My Big Fat Fake Wedding(7)

But I quickly brush any apprehension aside. I’m the football team captain, for God’s sake. I’d be laughed out of the locker room for being scared of a bunch of girls, especially freshmen who look up to me like I’m a god among men.

All except for Violet. Maybe that’s why it’s fun to tease her. She never takes it easy on me because I’m a big shot at school. She mostly acts like she doesn’t give a fuck about any of that stuff and challenges me at every turn to be more creative and strategic with my teasing.

She’s gonna regret one-upping me because I’ve got a good one planned for her this time.

“Hey, ladies,” I say as I saunter over, plastering a huge grin on my face. “How’s everyone doing today?”

Several of the girls blush and giggle, shooting heart-eyes among each other, but an already tense Violet snaps, “Um, hi. What happened—you lose your asshole hat today? Why are you being so polite?”

I place a hand over my heart, faking a pained expression. “Ouch! Oh, Vi, it gets me right here that you have such a low opinion of me.”

I glance to the girl at my right, a blonde whose name I don’t even know, and whisper conspiratorially, “She really hates me, huh? I don’t understand it. I’m a nice guy.” I swear the blonde’s eyes widen with my every word, and she’s nodding vacantly. I get that reaction a lot, and I hate it.

Violet scowls, not buying my nice guy act for a second, and then growls, “Sure, if that rotted thing you call a heart were capable of feeling emotion.”

Abigail peers at me suspiciously, glancing down the hallway to where my teammates are gathering around my locker. “Doesn’t our school’s resident top jock have better things to do than to harass us?”

“Sure, I do . . . but it’s a beautiful day,” I say, giving my sister one of my mega-watt smiles before turning my eyes back on Violet. “And I can’t think of a better way to spend it than with a sweet girl like Violet.” For good measure, I wrap my arm around Violet’s shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze as I pull her to my side. Every jaw drops in shock, jealousy, or some combination of the two. Except for Violet.

“I, uh . . .”

For once, Violet is speechless, caught off guard by my flirting out of nowhere, her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she gawks at me like I’ve sprouted barbed horns on my forehead. It takes a lot of effort not to laugh. I’m sure she was expecting me to call her chicken legs or one of the other variations we tag each other with, but I like being unpredictable. Keeps her on her toes.

Besides, ‘chicken legs’ doesn’t describe Violet anymore. So, if I’m gonna use it, I have to make it good.

Abigail peers at me suspiciously. “What’s got you in such a good mood? Did you get a D-on your biology exam, instead of an F?”

“I came bearing a gift, actually,” I say. “For beautiful Violet.”

“What the hell—” Violet begins to say as she tries to unsuccessfully pull away from me, totally wary and expecting a punchline any moment. Smart girl.

“How about some frog legs to go along with those chicken legs?” I yell, pulling the not-yet-dissected dead frog I borrowed from Biology from behind my back and stuffing it down the front of Violet’s shirt.

Caught off guard, Violet lets out an ear-piercing scream, grabbing at her shirt as she tries to get the frog off her. Between the two of us, her shirt gets more than a little stretched out, and her red lacy bra flashes for a split second.

I’m shocked for a moment, not having expected to expose her. But then she takes off running for the girl’s bathroom, still screeching like a banshee, and like the immature asshole I am, I double over in laughter. Nearby, all of my buddies and boys up and down the hall are laughing and pointing as Violet’s screams echo through the hallway.

“Dammit, Ross, why do you have to be such an asshole to her? She’s my best friend!” Abigail hisses angrily, punching me in the chest. “Why can’t you ever just leave Violet alone?”

“Calm down, Abs. It’s just a joke,” I say defensively, surprised at how angry Abi is.

We play pranks on each other all the time like this, and Abi is usually a good sport about the casual warfare Violet and I have against each other.

But not this time.

It did go a little further than I’d intended, but Violet’s cool. She’ll be pissed and then come back at me just as hard. I’ll have to be on the lookout for her retaliation.

Furious, Abi lets out a disgusted huff. “Stuffing a frog down her shirt is your idea of a joke? Grow up, Ross! You probably just ruined her favorite shirt, the one her grandpa gave her for Christmas! And half the football team just saw her bra.”

For the first time in a long time, I feel a pinch of shame. Maybe I took my juvenile antics just a little too far this time. I look back to my boys and see them high-fiving each other and realize that I might’ve put a target on Violet that I didn’t intend.

Some of the guys think the incoming freshmen are ‘fresh meat’, and I had to put a bounty on both Abigail’s and Violet’s heads to make sure no one would touch them. Just a big brother looking out, but I might have to refresh the guys’ memory about Vi being off limits after that little show.

Shit.

“Sorry, Abs. I didn’t mean—”