One of the Girls (Friendzone #1) Read online

  A whoosh of guilt blew over me. It’s silly, but I felt bad for the guy, even though he was a figment of Stacie’s imagination. “Maybe we could go out in a few months.”

  Cassidy reached out and flicked my nose. “Wrong answer. I swear you’re hopeless.”

  Stacie was only a little kinder. “Really?” Her look of disappointment had me wanting to crawl back into my shell, like a turtle hiding from the jaws of an alligator. She sighed. “The first part was good enough. It’s an appropriate response, given the recentness of your breakup. Under no circumstances are you to add anything about going out later.”

  “Sheesh.” I threw my hands up in frustration. They were taking this way too seriously. Grumbling, I said, “I get it. I don’t know if I can do it, but I get it.”

  “We’re only trying to help.” Cassidy raised a defiant eyebrow. “Do you want to say yes to every Dalton that asks you out? Or worse, every Ross that asks you out? Because if you do, we can back off.”

  I sighed. I really didn’t want to date at all right now. “No.”

  Cass smirked. “Then stop looking like I just kicked your puppy. Put on your big girl panties and deal with it. Besides, a little rejection is good for a boy. Puts hair on his chest.”

  “How would you know?” Stacie laughed.

  “Because I’ve turned Greg Metcalf down over a dozen times. Have you seen that guy in his swimsuit? He’s furry, like a thirty-year-old man. Or a freaking werewolf.”

  “Eeew!” I cried, and everyone laughed. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. We cleared our trash and headed for the hall. Upon reaching the bank of blue lockers, where we parted ways, I stopped and said, “I promise to try harder if I get asked out again.”

  “When you get asked out again,” Stacie corrected.

  Cassidy looked thoughtful. “Maybe we should tape a sign to your backpack. It could say something like not dating—don’t ask.”

  “Um…no,” I replied forcefully.

  “Perfect! Use that tone, and you’ll be golden.” She smacked me on the butt and laced her arm through Stacie’s, then bounced down the hall. I shook my head and went to class.

  The last three periods of the day flew by. After the final bell rang, I booked it to the gym, where people were already starting to gather. By three-fifteen, there were almost two dozen girls on the sign-in sheet. Each one was given a name tag with her corresponding number from the list.

  “Looks like a good turnout,” Ms. Lancaster said, setting her bag and a small box on the bottom step of the bleachers.

  I nodded in agreement. “I’m relieved to see so many girls. I’m sure we can find at least four who’ll be a good fit.”

  We surveyed the group for a second before she smiled at me. “You’re the boss. What do you want me to do?”

  “Did you bring the ranking sheets?”

  “They’re in the box,” she replied. “I rustled up some clipboards, too.”

  “Perfect. Can you pass those out while I address the masses?”

  She picked up the stack. “Absolutely.”

  Ms. Lancaster got the team settled. They were to evaluate each candidate on a numeric scale. Stacie and I would use those scores, along with the recommendations from each squad member, to narrow the selections.

  The room was buzzing with chatter and excitement. I cupped my hands together and called out, “Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” The noise instantly died. All eyes snapped to me. “Welcome to the Roosevelt cheer squad tryouts. We really appreciate your interest in being part of our team. Take a seat, and I’ll explain the process.”

  Ms. Lancaster tapped my shoulder. “Looks like you and Stacie have everything under control. I’ll be in the bleachers, grading papers, if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. She shouldered her bag and climbed to a private corner on the top row of seats.

  I looked back at the girls. “Today’s tryout will be broken into three parts, and you’ll be evaluated on the skills of cheering, dancing, and tumbling. We’re looking for girls with good energy, form, rhythm, and, most importantly, killer smiles. We want to feel your enthusiasm.”

  Stacie took over the instructions. “In the first portion of the audition, we’ll teach you a simple dance. Then you’ll be called up in groups of three to perform it.”

  She started to arrange the girls. I turned around to cue up the music and ran smack into a solid wall of muscle. “Oh. I’m so sorry!” I said.

  I was surprised to see Nick Moody standing in front of me, wearing a T-shirt and basketball shorts. “Don’t be sorry,” he replied. “It’s my fault. I didn’t want to interrupt while you were talking.”

