Complete Nothing (True Love #2)(41)

“Fine. Don’t ask,” I said. We both knew she was asking about that encounter with Peter earlier. The whole thing had been so awkward and devastating. Friends? He wanted us to be friends? “Where’s True?”

“She had to work right after school,” Lauren explained. The line of boosters reached the end of the bleachers, and everyone started to sit. I looked down. Perfect. I was almost directly behind Peter. Now I could spend the next ten minutes pining for him and wishing I could touch his hair.

As soon as my butt hit the bleacher seat, my phone beeped. I whipped it out and my heart skipped a startled beat. It was a text from Keegan.

JUST GOT OUT! NO PRACTICE TODAY. WANT TO MEET UP?

He wanted to get together. With me. The insanely hot quarterback from St. Joe’s. How was this even happening? I tilted the phone toward Lauren. Her eyes lit up.

“Perfect!” she mouthed.

I could tell what she was thinking and I grabbed her hand, suddenly nervous beyond belief. “Don’t!”

But it was too late. When Lauren decides to do something, she does it.

“He wants to meet up with you now?” she asked giddily. She didn’t even say it overly loudly. It was as if we were having a real conversation.

Out on the basketball court, the cheerleaders gyrated through their number. Peter cocked his ear ever so slightly toward us. My heart thudded in my chest in time with the crazy dance music.

“Um . . . I guess,” I said.

“So are you gonna go?” Lauren asked.

“I can’t. We’re not done for another twenty minutes or so, and we have rehearsal tonight,” I replied through my teeth. I felt guilty somehow, participating in this charade. It seemed hurtful, suddenly. And wrong.

Then one of the cheerleaders popped up into the air, momentarily distracting me, and when I looked up, Josie was bent over with her butt in the air, looking over her shoulder at Peter.

Why did I feel guilty, exactly?

“I’ll text him back,” I said. “Maybe we can do something tomorrow.”

Lauren gave me a thumbs-up, her hand against her thigh. I cleared my throat and typed back.

CAN’T TODAY. SRY. PEP RALLY PRACTICE THEN HOMEWORK, DINNER, REHEARSAL. FUN FUN FUN! BUT HOW ABOUT TOMORROW?

I sent the text and held my breath. He responded in about two seconds. When my phone beeped, I swear Peter flinched.

TOMORROW NITE GOOD?

I grinned. “He says tomorrow night,” I told Lauren, looking at the back of Peter’s head. His ears were a very deep shade of pink. I texted back.

DEFINITELY.

COOL. TXT ME UR ADDY & WILL PICK U UP @ 7.

I showed the phone to Lauren and we both giggled. Although mine was more nervous than excited. With shaking fingers I texted him the info he needed, then pocketed my phone.

The dance routine ended and Peter jumped up, clapping and whooping, so of course everyone else did the same. I stood up for my sister’s benefit and clapped for her, a satisfied smile on my lips. He could cheer for his JV girl as much as he wanted. I had my own hottie up my sleeve, and tomorrow night I was going to pull him out.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


True


The Studio. It had an oddly self-important name, this place where Claudia spent half her free time. The Studio. As if it was the only studio on the face of the planet. Or at least the only one worth mentioning.

I glanced at my watch. I was early. Claudia’s class didn’t start until seven o’clock, and it was only 6:50. Rolling up onto my toes, I looked up and down the lazy side street on which the Studio was located. A woman walked her four large dogs along the opposite sidewalk, each of them so perfectly behaved their leashes weren’t even touching. A few doors down, several children let out a loud “hi-ya” in unison, working their way through tae kwon do drills. Then the clouds shifted and the setting sun glinted off a blue-and-silver sign near the corner, almost blinding me. When I could see again, I read the sign. MURDOCH’S OUTDOORS: THE HUNTING AND FISHING SPECIALISTS.

My heart gave a flutter as my father’s warning rang in my ears. If Artemis showed up here with her temper on, she would be a serious threat to my existence, especially in my weakened human state. I thought of the arrow I’d left on the floor of the cafeteria and how useless it would have been anyway, without a bow. Perhaps it was time I armed myself. Just in case.

I tossed my hair behind my shoulder and strolled over to this Murdoch’s establishment. There, displayed proudly in the window, was a tremendous hunting bow, so tall it would have come to my chin with its base resting on the ground. Next to it, a crossbow was propped against a fake rock, its loaded arrow facing the ceiling. There were bear traps and bludgeons and even a slingshot. I couldn’t believe my luck. How much did these things cost? Could I afford one with the paycheck I had coming to me tomorrow night? I felt a prickling sensation inside my mouth and realized I was salivating. I reached for the door.

“True?”

My hand fell and I turned. Claudia and her best friend, Lauren, stood before me, Claudia sporting pink tights, gray leg warmers, white slip-on sneakers, and a tiny black sweatshirt, and Lauren in black tights, a black leotard, gray shorts, and black sneakers.

“Oh. Hello,” I said.

Claudia’s eyes flicked over the camouflage netting strapped to the inside of the glass door.

“Um, what’re you doing?” she asked, letting out a short laugh.