Complete Nothing (True Love #2)(32)

“Fine,” I said, straightening my posture. “Just a little tickle in my throat. So, do you like working for your dad?”

“It’s not bad. I get to take whatever I want out of the vending machine in the break room, I can roll in ten minutes late and no one cares.” He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. I couldn’t help noticing how the fabric of his jacket sleeves strained as his muscles bulged. “I get to meet pretty dancers,” he said in a leading way.

A warm blush spread across my cheeks. The silence dragged out for a long minute. I knew I should say something flirtatious back, but what? I thought of that waitress at Pizza City. That sophomore chick who had basically melded her body with Peter’s this afternoon. Liza Verdanos. Even my sister, Casey. What would any of them say? It came to me in a flash, and I opened my mouth before I could lose my nerve.

“Well, when I came here I didn’t expect to hang out with the doctor’s hot son.”

My words hung in the air, and for a split second I was sure I’d gone too far, said the wrong thing, totally turned him off. But then he smiled.

“We should hang out sometime,” he said, pulling his phone from the pocket of his chinos and handing it to me. His attitude oozed confidence, like he knew there was no way I was going to say no. “Let me get your number.”

I was trembling so violently I could barely enter the info, but somehow I got through it. Then Keegan lifted the phone to take my picture, and I couldn’t wipe the proud smile off my face.

I’d done it. I’d flirted successfully, and now I was going to go out with a guy who was guaranteed to make Peter jealous. Step one of True’s brilliant plan was complete.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


Peter


“Would you like to declare a major?” I read out loud.

Were they effing kidding? Declare a major? Now? Who knew what the hell they wanted to do for a job when they were seventeen? Not me. I didn’t know what I wanted to do tomorrow, forget the rest of my life. I rubbed my forehead with the heels of my hands, my eyes crossing. Part of me wanted to shove these applications into a drawer and deal with them tomorrow, but I couldn’t. My mom had told me I wasn’t allowed to come out of my room until I’d finished at least two of them. I groaned and looked at my cell.

Claudia. She would know how to fill these things out. If I hadn’t broken up with her, she’d be here right now. Or as soon as her rehearsal ended. I reached for the phone and brought up her name. My thumb hovered over the call button.

What the hell was wrong with me? Couldn’t I even do some paperwork without running back to my ex? Maybe she was right about me. Maybe I was pathetic.

I dropped the phone, and it clattered off the edge of my desk and smacked against the wall. The back popped off, and I was staring at the battery.

“Dammit.”

I got up, grabbed the phone pieces, and lay back on my bed, trying to breathe. Coach was on my case about these two applications as well, because their scouts were coming to the game this weekend. College of New Jersey and Rutgers. I wasn’t good enough to play at Rutgers, and I knew it. But I could maybe play, like, second string at CNJ. A couple of guys from last year’s squad were playing there now. It seemed like it might actually be possible. It had to be. I didn’t even want to go to college if I couldn’t play football. I’d been doing it every fall since I was seven. I couldn’t imagine life without it. If I had to go somewhere, maybe CNJ wouldn’t be that bad. I could come home on the weekends easily. And if Claudia went to Princeton . . .

“Oh my God, you loser! You broke up with her!” I said through my teeth.

And it wasn’t like she’d come begging me to take her back or anything. She was trolling for dates for homecoming right now, a thought that hurt like hell every time it popped into my mind, which was about every fifteen seconds.

I wanted to call her. I wanted to call her so bad. Which really pissed me off.

I sat up again and grabbed my Xbox controller. Eff it. Half an hour. I’d give myself half an hour to play. The applications weren’t going anywhere.

I turned on the TV and muted it so my mom wouldn’t hear the game. With her at the desk in her bedroom working on her blog and Michelle in her room reading her speech for her middle school council elections, the house was totally silent. Which was probably why I heard the car pull up outside and the doors pop. My friends’ voices were insanely loud, and I realized my window was open. I went over to it and leaned my arms on the sill. Gavin, Mitchell, and Lester were cutting across the lawn, which I really had to mow this weekend before it got completely out of hand.

“What are you losers doing here?” I whispered.

They stopped and looked up. “Kidnapping you!”

“Shh!” I said, glancing toward my mom’s window. I hoped she was blasting Bon Jovi through her headphones like she did sometimes while she worked. “Where?”

“We’re going to the diner to meet up with some cheerleaders,” Lester whispered. “Josie’s gonna be there!” He did a stupid dance, thrusting out his chest and butt like he was a girl. It just made him look more like a chicken.

But still, certain parts of me stirred at the sound of Josie’s name. I glanced over my shoulder at the applications, then down at my busted phone. Suddenly there was nothing I wanted to do more than get the hell out of there.