The Boyfriend League by Rachel Hawthorne


  I was really careful applying the mascara, keeping my eyes wide open until it dried—no clown spots this evening. I wriggled into my hip-hugging jeans and slipped on a lacy light blue camisole. I accessorized with a navy blue lace choker. Maybe I was half a Tiffany.

  The doorbell rang. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My first official date with a guy from the baseball team. Shouldn’t I have been more nervous? Or at least a little more excited? Mac was hot. He was cute. He was interested.

  This was going to be fun.

  And at the end of the evening, maybe he’d give me a kiss to make me forget all about Jason’s.

  I grabbed my big beach tote, the one I used when I was going anywhere near the water. I’d stuffed an old frayed quilt into it, because the outdoor amphitheater wasn’t exactly set up for plush seating. Bird and I had been regulars last summer, and we pretty much had our routine down.

  I stepped into the hallway at the same time that Jason was coming out of his room. He was wearing jeans and a burgundy T-shirt that accentuated his dark coloring. It was the first time I’d seen him since last night. He’d been noticeably absent all day, working I guess. Or practicing. Or maybe just avoiding me.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.”

  I pointed to the stairs. “I’m going to the concert.”

  “Actually, Tiffany and I are going, too.”

  “Oh, really? You mean like a date?”

  “No.” He furrowed his brow, shook his head. “Just…friends I guess. She asked if I was doing anything tonight, and I wasn’t, so…”

  “That’s good. You’ll have fun. I’m glad. Really glad.”

  Okay, since I’d started running at the mouth, I decided to run for the stairs.

  “Mac’s really looking forward to tonight,” Jason said.

  I glanced over my shoulder and smiled so brightly I thought my jaw might come unhinged. “Me, too. I was kinda worried he wouldn’t show, after my jinxing the team.”

  “You only jinxed me. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I realized that I overreacted.”

  “Ya think?”

  “I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”

  “We decided last night didn’t happen, so as far as I’m concerned, all of it didn’t happen.”

  “Works for me.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Good deal.”

  “All right then.”

  I waited a beat. “We’re on the same page.”

  “Absolutely.”

  We both grinned.

  “I’ve run out of affirmatives,” I said.

  “Me, too.”

  “Okay, then.”

  Before we could start another volley of senseless banter, we both turned to the stairs. Partway down them, I heard voices. I wasn’t rushing down the steps and had no plans to go swinging around the corner. As I neared the foyer, though, I heard Tiffany.

  “But aren’t all baseball players catchers? I mean, aren’t they all supposed to catch the ball, so technically they’re all catchers?”

  I shook my head. She did not just ask that. No way.

  But when I came around the corner, Mac was looking at her like she was an alien life-form. Maybe she was, because no one could be that ignorant.

  Tiffany laughed. “I’m just teasing.”

  “That was a good one,” Mac said, but he said it like maybe he thought it was as lame as I did.

  Then he looked past her to me. “Hey, Dani.”

  “Hi.”

  He nodded at Jason, Jason nodded back, a real macho guy kinda greeting.

  “I think we should all ride to the concert together,” Tiffany announced.

  Mac actually looked embarrassed. “Uh, I have a pickup truck, one front seat.”

  “Jason could drive, couldn’t you, Jason?” she asked.

  I wanted to say no, but I didn’t know how to do it without sounding rude, and it looked like Jason didn’t know how to, either, so we all ended up in his car.

  “No misbehaving back there,” Tiffany said from the passenger seat, with a totally fake-sounding giggle.

  For a brief moment, I wondered if she was nervous. It was the kind of sound people make when they’re nervous. But no way was she not feeling comfortable. I mean, she was accustomed to being on a stage, strutting her stuff in front of hundreds of people. And she had, like, a million dates, so going out with guys was no big deal for her.

  While for me, it was an incredibly big deal.

  I was sitting behind Jason, so I could see his eyes in the rearview mirror. He was so serious, like driving down this street took immense concentration.

  “This is going to be so much fun,” Tiffany said. “We can all sit together at the concert.”

  “We’re meeting Bird there,” I told her.

  “She can sit with us, too,” Tiffany said, like she was being really generous in making room for my friend.

  “Actually, it’ll be Bird and Brandon.”

  She twisted around slightly. “Who’s Brandon?”

  “One of the other baseball players in town for the summer.”

  “That’ll be fun to include him, too. I bet the guys know him.”

  Jason and Mac kinda grunted, which I figured was their way of telling her she’d guessed correctly.

  “I’ll see. Bird may have other plans.” I didn’t want to commit Bird to sitting with us if she didn’t want to. Besides, I wasn’t totally certain I wanted to sit anywhere near Jason. It would be more than weird after what happened last night. Between trying to forget him and trying to impress Mac, my nerves were definitely on edge. Add Tiffany to the mix, and I could see only disaster on the horizon. I just wasn’t certain how many of her silly comments I’d have patience for tonight.

  I glanced over at Mac and really wished I hadn’t, because his gaze was focused on Tiffany, or as much of her as he could see, considering he was sitting right behind her. Tiffany with her hair all flowing around her, her makeup all perfect, and her shoulders bare because she was wearing a halter top.