  I took a step back and smiled. “Shouldn’t you be at football practice?”

  “Yep,” he replied but said nothing more.

  After a second, I asked, “Did you need something?”

  Nick took a huge breath and blew it out slowly. He looked nervous. Suddenly, I worried that he might be here for me. A feeling of dread settled in my stomach as I tried to remember exactly what I was supposed to say if he asked me out. I did not want to reject him in front of three dozen girls.

  A smile broke across his face. “I’m here to try out.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not…” His words registered, and I clamped my mouth shut, my forehead scrunched in bewilderment. “Excuse me?”

  “I’d like to try out for the cheer team. I’m not too late, am I?”

  “No.” I studied him closely. I didn’t know him well enough to tell if he was pulling a fast one on me. “Is this a joke? Because I really don’t have time—”

  His smile vanished, and he cut me off. “It’s not a joke.”

  “But you’re on the football team,” I pointed out lamely. I was so confused.

  “Yes. Though, I’d rather be on the cheer team, if you’ll give me a chance.” Nick’s confident expression turned wary. “Unless guys aren’t allowed. I didn’t think there was a rule against it.”

  “No,” I replied in a rush. “Boys are allowed. We’ve just never had one audition.” I raised an eyebrow and folded my arms over my chest. “Are you sure this isn’t an elaborate team prank?”

  “I’m sure. The team doesn’t even know I’m here.” He chuckled. “I imagine I’ll take some heat when they find out. I told Coach I had a doctor’s appointment.”

  I sucked in my cheeks and narrowed my eyes. There had to be a reasonable explanation. “Did you lose a bet?”

  This time he laughed, hard enough that his shoulders shook and his eyes crinkled. “No. I’m here because I want to be. Now, can I try out or not?”

  “What’s going on, Mia?” Stacie yelled across the room. “We’re waiting on you.”

  “One second,” I replied over my shoulder, looking back at Nick. “You swear this is legit?”

  “Would I be here if it wasn’t?”

  I pursed my lips and studied him a second longer. He flashed me a toothy grin. “That remains to be seen, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Follow me, and I’ll get you a number.” I grabbed the sign-up sheet and handed it to him, then picked up a sticker and a marker. “You need to fill this out. What number are you?”

  He glanced at the paper. “Twenty-two.”

  Everyone in the room was staring at us now. I handed Nick the sticker before walking over to the team. “Add Nick Moody to your list. Number twenty-two.” Ten pairs of eyes blinked slowly, but nobody’s hand moved to write. I sighed. “Oh, for goodness sake. You heard me, just do it.” Then I called to Stacie, “We have one more.” She gave me the same dumbfounded expression as I spun on my toe and walked back to Nick.

  He handed me the clipboard and slapped the number on his shirt. “What now?”

  I jerked my chin across the room. “Go find a place. We’re teaching a dance first.”

  He trotted off to a spot in the back of the formation, and I made my way to the stereo. Stacie addressed the group. “Okay, ladies…and gentleman. Good luck.”
/>   For the next thirty minutes, Stacie and I taught a simple sixty-count sequence. I tried to spread my focus equally over all the participants. But, like everyone else in the room, my eyes kept straying to Nick.

  Much to my surprise, he was keeping up. He wasn’t bad, either. He had good rhythm, and even though the choreography was on the feminine side, he pushed through it like a champ. I’d even say he was the best dancer in his group of three. By the end of the dance portion, my doubts about his sincerity were appeased.

  Nick struggled with the cheers a little, but not because he couldn’t do them. It looked like he felt awkward. We had the participants come up in the same groups of three, so while Nick was waiting for his turn, I slid next to him and spoke quietly. “Make sure your arm movements are tighter, and don’t forget to smile.” He looked down to meet my eyes, and I grinned. “You’ve come this far; might as well own it.”

  He grinned back. “Yes, ma’am.” When it was his group’s turn, Nick hammed it up, yelling loudly and sporting a big, cheesy smile. He probably felt silly, but I thought it was adorable.

