greenhouse. The walls of the house were blocked off with metal, but the gla.s.s ceiling was still uncovered and let in the last of the evening light. Lush emerald vines loaded with plump ripe tomatoes and s.h.i.+ny yellow peppers climbed brightly painted trellises in the center of the room. Fresh herbs sprouted from small planters lining one wall. Carrot tops poked through the dirt in a trough.
She twirled around, impressed, taking it all in. ”This is amazing,” she remarked. ”When you said you grew your own food, I figured maybe you had a few raspberry bushes or something.”