  My tolerance for silly comments was going to be zero.

  When we got to the amphitheater, we did end up all sitting together on the grassy knoll. Brandon, Bird, me, Mac, Tiffany, and Jason. In that order.

  The stage was set up at the bottom of a small hill and the seats were carved into the landscape, reinforced with stonework, so it looked like a series of wide steps. People sat on the steps. Except at the very top—which was where we were—they sat on blankets.

  The band was local. The Blue Moon Group. The music had a dark, edgy sound to it. I couldn’t really decipher the lyrics, since they were screamed more than sung. It wasn’t the type of show I’d expected, but the concert committee had advertised they’d have an assortment of bands, orchestras, and offerings throughout the summer. This group had this whole Goth thing going, with leather and chains.

  “This music is so un-Ragland. Do you think the committee thought they were booking Blue Man Group?” Bird asked, near my ear, loudly.

  There weren’t any people sitting near us to be disturbed, and the volume of the music actually had the ground shaking. I wondered if they could cause an earthquake. Not that we were prone to earthquakes. Tornadoes were more our speed.

  My answer to Bird’s question was just a shrug. I was trying not to feel like a third wheel. Or in this case, a fifth wheel. Honestly, it was like I’d come without a date.

  “How does she do that?” Bird asked.

  I didn’t have to ask who the she was. I knew it was Tiffany. Nor did I have to ask what Bird was referring to. Jason and Mac were leaning toward Tiffany, listening to whatever it was she was saying, like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

  “Does she wear, like, turn-’em-stupid perfume or something?” Bird asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe guys like thinking they’re way smarter than girls.”

  “It’s gotta be an act. No one is that brainless.” She grimaced. “I don’t mean to dis your sister,
but really, does anyone think the moon actually turns blue?”

  Yeah, Tiffany had asked, “So when does the moon turn blue?”

  Mac had laughed and explained that a blue moon was the second full moon in a month, that a full moon appeared every twenty-nine nights, and so it was truly rare to have two full moons in any given month. He’d said he’d taken a class in astronomy.

  “Oh, I love astronomy. I’m a Pisces. What sign are you?”

  Which had made Mac laugh again, and he started to explain the difference between astronomy and astrology. Tiffany was apparently absolutely fascinated…and fascinating. His gaze—and Jason’s—was riveted on her.

  I gave another little shrug, feeling a need to defend my sister, who might be in need of a trip down the yellow brick road to ask the wizard for some brains. “I wasn’t exactly sure what a blue moon was, either.”

  “But you know the difference between astronomy and astrology.”

  “Let’s just enjoy the concert, okay?”

  Which would have been a lot easier to do if halfway through it, Bird and Brandon didn’t start a kiss fest. Not that I could blame them. Music, crickets chirping, stars coming out as night descended…it was romantic.

  Brandon had definitely gotten to first base with Bird, while I hadn’t even gotten up to the plate with Mac. I couldn’t say the same about Jason. We had gotten to first base, but then it was like the umpire had yelled, “Foul ball!”

  Mac touched my shoulder. Finally, I thought, finally we’re going to start getting to know each other. We’re going to talk. He’s going to be interested in me, and I’ll be interested in him.

  “Your sister and I are going to the concession stand. Want anything?”

  A date? A boyfriend? A guy kissing me?

  “No thanks.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I watched as he and Tiffany made their way down the slope to the steps. He had his hand resting on the small of her back, supposedly to help keep her balanced so she didn’t take a tumble. Part of me thought I should see that as a plus in his favor. A considerate guy. Maybe I’d feel better about it if his hand was on my back.

  “Did she just steal your date?” Bird asked, clearly incensed enough to take a break from kissing Brandon.

  “They’re just going to get something to drink.”

  “They better be. Otherwise, I’ll short-sheet his bed.”

  I felt movement to my right. Jason had slid over, so he was now sharing my blanket. Part of me wished he hadn’t kissed me last night, because before that moment—that incredible moment—we’d become really comfortable around each other, and now we were back to that awkwardness. But part of me, a larger part of me, wished he’d kiss me again.

  Even if he had thought it was a mistake. As far as mistakes went, it was one of the best ones I’d ever experienced.

  He moved in so our cheeks were almost touching, his mouth near mine, so we could talk without having to shout.

  “Interesting band,” he said.

  “Understatement of the summer.”

  “You know any of the members?”

  “Why? Do you want to meet them?”

  “Not really. Just making conversation. Thought maybe since they were local…”

  “I think maybe they’re using aliases. I mean, do you think a mom actually named her kid Vegas?”

  He tipped his head toward Bird.

  “That’s not her real name.”

  “So maybe a mom nicknamed her kid Vegas.”

  “Maybe. But I think they’re using stage names.”

  “I would if I were them.”

  “You don’t like the music?”

  He shrugged. “I’m more of a Faith Hill fan.”

  “Yeah, I’d rather listen to Green Day.”

  He nodded.

