My Clueless Broken Heart (School Dayz #3) Read online

  “That’s no surprise. Your shooting power is awesome.”

  My cheeks warm so much that I need to hold the phone away from my face. “You’ve only watched me practice in the backyard.”

  His laugh ripples through the phone. “And you always kick my ass.”

  “In real life, I’m just a lowly midfielder. Val’s the league’s leading scorer. And we’re the smallest division in the state, so the competition isn’t exactly Olympic caliber. Really more of a glorified intramural league.”

  “Doesn’t matter, you still get your name on a big championship banner hanging in the gym. So, when’s the game?”

  “This Saturday, at the Central State Arena.”

  “That’s only ten minutes from here. I’m working, though.”

  “No worries. Gran and Avery will be there. The school’s running buses to fill up our half of the stadium. Like I said, it’s not really a big deal.”

  Travis scoffs through the phone. “Are you kidding me? State champs are huge. When’s the last time Harmony won a soccer title?”

  “Actually, the girls’ team has never won state.”

  “There you go, soccer star. I’ll call you Sunday. What time will you be rolling out of bed after your victory party?”

  ***

  Saturday morning, I hop off the team bus and hustle to the field, filled with pregame excitement. The fiery autumn sun blazes overhead, granting one last gasp of warmth before the sharp bite of winter takes over. Val and I set our water bottles and equipment bags on the bench before rolling into our warm-ups.

  After we finish our standard stretching routine, followed by high knees and lunges, Coach blows her whistle. “Line up for intros, girl.”

  “Intros, Becca! We’re famous!” Val’s twin braids bounce as she does a happy dance on the state-of-the art synthetic grass. A booming voice rolls each of our names over the loudspeaker. At the sound of ‘Beccaaaaaaa Thornnnnnn-ton,’ a cheer erupts from the visitor’s side of the stadium. I jog onto the field, high fiving down the line, Super Bowl-style.

  The opposing team is announced after us. The defending state champions, also known as the Lady Lions from Pittsburgh, make the game a true cross-state match-up.

  “I think we should’ve spent extra time in the weight room,” Val remarks as we stand on the sidelines, scoping out our competition. Her eyes widen when she notices the tall, muscular girl standing at the centerfield, prepared to steamroll our front line.

  “We got this.” I pump confidence into my voice, toss my water bottle on the bench and stride on the turf to take my position. At the whistle, the Lions’ center forward taps left. The player on the wing receives the ball, but misses her mark, kicking right to me. As soon as the ball hits my cleat, I shift my foot around to prevent a steal and dribble past a girl who’s charging me like a runaway freight train. By the time she stops and changes direction, I’m beyond her reach, weaving between two midfielders, and passing to Val, who boots the ball toward the net. The goalie guesses right, and dives for a perfect save.

  “Defense wins championships,” a pigtailed, snub-nosed, girl taunts Val. Big mistake. Val never takes criticism well, especially not on the soccer field. Pigtail girl might be eating fake grass the next time she comes near either of us.

  As we retreat to midfield, Val and I glance at each other, mentally telegraphing our revised game plan. For now, we’ll lie low and ease up on our attack. We’ve played together long enough that Coach Dani trusts us to take control of the offense when the opportunity presents itself.

  After ten minutes of back and forth non-event plays, I nab another possession, duck an illegal elbow and dribble downfield.

  “Becca Thornton on the breakaway,” the announcer booms. Thanks for telling everyone, you jerk. I cross midfield and pass up the sideline to Val, who flashes right by pigtail girl and shoots high into the corner of the net. The goalie leaps in the air, but the ball sails over her fingertips.

  A roar from the crowd seizes hold of the atmosphere, rolling down from the top of the bleachers. The Harmony pep band springs to life, launching its Girls on Fire mashup. Val and I hug it out in the center of the field, jumping up and down with our teammates until the referee blows the whistle, threatening to penalize us for unsportswomanlike conduct.

