Chapter 5: Chapter Five

Adler POV:

Can I get pregnant on my period?

I stared at my phone in awe. Have these people heard of Google? On the other hand, took a sex-ed class? These were questions eight graders asked when first learning where everything went. At least I thought.

It’s rare to get pregnant during your period but yes you can.

I rolled over to my back.

Ding.

Should I ask my boyfriend that’s been active to get a STD test before I sleep with him?

Unless you want to take a ride on the herpes train. I rolled my eyes. Has the student population lost their common sense? This is the twenty-first century, and we have tons of ways to stay safe. Why risk it?

Absolutely. It’s your right.

I waited a few minutes before putting my phone down to breathe. The distant sound of Dad and Mrs. Shana watching an Avenger movie played from downstairs. Chris Hemsworth sounded tempting.

Ledela’s Dad forced her to go to her grandmother’s eighty-year-old birthday party this weekend, so with my lack of social skills, it meant I was stuck inside on a Saturday night.

The idea to play Mario World on the Wii U with Huxley surfaced, but I wasn’t sure. He’d been distant since our encounter in my room. Huxley had been many things over the years, but nosey wasn’t one of them, and the hip grab? What the heck was that? The look on his face afterward told me it freaked him out.

I didn’t know what to think about it. It was an accident, right? We lived together and bumped into each other all the time. That made sense, but his attitude toward it, and ignoring me afterwards didn’t.

The boy tickled me until I peed on myself once, I didn’t get it.

He even skipped supper.

Not in the six years I'd known him had he missed supper, besides the one time he had the stomach virus.

Weird.

Ding.

I sighed and reached for my phone.

Liam’s number skated across the top and my heart plummeted. It was a bad idea, I knew it, but I couldn’t help the urge to text him back.

Him: You up?

Me: Yeah. What’s up?

Him: Playing Call of Duty online and thinking about that joke you told me last night. We stayed up excessively late.

Which was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have texted him that long. A day into the scam I had enough information to send to Jacee, but I liked the attention from him. No boys besides Huxley and my dad text my phone. You could call it a desert most nights, and the weekends were no different. Sue me for liking the attention.

Me: We did. I hope your brother finally went to sleep and stopped singing Baby Shark.

Huxley’s TV turned off at nine-thirty, which was a record on a Saturday night. I wanted to check on him, but I didn’t. He made it too weird. I’d check on him in the morning, so we’d have time to get over the awkwardness.

Him: He did around ten o’ clock. What did you end up doing with your friend?

Talk about you and my secret identity that would screw this entire thing up.

Me: Stayed up and watched 90 Day Fiancé. Anything exciting happen today?

I got up and changed into my nightshirt, and un-tucked my hair as I glanced at myself in the mirror. I’d never been ashamed of my looks but seeing Liam’s physique made me want to look better. I didn’t think I was ugly by any means. My body resembled more of a junior high student than a high schooler but hopefully I’d grow into it one day.

In seventh grade I made out a list for Santa and bigger boobs was number one. Until Huxley ruined it for me and told me Dad was Santa. Good thing I didn’t ask. I grabbed my phone and glanced at the text across the screen.

Him: My girlfriend broke up with me.

I gasped. Jacee received the screenshots. She didn’t tell him it was Miss Play Your Man obviously, or he would have known and ripped me a new butthole. This should be the end of our conversation.

Put the phone down and delete your app.

Just let it go like Elsa.

I bit my bottom lip, staring into the abyss of my phone screen. The deal was to see if they would cheat, and be finished with them, but I liked Liam. Would it hurt to continue for just a bit?

I sighed.

Me: So sorry! Did she say why?

Him: Nah, said she couldn’t trust me.

Me: Are you trustable?

Didn’t I already know that answer? He started a conversation with a random stranger a little too easily. If I were his girlfriend, I wouldn’t appreciate him falling into a conversation with a random girl this easily, though I’d never had a boyfriend to base the theory.

Him: Why are you asking?

Panic set in. I felt guilt. It always happened to me. The heavy pressure started on my chest, and it ate my insides like a tiny monster hyped on Red Bull.

Me: I have to go. Talk to you later? Dad is calling.

Him: Okay, don’t forget to answer that question. I’m waiting.

I shut off my screen, and crawled into my bed, curling into a ball with a smile on my face. The lonely part of me loved that he waited on me to text back, the sane part told me to end it before it started.

***

Sunday rolled into Monday with the same distance from Huxley as Saturday. Dad and Mrs. Shana didn’t seem worried that he kept to himself, so I didn’t bring it up.

I tried to check on him Sunday morning, but he yelled that he didn’t feel good. Well, I didn’t buy it. I wanted to get to the bottom of this and I would.

