Play Hard (Make the Play #2) Read online

  What is wrong with this picture?

  Chris and I have never really had girlfriends. We date, we hook up, we have fun, we go out, but we don’t do commitment. At least we didn’t. Now Chris is in a committed relationship. Odd that the one girl to break through Christian’s commitment phobia is my sister. The girl that used to irritate the hell out of him. The girl he used to try to ditch at every opportunity. The girl he used to fight with and pick on.

  Now he loves her.

  Go figure.

  I never thought I’d be interested in a relationship. At least not in high school. Probably not even in college. We have our whole adult lives to be tied down to one person. But we only have one shot at being teenagers and college students. But then I met Melissa. It’s not like I was ever in love or with her or anything. We didn’t even date that long.

  However, I liked her a lot.

  She was fun, smart, and sexy. And I wanted to be with her. Not forever, but for awhile. Maybe even a long while. I’m not even sure I understood how much I liked her until she broke it off with me. Normally when a girl did that I couldn’t care less.

  I’d be like, “Sayonara. Good riddance. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.”

  But this time I was all like, “Boo-hoo. Let me go get drunk so I don’t have to think, so I don’t have to feel.”

  Honestly, it kind of scared me. I’m not an emotional guy. I’ve never been accused of being sentimental or sensitive, but with Melissa I was softening. Now she’s dating some other guy. Some older, college pre-med student or something like that.

  So, she’s a gold digger, I take it. Glad I found that out now.

  And, really, wait until I make it into the major leagues. Then Mr. Doctor won’t look as good, will he?

  Blowing out a breath, I turn onto my street. Our house is lit up, Mom’s office window glowing. My insides knot, and I pray I’ll be able to sneak in past her. I’m not in the mood for a chat with Mom. Dad I can handle right now because he’ll want to talk sports and rehash the game. But Mom doesn’t like to talk sports. The romance author in her always has romance on the brain. And romance is the last thing on my mind. Mostly because my love life sucks right now.

  Man, I never thought I’d say this, but I need to get a life.

  Taylor

  I’ve just entered another circle of hell – the school cafeteria.

  It’s a sea of jeans and flannels, ponytails, gelled hair and sports jerseys. I stick out like a sore thumb in my shredded jeans and black t-shirt. Students are all huddled at tables, chatting and laughing with their friends. A few heads bob up when I enter, but no one greets me. Instead, they flash me curious glances before whispering to the person next to them. It’s not unexpected. I haven’t exactly given off a warm and friendly vibe.

  Still it stings a little.

  Being completely alone at lunch is new for me. It’s not like I was Miss Popularity at my last school. Then again, that was never what I was aiming for. I had my group, and I fit into it nicely. And even though we weren’t considered popular, no one messed with us. In fact, it’s safe to say that most people were scared of us. Well, maybe not scared of me exactly, but with the people I hung with. It made me feel safe, actually.

  Until it didn’t.

  Shivering, I step forward. Chills snake down my spine, goosebumps rising on my flesh. Funny how just thinking about my old life can cause a visceral reaction. As much as I miss it, I’m also glad I’m far away from it too. Man, I’m so messed up right now. My emotions couldn’t be more conflicted.

  Mom says this is a normal way to feel right now, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’ve always thought of myself as a pretty levelheaded person. My parents might not agree with this assessment, but that’s okay. We rarely see eye to eye on stuff. But usually I know how I feel. I’m not wishy-washy like some girls, but lately I seem to be all over the place.

  Weaving through the cafeteria, my stomach twists. I pass a table filled with musclebound guys wearing baseball caps. By their large, cocky smiles and the emblem on their hats, I assume they’re on the baseball team. These guys are like local celebrities around here. I almost laugh out loud picturing them at my old school. No one would give a crap about them there. Maybe if they were football players. Then again, the group I hung out with couldn’t care less about any of the jocks.

