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No. From now on I was steering clear of Jake Graydon, in thoughts and deeds. Besides, if I so much as flirted with him, my friends would probably think I was trying to use him to get to them, and I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction. No way, no how.
No matter how long my residual blush lasted.
ally
The first Backslappers meeting was held in the bleachers alongside the soccer field, where David, Jake, Hammond, and the rest of the team were huddled around the coach on the sidelines. This was my first time up at the field since I’d been back, and I suddenly flashed on a memory of a gorgeous fall day back in freshman year when Chloe, Sha
The memory made me feel sad, so I trudged over to a bench near the back of the growing crowd and hunkered down. Chloe, Sha
It was a gray day and breezy, so I’d worn my Hancock East basketball sweatshirt from my school in Baltimore, which drew confused and irritated looks from every girl who settled in around me. Note to self: When joining a school-spirit club, it’s best not to baffle the natives with the name and colors of another school.
“All right, everyone! Let’s get this meeting started!”
The girl calling us to order was Trista Strickler, Crestie senior and major joiner. Even back when I was a freshman and she was a sophomore, she’d been either a member or president of at least half a dozen clubs. She had red curly hair held back by a Burberry headband, and a smattering of freckles across her upturned nose. Her sweatshirt was the proper colors: maroon with her name embroidered in gold on the left breast. On the back was the Orchard Hill High tiger in midpounce.
“I have the sign-up sheet right here,” Trista said, holding up her clipboard. “The first thing we need to do is assign a player to each of you. Anyone have any special requests?”
Instantly two-dozen hands shot into the air. Trista laughed. “Okay, let’s start at the top left. Name?”
“Melissa Waner,” the brace-faced girl said. Her friends giggled.
“Melissa Waner, sophomore.” Trista checked her off. “Who do you like?”
“Jake Graydon,” Melissa said. More giggles. Much louder this time.
“No way. Jake’s mine,” Sha
“But I wanted Jake!” Faith added with a pout. “There’s no way I’m getting stuck with someone with back hair. Oh God! Or backne!”
“Please. Jake’s my best friend. I call him,” Sha
Was that true? Were Jake and Sha
“He’s my friend too.” Faith’s bottom lip jutted out even farther.
“Wait a minute. I called him first,” Melissa Waner said bravely. “Jake’s mine.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back on my elbows, waiting for the shrieking and hair pulling to start.
“All right, all right!” Trista shouted, holding up her hands. “I had a feeling something like this might happen, so I’ve come prepared.” She fished a plastic baggie with a bunch of pink paper scraps inside out of her backpack. “I’ve written each player’s name down on one piece of paper.”
“We’re going to draw names from a hat?” Chloe asked.
“Actually, we’re going to draw names from a bag,” Trista corrected. “Seniors first, then juniors, and so on. Everyone, please come down here and line up in class order.”
They all jumped up like someone had just offered free manicures. I trudged down the bleachers after them and slid into line behind Chloe, who inched forward as if my B.O. were offending her. I felt an almost physical need to talk to her—to pull her aside and explain—but now was not the time.
The three seniors picked their names, and it was now Faith’s turn. She chose Jeff Levitt, who was apparently backne free, because she gave an overly dramatic sigh of relief as she read his name.
Sha
“Wait! No trading!” Trista said.
“But Trista! It’s Hammond,” Chloe said, her green eyes wide.
Trista’s brow knitted as she mentally debated whether to stick to her all-important rules or give Chloe what she wanted. “Okay, fine. Sha
Chloe, as always, won. And no one even batted an eyelash. Sha
“Josh Schwartz.”
“Oooh. The captain. Big responsibility,” Trista trilled.
Sha
“And you are?” Trista asked as I stepped forward.
“Nobody,” Faith said before I could answer, earning herself a few laughs. Sha
“Ally Ryan,” I answered.
Trista checked off my name. “Go ahead and pick.”
I reached into the bag, repeating “David Drake” over and over and over again in my mind. The team roster had been posted that morning and David had celebrated like a maniac when he found his name under VARSITY STARTERS. If he couldn’t have Sha
“Who is it?” Trista asked, her pen poised.
I swallowed hard. “Jake Graydon.”
Of course.
There were disappointed groans throughout the crowd. A couple of girls actually bailed from the line. Chloe, Sha
“Okay, ladies! Everyone has their man,” Trista said happily, once the line had dwindled. “Our first big event will be next Friday, the day of the opening game. You’ll be decorating your player’s locker and baking him a little something to leave inside. Feel free to leave him an inspirational note as well, or a poem or whatever moves you. Be creative. I know last year one of our girls left a mix of heart-pumping songs to listen to pregame, and the player really loved that.”
“That was me,” Chloe said, raising a hand to shoulder level and preening. A bunch of the girls looked at each other knowingly, like, Who else could it have been?
“We’ll meet here briefly on Thursday, when I’ll hand out locker numbers and combinations, and then we’ll have the run of the halls until six o’clock, so you’ll have plenty of time to decorate,” Trista continued. “It’s your first chance to really show your player what kind of backslapper you’re going to be, so do it up!”