“Speedos,” Sammie explains.
“Nothing too serious,” Evan insists. “No one will get hurt or anything like that.”
“Well, except last summer,” Virgo says, “someone”—he looks at Evan—“stole the stamp from Rocket Subs and a bunch of those ‘Buy eight, eat one free’ cards. They tallied how many free subs they could get before the owner realized and got a new stamp.”
“Sixteen days, twenty-two subs,” Evan says with pride.
“Yeah, and that didn’t end well,” Virgo says. “Jasmine Picard almost got fired for that little escapade, since she was the one in charge. And now you’re on my watch.”
“Walk away if you’re not interested,” Evan says. “Bennett pool games are a long-standing tradition, one that cannot be stalled by one minor unfortunate conclusion.”
Virgo takes his advice and walks away.
Evan opens a locker on the wall behind us, pulls out his wallet, and then jumps up and sits on the counter, right next to me. “Are you betting girls?”
His face is lit with excitement, and I answer quickly. “Depends,” I say. “I could be a betting girl.”
Something about him strikes something in me—maybe it’s the lame memory of my fifteen seconds in heaven—but I instantly regret my response. I am not a betting girl. I am a play-by-the-rules, don’t-ever-get-in-trouble girl. I mean, I used to be. Once should have been enough to teach me a good lesson.
And then Sammie kicks me under the counter.
“Ouch.”
I look at her. He’s mine, her eyes say.
She’s into him. I hadn’t realized. Of course. Why wouldn’t she be? He’s cute. He’s smart. He’s funny.
My friendship with Sammie matters more than anything, except Mila. And anyway, the last thing I need right now is the distraction of a cute, smart, and funny guy. Her kick forces me to recall my promise—to myself, to my family—to keep it all together.
But before I can back out, Evan smiles at me and says, “Excellent.” And then he turns to Sammie. “What about you? Play with us?”
She pulls out her wallet, even though I know money’s tight for her. “Of course I’m in. What are we betting on?”
“Simple. What time he’ll come back. Two bucks each. The one closest to the real time wins the pot.” He puts his money on the counter. “But we need to round up more players.”
Evan leaves us to invite the other guards to join the pot, and Sammie collapses onto the counter.
“Why are you kicking me? Do you like him?”
“Ugh,” she mumbles. “It doesn’t matter. It’s obvious he’s into you.”
“No thanks,” I say, lying to myself and to her. “You know I’ve sworn off guys forever.”
She lifts her head. “Oh come on, Vivi, forever? Just because of one minor incident?”
“No,” I remind her. “Just because of one major scandal involving one major jerkwad who ruined my reputation for life.”
“What reputation? Here at Bennett Tower Pool, there is no scandal. You have no reputation. No one here knows anything about you.”
“Seriously. You should totally go for Evan,” I say.
“But—”
“Really. I’m not interested. At all. He’s all yours. I just want to take it easy this summer, use my time to get back on track in school, and enjoy not knowing anyone.”
“Excellent.” She leans over the counter and kisses me on the cheek. “Let the flirting commence.”
Evan returns to the counter. “We’ve got a pretty decent pot going. Virgo’s sitting out, but everyone else is in.”
“I’m in, too,” I say, and I pull the money from my wallet. “Two bucks each, right?”
“Yes!” Evan yells. “She’s in!”
And so it begins.
This silly game and our wait for Professor Cox to return.
The job isn’t quite awesome yet, but it’s interesting, at the very least. Much better than the McDonald’s alternative. I’m surrounded by people who aren’t judging me on my past or scrutinizing my future life goals.
Evan puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes tight. “We have a game!”
His hand rests there for a good long moment. I don’t want him to let go.
Sammie kicks me again.
I shrug off Evan’s hand and try to send a psychic message back: He’s all yours. I don’t want any more trouble. I want to do right by you and everyone else in my life. I just want to be good again.
College Admissions Tip #3
College admissions boards seek well-rounded students who show an investment in a sport or an activity where you have learned something, developed a skill, and perhaps even contributed to the group in new and meaningful ways.
I win the first round after guessing that Professor Cox will return in twenty-nine minutes, which is only one minute off from when he actually returns. I win eight bucks, and Evan sends me the happiest smile. “Aren’t you glad you decided to play?”
I don’t answer. I refuse to flirt back.