  When we gave everyone a water break, Stacie and I huddled together. “I thought you were joking about Nick,” she whispered.

  I became very animated. “I thought he was joking.”

  She looked over her shoulder to check him out. He was chatting with one of the freshmen in line at the drinking fountain. “He’s actually okay.”

  “I know,” I agreed in amazement. “It’s crazy. I’d say he’s a better dancer than 75 percent of the girls. His cheering needs work, but that’s the easiest part to pick up. I’m sure he’d learn quickly. He seems pretty athletic.”

  Stacie purred, giving me a suggestive smile. “He looks pretty athletic, too,” she said under her breath.

  I laughed playfully and scolded her. “Be objective.”

  “I’m trying,” she whined.

  The group gathered around us, and I gave the final set of instructions. “Okay, people. The rest of the evaluation will happen individually. Can’t exactly have you tumbling into each other.” A few of the girls laughed at my humorous attempt. Mostly the kiss-ups. “We need to see each of you do a toe touch, herkie jump, cartwheel, and run into a roundoff. If you can do anything fancier, please let us know. We’ll start with number one and work our way up.”

  Stacie did a quick demo, and when she finished, the girls formed a line. After the first three recruits showcased mediocre skills, she leaned over my shoulder and spoke in a hushed voice. “Hopefully Nick’s cartwheels don’t make him look like an Oompa-Loompa. Because at this point, I’d say he might be a contender.”

  “Imagine that,” I mumbled.

  Chapter 5

  I glanced at the clock on the gym wall. This was taking much longer than I thought it would. Being last on the list was making me anxious. Football practice would be over in fifteen minutes, and I needed to be gone before any of the guys could see me. After the first twelve girls had done their cartwheels, I approached Mia and Stacie.

  “Hey. I was wondering if I could go next? I’d like to get out of here before football practice ends.”

  Stacie narrowed her eyes. “Embarrassed? Because cheer pride is a requirement for making the team.”

  I cringed inwardly. “I’m not embarrassed. It’s just that I had to lie to my grandfather about why I was missing practice. He’d have an aneurysm if he knew where I was right now. If the guys see me leaving school, they’ll rat me out.”

  “You do realize that they’ll probably find out long before Monday? All these girls saw you here.” Stacie pointed to the waiting crowd. “And girls like to talk.”

  “True, but if I make a clean getaway now, it’ll at least buy me the weekend with Coach.”

  It looked as if Stacie was going to say no, so I laced my fingers together like I was praying and silently begged until she caved. “Fine, you’re up.”

  “Thanks.” I patted the table and moved back about twenty feet.

  “All right, Nick. Let’s see your toe touch.”

  I figured they’d probably ask me to do one, so I YouTubed it last night and practiced. I had mad hops and was extremely flexible for a guy. The toe touch was no problem, even though I’d never seen a male cheerleader do one. The herkie jump, on the other hand… I’m sure it was ugly. Like hairless cat ugly. Or naked mole rat ugly. I know I looked stupid. Hopefully the rest of my audition would make up for it.

  After executing a perfect cartwheel and roundoff, Stacie gave me an approving nod and dismissed me. “Thanks, Nick. You can go.”

  “Don’t you want to see what else I can do?”

  Mia looked up from her paper, surprised. “There’s more?”

  This was my chance to make it count, to truly wow her. I couldn’t help grinning. “Yep, there’s more.”

  “Okay.” Her eyebrows hitched. “Show us what you’ve got.”

  I started with a back walkover, since that’s what Mia was having so much trouble with the other day. Then, for good measure, I did a front walkover, too, followed by an aerial cartwheel. A few of the girls gasped. Stacie was so shocked, her mouth hung open. Finally, she said, “No hands? That’s really impressive.”

  I smiled triumphantly. “Thanks. But I’m not done.”

  Next, I did a standing back handspring followed by a standing back tuck. Everyone started whispering. Even Ms. Lancaster looked up from the papers she was grading. Mia had yet to say anything, but Stacie hummed with approval. “You got any more tricks up your sleeve?”