  My gaze catches on one of the players. Brown tufts of hair peek out from under the bill of his cap. When he reaches for his water bottle, the muscles on his arm bulge. Lifting his head, his eyes meet mine, and that’s when I recognize him. Not that we’ve ever met, but he’s the talk of the campus. His name is Cal, and he’s the pitcher for the Prairie Creek Panthers. From what I’ve seen he’s pretty full of himself. The odd thing is that I have his sister in my geometry class, and she appears to be opposite from him. She’s quiet and studious, while he’s loud and arrogant. Cal surprises me with a smile. Pulse quickening, I avert my gaze without smiling back.

  I know guys like him, and trust me, it’s never a good idea to encourage them. Head bent, I hurry toward the food line. If only I’d brought my lunch today. But I’d been running late, so Aunt Molly shoved a five dollar bill into my hand before I’d gotten out of the car.

  Most kids my age drive themselves to school, and I could too. I have my license. But my car is back home. Besides, I doubt Aunt Molly or Uncle Alex would trust me enough to let me drive anywhere at this point.

  Blowing out a breath, I move forward in line. The scent of BO and perfume circle me as I follow the painfully slow line up to the food. It’s slim pickings by the time I reach the front. I select a chef salad in a plastic container and carry it to the register. After paying, I clutch the salad in my hand and hurry toward the glass doors leading out to the quad. My gaze is so focused on the doors that I’m not paying attention to my surroundings and I run right into some guy’s chest. Instinctively, I throw up my free arm to shield myself. My palms connect with his chest and I’m struck by how hard his muscles are.

  Heart thumping, I step back.

  “Sorry,” the guy mumbles.

  I glance up, my breath hitching as my gaze connects with Cal. His eyes are dark and penetrating as he stares down at me. From this close I can see why the whole school seems to worship him. Every inch of him is perfect, from his chiseled face, dark eyes, full lips, strong nose and muscles rippling his body. Good thing I’m not into that kind of guy or I might fall for him this instant. Swallowing hard, I back up.

  “Taylor, right?” he asks.

  I nod, my throat tight.

  “I’m Cal.” He thrusts his hand out.

  Taking a deep breath, I fold my hand over his. He grips my fingers tightly as he shakes my hand. His palms are warm, his flesh calloused and rough. It’s the first time anyone besides my aunt or uncle have touched me since I’ve been here, and oddly enough it feels good. Too good. I withdraw my hand quickly and steady myself.

  “Um…nice to meet you,” I fumble with the words, my gaze flickering to the glass doors.

  “You too.” He smiles, causing his charm meter to skyrocket. Man, this guy has everything going for him, doesn’t he?

  “Cal!” A male voice calls out, and Cal’s eyes slide past me.

  He throws me an apologetic look before stepping around me. “See ya around.”

  “Yeah,” I whisper, hating that my heart dips a little at how quickly he dismisses me. Not that I expected any different. He was only being polite. And really, it’s not like I care. He’s not my type. Not at all.

  I bet he doesn’t know a thing about skateboards.

  Or a thing about my world.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I spot him laughing with his friends. Absentmindedly, he reaches up and tugs down on his baseball cap with his thumb and index finger. I try to imagine what his life must be like. I’ll bet he’s lived a sheltered life filled with field parties and baseball games. Probably couldn’t even survive in my old neighborhood. As I continue to watch him, I wonder if
that’s such a bad thing.

  I mean, look at me.

  I may have survived, but at what cost?

  Spinning around, I race outside. The air is cool, but I welcome it. The scent of damp earth fills my senses as I take a seat under a nearby tree. The grass is slightly wet and water seeps through my jeans, but I don’t care. It beats sitting inside. Opening my salad, I pour on the dressing and mix it with the plastic fork. Spearing the lettuce, I take a bite. Chewing, I glance around the quad. Students are scattered around, some sitting on the cement while others are huddled on the grass. Most are with friends but a few are alone. However, the loners are hunched over their cell phones, their fingers flying over the touch screen.