  To ratchet down our enthusiasm and shift the focus back to the game, Coach calls for subs. “Rest up. We need speed to win today,” she admonishes Val and me.

  I collapse on the bench with my water bottle and scan the bleachers for Gran and Avery. Directly behind our team bench, halfway to the clouds, my sister waves and flashes a sign with my number on it.

  Sitting next to her is Travis.

  “What’s wrong?” Val asks, catching my double take.

  “Travis is here.”

  “No way! You said he was working.” She follows my line of vision and waves to her family, sitting behind mine.

  “That’s what he told me.” I blink and look again. Travis gives me a thumbs up. Cue my dorky smile, along with a fireball of energy boosting me up from the bench. I pace the sidelines, staring down Coach until she subs me back on to the field.

  Thanks to my Travis-sighting-induced power-up, the level of my game rises up to World Cup level. Val scores three more goals, I earn two assists, and the Harmony Trailblazers win the state championship four to one. When the final buzzer sounds, everyone from our side of the bleachers mobs the field. The league commissioner hands Coach Dani a three-foot-tall trophy, which she passes to Val and me. Together, we heft the golden soccer ball in the air, to the delight of local TV camera crews.

  Looking out into the sea of smiling faces, my heart stutters for a few beats. Parents are everywhere, hugging and kissing their daughters, both the winners and the losers. I wish my mom and dad could see me now. But the wish in my head disappears when I remember the three people who did take time out of their busy lives to cheer for me. When Heather, our goalie, edges closer, I place her hand on the trophy and take off in search of Avery, Gran, and Travis.

  When I find them at the edge of the crowd, Gran extends her arms for a hug. She’s positively beaming. “Ten years of standing on the sidelines is finally worth all the frostbite.”

  Avery hops up and down like her legs are made of springs. “You’re the best mid-receiver player ever!”

  “Midfielder,” I correct her, the same way I do every time she shows up at one of my games.

  “Sure, whatever,” she says. “And you and Val are only juniors. You can repeat next year.”

  When I turn to Travis, the party going on around us seems to fade away.

  He lightly punches my arm. “Three assists, not bad for a mid-receiver,” he says, destroying any fleeting hope I had of a romantic moment.

  I raise my hand to rub the spot where he touched me. “Thanks. I thought you were working.”

  “I switched hours with one of the guys. Was this a good surprise?”

  I stretch my arms around him, aching for his touch. I need physical contact to prove he’s real. “The absolute best surprise ever,” I whisper into his leather jacket. “Sorry I’m all sweaty, though.”

  “I’m counting on your sweaty hug to get me through a night of no sleep. My double shift starts in an hour.” When he smiles down on me, heat flows from every point where our bodies touch.

  “You should go, then.” I press up on my toes to kiss him, right in front of everyone, forgetting my usual rule against public displays. He tugs my ponytail as a farewell gesture, waves to Gran and Avery, and in a blink, he’s lost in the crowd.

  ***

  The week before finals, I psych myself up to tell Travis not to call. He should focus on exams. But he laughs at my half-hearted suggestion.

  “I’m pulling all-nighters here, Becca. The ten minutes I spend on the phone with you won’t make a difference.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to distract you.”

  “No, distract me. I’m sitting in this damn lab trying to harvest slime mold. I th
ink everyone in my class waited until the night before the results were due.”

  “Okay, that’s gross.” I switch off my bedside lamp. In the dark, I can almost feel Travis lying next to me. “Do you think about me when you harvest mold?” I ask in what I hope is a sexy voice.

  “I’m always thinking about you. If I didn’t have to keep my GPA above 3.5 for my scholarship, I’d waste all day thinking about you.”

  I wish I could hug Travis through my phone. “You never told me you have a scholarship.”

  “Partial scholarship. Barely enough to cover my lab fees.”

  “In that case, don’t let me stop you from growing disgusting moldy stuff. I’ll see you after finals.”