  I winked at her before walking across the gym to give myself ample room. Then I took three or four running steps into a roundoff, double back handspring with a full twisting layout. After sticking my landing perfectly, I turned to face the audience.

  It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop until someone shouted, “Dang!” The room erupted in applause, and I saw Mia’s lips mumble holy crap.

  I walked back to the table. Stacie was grinning with delight. “Show-off.”

  I bowed dramatically. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “If you make the team, can you teach all of us how to do that?”

  “I can try. But it’s not as easy as I make it look.” I know I sounded cocky, but honestly, I had the right to be. Plus, girls liked confident guys. I mean, Mia was into Anderson, and he’s a complete narcissist.

  Stacie snorted. “No kidding.”

  I glanced at Mia, who was still staring at me, eyes wide and lips pursed. I willed her to say something, but she didn’t. I was running out of time. Football practice would be over any second. “Do you want to see anything else? I hate to cut out early, but I really need to go.”

  Stacie scribbled something on the paper in front of her. I tried to peek, but she folded her hands and set them on top of her notes. “Nope. I think we’re good. We’ll post the names of people who made the cut on Monday morning. Check the wall outside Ms. Lancaster’s room.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  I gave Mia and Stacie a nod, then waved to the rest of the team up in the bleachers, before grabbing my bag and bolting out of the gym. Having to wait until Monday sucked. But they needed time to think and compare scores; I got that. At least the hard part was over.

  I felt my dance and cheer auditions had been as good as anyone else’s. And I was pretty sure nobody could beat my tumbling performance. Still, I knew the odds were stacked against me. I was a guy going out for a girl’s sport. Despite my claims of sincerity, the team might not take me seriously. If a girl tried out for the football team, most of the guys would laugh her off the field. Even if she was better than them.

  I was out the front door when I heard someone call my name. “Nick, wait.” I stopped and turned around. Mia was jogging up behind me. “Hey,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I want to apologize for being a doofus back there. I was kind of in shock. I didn’t know you could do all that.”

  I shrugged. “Most people don’t. My mom was a gymnast, so I’ve been glued to a mat s
ince I was young. My parents own the Gym Stars Training Center over on Lincoln Ave.”

  She still looked bewildered. “Well, that was pretty amazing.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled, reflexively casting my eyes toward the ground. So much for confidence. For some reason, I felt shy about Mia paying me a compliment. And nervous. This was the longest conversation we’d ever had. If I didn’t make the team, it might be the longest conversation we’d ever have.

  “I’m sorry I questioned your intentions earlier. It was rude of me.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled on it. I slipped into a brief trance, wondering what it would be like to kiss her, then quickly tore my eyes away.

  “A little rude but not unwarranted,” I admitted. “I’d have questioned me, too. It’s not like guys are lining up to be on the Roosevelt High cheer team.”

  She laughed. “Are you sure you want to join our squad? We might make you look bad.”

  I slung my bag over my shoulder so my hands would have something to fiddle with. “You probably haven’t noticed, but I don’t get a ton of field time. I just want a chance to look like anything. I prefer tumbling anyway. Since the school doesn’t have a gymnastics program, cheer is the next best thing.”

  Mia frowned and put her hands on her hips. “I can’t understand why your grandpa doesn’t play you more. I don’t know much about football, but I’ve seen you throw, and you seem every bit as good as Cole.”

  It was my turn to be dumbfounded. The shock caused a massive brain fart. “You’ve seen me throw?” I stuttered.

  She gave me a look that said duh. “Of course I’ve seen you throw. We practice at the same time, silly.”

  Mia Ashlock just admitted to watching me at practice. It took all I had to keep myself from doing Sean’s ridiculous touchdown dance. Good thing I never knew she was looking. I’d probably have peed myself like an excited puppy when his owner walks through the door.

  Be cool, Nick, I thought. But I ended up saying, “Oh. Right,” which was decidedly not cool. I sounded like an inarticulate buffoon.

  A few members of the football team straggled through the stadium gate. I stiffened. Mia saw my reaction, and her eyes trailed mine to the side of the building. “Oh. Sorry. I should let you go before someone sees you. I need to get back to the tryout anyway.”