  My heart pinches. I miss my phone, but Mom took it from me before I came here. It was the only way to truly cut off my ties to my former friends; to my former life. Aunt Molly offered to get me a new phone if I wanted it, but I don’t see the point. It’s not like I have anyone to contact. I haven’t made any friends here, and all my old friend’s numbers are programmed in my phone back home. Mom probably burned that sucker. She’s afraid that if I have a phone, I’ll try to reach out to my old group through Facebook or Instagram or something. However, if I want to do that I can anywhere. We have computers at school, at the library, even at home. Trust me, I want to stay hidden as much as my parents want me to. I have no desire to be found right now.

  As much as I hate to admit it, I need this time.

  And I plan to take it.

  But I’m not going to get too cozy here because eventually I’ll be ready to go home. Ready to face everything.

  I’ll even be strong enough to face him.

  CAL

  The new girl intrigues me.

  She has from the first moment I saw her. It’s clear that she’s nothing like the other girls around here, and she’s impossible not to notice. Every time she enters the room all heads turn in her direction. Her name’s been on everyone’s lips since she arrived. Not that the words spoken about her are kind. But that’s the thing about this town. Different is scoffed at. Different is scary. Therefore, it’s rejected.

  However, I like different. To me it’s not scary at all. It’s exciting. And we can sure as hell use some excitement around here.

  Truth is, I bumped into her on purpose. I’ve been dying for an excuse to talk to her for the past two weeks. Mostly she keeps to herself. She’s got this whole dark and brooding vibe going on. But I’ve been wanting to find out if that’s who she really is or just an act.

  Now I’m beginning to think it’s who she is.

  Chicks dig me.

  That’s not bragging. It’s the truth.

  Girls don’t take it lightly when I go out of my way to talk to them. They either get all giddy or flustered or red in the cheeks. But not Taylor. When I introduce myself to her she appears bored and slightly confused. She certainly doesn’t seem impressed with me. A few girls from other tables peer over with unmasked envy. Right now they’re probably all wishing they were Taylor, and she seems like she can’t wait to get away from me. Her gaze fixates over my shoulder, an expression of longing on her face. It shouldn’t hurt, but it kind of does. I’m not used to rejection like this.

  I’ve heard the murmurings around school. Words have been tossed around in reference to her. Words like “freak” and “loser,” even “ugly.” But now that I’m seeing her up close, I can tell you those are not the words I’d use to describe her. From here, I can overlook the ripped, tattered clothes. With her face inches from mine, her beauty is evident. Her large hazel eyes, her pert nose and full heart-shaped lips are striking against her smooth, pale skin. She wears dark purple lipstick and heavy eye makeup. I can tell it’s her way of trying to appear harsh, but honestly it looks kind of hot.

  “Cal!” Hayes hollers.

  My heart sinks at the relief that passes over Taylor’s features. Apparently she’s hoping this is her chance to escape. I almost laugh out loud. I never thought I’d see the day when a girl was desperate to get away from me. It burns a little, but I also find it kind of amusing. It lights a spark in my gut.

  She’s not really my type. Then again, I’ve never known a girl like her before, so maybe I can’t make that qualification. But I guess I never thought I’d be attracted to someone like Taylor. My previous girlfriends all had a similar look – blond, curvy, preppy. This girl’s the complete opposite with her thin frame, dark hair and skater-type fashion. But something about her icy cold reception attracts me. It’s like she’s issued me a challenge, and everyone knows how much I like a challenge. I never back down from one.

  With a smile, I step around her. “See ya around.” I’ll let her run off for now, but eventually she’ll warm up to me.

  “Yeah.” Her voice doesn’t quite match the vibe she’s giving off. It’s soft and feminine, welcoming.

  Swallowing hard, I step away from her. Hayes is motioning me over with large hand gestures. Grinning, I move in his direction. I don’t bother glancing over my shoulder. Pretty sure that chick is long gone by now.

  When I reach the table, Hayes says, “Just thought you needed saving, man.” Lifting his hand, he fist bumps me. I respond to it, our knuckles bumping.

  “That’s Hayes, man. Always looking out for us,” Brady slaps him on the back, chuckling.

  I have no idea how to respond to them. Was I looking for a way out? Did I need saving?

  “Dude, Cal’s totally mute,” Palmer says.