  “Finals, then one extra day of work to cover my gas money. And I need to pick up your presents.”

  “Do you have a cooler to store my ice cream?”

  “No. Too much trouble. I decided to get you something else.”

  Shoot. Avery and I need to make one more mall run. “What is it? Give me a hint. Wait—did you say presents? As in more than one?”

  “Maybe. You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “But I can’t wait. I love presents. Especially more than one present from the same person.”

  “So, is that the only reason you want to see me?”

  “Not the only reason, but I’d say one of the top five.”

  “You have a list? I want to hear the other four.”

  Before we hang up, I tell him a few things to take his mind off slime mold.

  ***

  I beg Avery to help me shop for Travis, but she’s busy with her daily rehearsals for The Nutcracker. It’s ballet crunch time and she’s mastering her chasses and glissades. But if I know Travis, (and I think I do), he’s bringing home the perfect gift for me. I can’t hand him some dumb T-shirt.

  The pressure is slowly killing me.

  I roam the mall, checking out electronics, because all boys like electronics, right? But Travis doesn’t strike me as a gamer. He’s not a serious athlete either, although he plays basketball and apparently, some version of muddy football. What does Travis do when he’s not studying or talking to me? Finally, it dawns on me. Travis works. He’s always helping his dad around our house and he even has a job at college. He wants to be a doctor and help people.

  On a mission, I sidestep clothing racks and people wearing ugly Christmas sweaters, ducking between department store holiday displays. Panic sets in. Over a stupid present.

  Travis absolutely cannot discover how little I know about him. Not when he seems to know everything about me. I stop by a book shop and wander around the health and science section, avoiding anything related to monkeys, fighting hard to block my parents from my mind.

  Gazing at the thick anatomy books, I consider closing my eyes, and buying the first one I touch. I yank a random text from the shelf and nearly vomit. Yuck. Can I really give Travis a romantic Christmas gift filled with pictures of naked people? I mean, they’re not even good pictures.

  I shove the book back in place and slide to the left. An MCAT study guide might not encourage my desired behavior—if he likes it too much, I’ll never see him when he comes home. Moving on. I page through a supposedly humorous graphic-novel about two guys and a girl surviving medical school. To be honest, I don’t get any of the jokes. Hopefully Travis will find something about it funny and appreciate my effort.

  After paying for the book, I ask myself what if, after spending months reading scientific texts and writing lab reports, Travis doesn’t want to look at anything medical-related over winter break?

  How can shopping for someone you’ve known practically your whole life be so incredibly hard?

  It’s just Travis.

  On a whim, I run in the gift shop next to the bookstore and pick up a picture frame. Because he said presents, not present. He spoke in plural. I’ll ask Avery to snap a photo of Travis and me before Christmas and he can take it back to school. Once my gift issues are settled, I breathe a huge sigh of relief and begin my winter break countdown. With Travis back in the carriage house, and my parents still half a world away, nothing can ruin my holidays.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next week ranks as the longest seven-day period in recorded history. I swear I could have celebrated four Christmases and a couple of Valentine’s Days by the time Friday rolls around.

  I speed home from school, jamming along to the beat of holiday rock music blasting from the car radio. My old clunker might be on the verge of cranking out its last hundred miles, but the audio system is stellar. When I turn on to our drive, I skid to a stop and back-up at the sight of Travis’s truck. My heart pounds as I kill the engine and run toward my house, fighting the urge to run to him, ultimately deciding it’s perhaps a good idea to at least glance in a mirror.

  Oddly, the kitchen is deserted and dark. Gran loves to keep the pendant lights suspended over the island as bright as the blazing desert sun. I run my hand over the cool copper tea kettle and check for empty mugs in the sink, but find none. A glance at the wall calendar reminds me of the date. Crap. It’s my grandparents’ wedding anniversary.