His pickup was gone from the driveway when I left for school that morning. Sure, it stung to think Huxley was ignoring me, because it wasn’t his style. Normally he tickled me until I gave in to talking to him.

The silent treatment wasn’t Huxley.

Something was wrong.

I was going to find out.

The warning bell rang as I shut my locker door. Ledela’s over the top laugh rang from down the hallway and I caught up with her while she chatted with two upperclassmen.

I tugged at my too tight Post Malone T-shirt that Ledela suggested I wear, with a pair of ‘not mommy jeans’ and groaned as it bunched against the top of my pants.

“Morning,” I said.

Ledela tugged me closer to her. The smell of her mother’s fancy perfume wafted over me. Momma Taj would bury Ledela six feet under if she knew.

“This is my bestie Adler Ray.”

The two senior girls looked much older than eighteen with Kylie Jenner lips, and perfectly quaffed bobs. I’d die for their boobs, but God gave me these sad ones for a reason.

“They were just asking about Miss Play Your Man.” Ledela kept an unnatural smile while talking, elbowing me to speak.

I kept my smile small, but panic thumped on the inside.

“Do you know who she is?” Kendal, I thought was her name, asked.

“No idea. Weird though, right?” I said.

She pushed her hair over her shoulder. “I think it’s rad she has the balls to do it. We saw Ledela’s blog post about it, but she said the questions were answered anonymously.”

“Oh, darn,” I said, snapping my fingers.

“Yeah, well, thanks anyway,” the other girl said before they left.

Ledela squealed and did a hop while grabbing my hands. Her blinged out T-shirt bounced with her. “Can you believe Kendall and Sam just spoke to me? And that my followers have tripled since the post?”

“Awesome, Led. That’s great!”

She calmed herself. “So, how’s it going with Liam?”

“Ugh, surprisingly good, but Jacee—” the final bell rang, “talk about it at lunch?” I offered.

“Absolutely. See you.”

Lunch rolled around and I felt myself feeling free that no one would suspect me. Ledela slid into our normal spot. “I heard that Jacee broke up with Liam.”

I opened my premade sandwich. “Yeah, he told me—or Miss Anonymous—last night. Seems crazy, right? Now I feel like I need to stop texting him. It feels wrong.”

Ledela frowned. “No one would know. You could wait long enough to tell him who you are. Then no one would suspect you were Miss Play Your Man.”

I took a bite, my gaze jumped down the cafeteria. Liam sat by himself, texting with Huxley’s seat empty across from him.

Missing meals again? Very strange.

“Where is Huxley today?” she asked.

“I don’t know, that’s something else I want advice about.”

“Huxley? Since when?” she asked, opening her protein shake.

“He has been ignoring me.”

Ledela looked taken aback. “Huxley? No way. Why?”

“I’m not sure. He came to check on me Saturday and interrogated me about the other play my man request, which is weird because he’s never been so nosey before. It’s like he can’t stand not knowing.”

“Well, you do normally tell him stuff, maybe he feels left out?”

“Maybe, but it’s just weird.”

Ledela shook up her drink. “I agree. It is weird.”

“And not just that, he, uh, he brushed against my hip and started acting weirder. I tried to talk to him, but he distanced himself from me. Hasn’t shown up to supper and left before I did. Even told me he didn’t feel good when I knocked on his door. Normally he would bribe me to go get him some Sprite or soup, he wouldn’t even open the door, Led.”

Ledela’s mouth popped opened. “He brushed against you? Y’all live together, I’m sure y’all touch often?”

“Sure we do, but this was different. Maybe it embarrassed him?”

“Huxley, embarrassed? Doubt it.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m going to find out today what’s wrong.”

“Good idea, and in the meantime,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Miss Play Your Man time.”

I groaned. “You wouldn’t believe the questions I’ve been getting.”

Ledela laughed. “It makes me glad that I’m not the only clueless one in this school. Everyone pretends to know so much but we’re all idiots.”

I snorted loudly on my juice, catching it with my palm. Ledela laughed but my eyes caught Liam’s down the table. Heat washed me from the inside out. His dark eyes were always intense regardless of his smirk.

Ledela’s groan drew my attention from Liam to her snarl. “What is it?” I asked, following her gaze.

Jamieson sat in Dayton’s lap, playing with his hair and scratching the scruff on his face, which wasn’t that impressive and resembled a ninth grader desperately trying to grow a beard, but who asked me?

“Don’t worry about them,” I said, waving her off. “He isn’t worth it. Another girl will catch his eye and he’ll be onto the next one.”

“She’s trying to piss me off,” Ledela said.