  “Did she put a curse on you or something?” Hayes teases.

  At least I think he’s teasing. He’s known for making jokes. It’s rare for him to be serious. Except when he’s up to bat. Dude’s the best hitter on our team.

  “Ashley says she’s a witch,” Josh interjects.

  I glare at him. “Well, Ashley’s an idiot.” My sister’s former best friend is a sore subject for me. I might have fooled around with her, but I never would’ve touched the chick if I knew she had been using my sister to get to me. No one messes with my sister and gets away with it. Not Ashley, and not Josh. “Besides, no one asked your opinion, Joshy.” He hates when I call him that, and that’s exactly why I do it every opportunity I get. We may have to get along on the field, but off the field all bets are off. He treated my sister like crap when they were dating, and I’ll never forget that.

  His eyes narrow. “Someone’s testy. You gotta thing for voodoo chick?”

  Voodoo chick? Who the hell comes up with this stuff? I shrug. “I know one thing. At least every guy on the team hasn’t had her.”

  Josh’s face reddens.

  It’s a low blow, and I feel a little sick that I said it. He brings out the worst in me. So does Ashley. But my parents have raised me better than that. Calling a girl a slut isn’t really my style. It’s Josh’s style, and I shouldn’t sink down to his level.

  But Josh recovers quickly. He always does. “That’s ‘cause no one wants Taylor. I can’t help it if every guy on the team is attracted to my girlfriend.” The look he gives me is pointed, and my stomach churns.

  For the millionth time I wish I’d never messed around with Ashley. I have a feeling I’ll be paying for that mistake for a long time.

  Hayes furrows his brows. “Dude, are you really into the new girl? If I’d known that I wouldn’t have gotten involved. I just thought…” his voice trails off.

  The other guys shut up too. Josh scowls. I flash him a triumphant smile. That’s the difference between me and Josh. I have the respect of my teammates. No matter what girl I choose, the guys will support me.

  “Don’t sweat it. There’s nothin’ going on there. I just bumped into her. That’s all,” I say, easing their minds. It’s the truth. There’s no reason to start needless rumors. If the guys get even the slightest inkling that Taylor and I are a thing, news will spread like wildfire. It’s not like I care what people think. Hell, I’ll date whoever I want.

  But the girl has to want to date me.

  That girl couldn’t stand to be i
n my presence for two minutes. Not exactly the start of something. Even my mom would have to agree that a romance between Taylor and I is highly unlikely based on how she behaved.

  Glancing up, I spot Emmy and Christian sliding onto the bench at the other end of the table. Snatching up my stuff, I head in their direction. Sitting next to my sister, I nudge her in the side.

  “What do you know about the new girl?” I ask her.

  “Why?” Her eyebrows shoot up.

  I shrug. “Just curious.”

  Christian’s lips curve upward. “Curious, huh?”

  Ignoring him, I turn to Emmy.

  She throws Christian a knowing smile that flips my stomach. Then she returns her attention to me. “Well, she’s living with Pastor Alex and his wife Molly. Apparently they’re her aunt and uncle.”

  “I know that.” Everyone in Prairie Creek knows that. “Anything else?”

  She shakes her head. “They’ve been pretty tight lipped about her past, and she’s not exactly welcoming.” Emmy curls up her nose. “I’ve tried to talk to her a couple of times, and she’s frozen me out.”

  I nod, remembering the way she was with me.

  “I mean, there’s been a lot of speculation about why she’s here, but nothing concrete,” she continues.

  “Thanks,” I say, not wanting to hear rumors. I’m only interested in the truth. Not a bunch of crap someone made up. If I want that, I’ll read one of Mom’s books.

  Staring past Emmy, I look out the cafeteria’s smudged windows. Sitting under a tree is Taylor. She’s hunched over, spearing lettuce onto a plastic fork. When her head bobs up, her gaze shifts around the quad. My heart pinches at how lonely and lost she appears. Gone is the hard look she wore when we spoke. Alone in the grass, her expression is vulnerable and kind of sad.