  I follow the tinny sound of a wedding march and find Gran on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, staring at grainy black and white videos playing on the TV. I freeze in the doorway, unsure. Should I join Gran in her misery or would she prefer to wallow alone? In some ways, the holidays suck around here. Not that Gran complains. But she’s just … sad. She misses Granddad. She tries to cover it up with decorations and presents, but it never quite works out.

  My phone buzzes in a message.

  Travis: You there?

  Becca: Just got in.

  Travis: Be right over.

  I backtrack into the kitchen. Travis smiles when I throw open the door and my heart melts. Tears sting my eyes and I turn away, hiding my mushiness. Holy crap. I’m not even PMS-ing and I’m a mess. For a second Travis’s face says “whoa,” which makes me laugh.

  “Everything okay?” His eyes sweep around the dark kitchen and I nearly tear up again. Travis knows us well enough to notice something’s not right.

  “I’ve missed you,” is all I say.

  He turns back to me and opens his arms. “I know.”

  I press my cheek to his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. “Today is Gran’s wedding anniversary. I forgot all about it.”

  He pulls back, maintaining a solid grip around my waist. “Is she upset?”

  “She’s sitting in the other room zoning out in front of her wedding video. I haven’t talked to her yet.”

  Travis spins me around, pointing me in Gran’s direction. “Go talk to her. I’ll call you in an hour.”

  I reach back and grab his hand. “Come with me. You knew Granddad.”

  We spend two hours watching old videos. At some point Avery joins our little party. The four of us tell our favorite Granddad stories until darkness sets in and the only light in the house is coming from the old videos playing on the television. Travis reveals a never-before known secret about my grandfather and his dad building a hidden putting green behind the carriage house.

  “And to think your father looked me straight in the eye and said an animal must have destroyed the grass back there.” Gran huffs. “Wait until I see him.”

  After Travis yawns for the hundredth time, still reeling from his overnight shift at work, I walk him out.

  “Sorry for the depressing start to the holidays,” I say.

  “You’d do the same for me,” is all he says. And he’s right. I totally would. He stifles another yawn before continuing. “For the next three weeks I have nothing to do but be with you.”

  I lean against the door frame. “I’ll be helping Gran and studying for finals, so being with me may not always be fun.”

  His sleepy eyes perk up when he grins. “There’s no way this winter break’s going to suck. Leave it to me. I’ll find a way for us to have fun.”

  When he kisses me goodbye, I can see the potenti
al.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After a full day ballet rehearsal, Avery prances in the kitchen and catches me watching Travis push snow off our walkway.

  “Move away from the window. You’re too obvious.” When she taps me on the shoulder, I jump. “Also, I have scoop for you.” She drops her pink gym bag on the floor.

  “Scoop? What did you find out?” I wait until Travis disappears inside his house before giving her my full attention.

  She twirls around the island. “Well, as you know, Travis went out with a lot of girls last year, but he did have a girlfriend for a while. Chelsea Reed.”

  “Chelsea was his girlfriend?” So, she’s not just a natural grump. She has reasons.

  “Yeah, you know her? Her sister Bethany is the Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker. Look for her name in the program. She’s awesome in her toe shoes. Tall and thin, a perfect dancer’s body.”

  I grab Avery by the shoulders before she launches into another round of arabesques. “Forget Bethany. Tell me about Chelsea.”

  “Oh, right. Chelsea. Travis dumped her right after graduation. Said it was because they were going to different schools, blah, blah, blah, but Bethany thinks her sister is still hung up on him.”

  “Like she wants to get back together?” My grip on Avery tightens.

  “Ouch, Becca. Can you let me go?”

  “Sorry, but I met Chelsea over Thanksgiving weekend. She stared at me. It was … uncomfortable.”

  “Yeah, Bethany said Chelsea thought Travis was her one and only true love, but she realizes she was probably wrong about that, especially since he’s seeing someone else now. Some hot, younger chick.”

  “Oh,” I say, unable to hold back a triumphant smile.