  I didn’t know what to say, where to take the conversation from there, so I said something that probably was really none of my business. “You didn’t want anything from the concession stand?”

  “Three’s a crowd.”

  I nodded in sympathy and understanding. “Yeah, Mac and Tiffany really seemed to hit it off.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been a little surprised to see his attention…wander.”

  “That’s a nice way to put it.”

  “It’s hard being in a town where you know so few people. Think he’s just trying to make friends. We all are.”

  “Friends, huh?”

  “Yeah. We’re not staying, Dani. We’re here for a couple of months, playing ball, having some kicks where we can.”

  “And last night.”

  “Was a mistake. I told you that.”

  But I think I was hoping, after sleeping on it, he might have changed his mind.

  “Looks like Brandon’s heading toward second base with your friend,” he said, in one of his now familiar let’s-change-the-subject-tactics.

  Heavy petting. Bird and I had researched the dating definitions on the Internet, because we figured baseball players would talk in baseball terms when dating, and we certainly didn’t want to give a guy the impression he was going to hit a home run with us if he wasn’t.

  “Bird really likes him,” I said.

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “I don’t mean to question your judgment, but you said Mac was a good guy, too, but I’m not seeing that.”

  “Give him a chance.”

  I wondered if Mac was going to give Tiffany a chance, if I was the favorite only when beautiful Tiffany wasn’t around.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I asked after a few minutes.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve always wondered…what exactly do a catcher and pitcher discuss at the mound?”

  He studied me for a second, before finally saying, “Last night we talked about you.”

  Chapter 17

  I was stunned.

  “You talked about me? Was this before or after I talked to you in the dugout?”

  “Before.”

  “What? Why? What was there to say?”

  “Okay, you two, make room for us,” Tiffany said, returning from the concession stand, handing Jason a bottled water and nudging him back over to the blanket they were sharing.

  What could they have possibly been saying about me?

  Mac sat beside me. “I know you said you didn’t want anything, but since I was down there…”

  “Thanks.” Forcing myself to smile, to not start grilling him about the conversation at the mound, I took the bottle of water he offered.

  He leaned toward me. “Your sister’s funny.”

  “Oh, yeah, she’s a regular Rita Rudner.”

  “She said she’s never been to a baseball game. That’s un-American.”

  He sounded genuinely appalled.

  “She keeps busy with other things.”

  “So she was saying. Man, I had no idea that beauty queens worked so hard.”

  “She’s not really a queen.”

  “She wears a crown.”

  “Technically, I think it’s a tiara.”

  “So what is she, a princess?”

  She did have a T-shirt with silver rhinestones on it spelling out PRINCESS.

  “I suppose.” Ready to move on.

  He took my hand. Actually took my hand. I waited for the spark I felt every time Jason touched me, but nothing happened. I mean, Mac had a nice hand. Warm. A little rough on the surface. I liked holding his hand. It almost made me forget about the feel of Jason’s.

  Mac grinned. “Okay, we’ve covered the free and the cheap. What else is there to do in this town?”

  For the remainder of the concert, his attention was on me. We talked about a lot of things. His major—business. His kid sister—he was planning to go home the next weekend because it was her birthday. His divorced parents—he hated being a statistic. His dream to play in the majors—for his hometown Astros.

  “You know the worst part about a date?” he finally asked.

  “Realizing it w
as a mistake?”

  He laughed, then sobered. “Is that what you think this one is?”

  “Oh, no, not at all.” But I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he did.

  “Good. Anyway, the worst part? Worrying about the good-night kiss. Puts a lot of pressure on a guy…building up to that moment. Who needs it? You know?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I was a little disappointed. First official date. No kiss. “I never thought about it like that.”

  “But I have a solution, to eliminate the pressure.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. Let’s just get it over with.”

  And he kissed me.

  It was my first public, in front of a thousand people—so, okay, maybe there were only two hundred at the concert—kiss. It had grown dark, and I really, really hoped Jason wasn’t able to see this, that he wasn’t on the other side of Tiffany saying, “Looks like Mac is heading to first base with your sister.”

  Last night, he and I were kissing, and now I felt self-conscious that less than twenty-four hours later I was kissing someone else. Kissing someone else who was attempting to “get it over with.”

  Not exactly a move I’d score a ten on the romantic scale.

  Even though the kiss itself was worthy of a ten. Well, maybe an eight, because all kinds of doubts kept flashing through my mind. Did he want to be pressing his mouth to mine? Was this an obligation kiss? Or was he just nervous, worrying about the end of the date?

  And what was Tiffany thinking? It was a toss-up as to which was worse: kissing in front of her or kissing in front of Jason.

  Mac drew back. Even in the darkness, I could see the white of his grin. “No more pressure.”

  He took my hand and leaned forward as though he wanted to listen more intently to the concert. Unfortunately, it gave me a clear view of Jason who was, yep, looking in my direction.

  I felt a need to apologize, which was silly. Mac was my date. He might even be more. He could be rounding first base to become my boyfriend.

  It was a little after eleven when we got home. Tiffany and Jason went into the house, leaving me alone on the porch with my date.

 
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