I glanced back. Jamieson watched us both over Dayton’s head with a smile. “She’s probably pissed off that you shoved her out of the way during the dance, Ledela.”

She gave me a Cheshire grin. “It was worth every minute. I’m still the better dancer.”

“I should show them again,” she said, starting to stand up.

“Uh, no you shouldn’t,” I said, grabbing her arm to pull her down. “This isn’t the 80s and no one really has impromptu sing-alongs and dances in real life.”

She laughed. “You’re right. High School Musical killed it for us. It could have been a thing.”

“No, it couldn’t have.”

Ledela laughed and tossed her straw paper at me. “What would I do without a wise friend to keep me from doing stupid stuff?”

“Have a dance battle in the middle of the lunchroom.”

She grinned. “And you’d be doing your homework instead of answering awesomely funny advice questions from this website. Speaking of,” she cleared her throat.

Should I tell my boyfriend that he isn’t getting me off, and I’ve been faking it?

We both laughed again, this time I felt a bit of my anxiety leave my shoulders.

I wiped the corner of my eye when I noticed Liam waving at me.

“Where is Huxley?” he mouthed.

And there it was again. The only reason he spoke to me, ever, was to ask about Huxley. He had no idea he was texting with me, and it hurt my gut a bit. Here I was, head over heels for him, and he probably imagined Miss Anonymous being his equivalent or even cuter than the upperclassmen from earlier.

I shrugged and mouthed, “Don’t know.”

And neither do you.

***

Dad and Mrs. Shana decided to attend a couple’s night at a local bar downtown for the evening. Mrs. Shana would never leave us without food, so the kitchen table held chicken and cheese casserole with garlic bread.

I found myself eating on the couch, legs tucked beneath me, using the arm as a table. I’d slipped my phone inside my backpack on my bed because I thought I might die of radiation if it vibrated one more time.

The new Avengers movie played on TV, but I’d already seen it. When four-thirty rolled around, I propped my laptop against the couch pillow and started watching Ledela’s video blog.

She started a makeup tutorial and I inwardly groaned. How many times could one girl go over the importance of primer and not baking beneath your eye?

Huxley came home from football practice shortly after, shirt hanging over his shoulder, sweaty hair stuck to a perfectly symmetrical forehead. His football pants were unbutton but hanging over his hips in a way I was sure girls drooled over.

To be honest, Huxley was sexy.

In a teen heartthrob kind-of-way, the guy that ended up breaking the girl’s heart so she turned to her best friend that loved her the entire time. He was the heartbreaker, by far.

And he knew it.

“Hey, Poops,” he said, avoiding eye contact. At least he spoke to me, which was better than the silent treatment over the weekend.

“Mrs. Shana made that casserole you like,” I said.

“Where are they?” he asked, walking into the kitchen to grab a plate.

“A couple’s night at a bar downtown.”

“Hmm,” he said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him fix his plate and grab a water bottle from the refrigerator. I pretended to eat while he contemplated where to sit.

“Come sit down,” I said, turning up the movie.

He sat on the opposite side of the couch, legs spread wide, dirtying up his mom’s couch since she wasn’t there to object. “Where were you at lunch today?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“In the library. I had homework to do.”

That was a lie. Huxley could find a thousand people in our school to do his homework for him, and he wasn’t above asking a cute girl to do it.

“Hmm.”

Huxley narrowed his gaze and glanced over at me. “Hmm what? I can’t do homework?”

I shrugged. “Since when do you do homework?”

“I’m not stupid.”

Wow where did that come from?

“I didn’t say that.”

This conversation was heading south quickly. Huxley’s hand tightened around his plate and the other gripped the arm of the couch. His narrowed green eyes, and the throbbing vein in his forehead, told me how pissed he was about it.

“I just don’t see you do homework in school, no one called you stupid, Huxley. I don’t think—”

“Yeah, you do, because you just said it.”

Swallowing a bite of food, I cleared my throat. “Did something happen to you? Why are you taking out all of this hostility on me?”

He scoffed, lowering his gaze to his plate, and back up to me. “I’m not. I don’t appreciate you saying I don’t do my work.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

He leaned back against the couch and continued eating. I felt the tension settling between us like a snake ready to strike.

“The website is going good,” I said. “Tons of requests. I even had someone ask how to win your heart.”

He didn’t respond.

“I told her to ignore you, most guys like that—”

“So you think I’m just another douchebag in the school?”

Huxley stood up, putting his plate on the table to look down at me like a child. “Since we’re already talking about it, what else do you think about me, Adler? You think I’m stupid and a player? Do you think I’d date rape a girl in college, or get arrested for embellishment after I graduate?”

What the … “Since when do you care what I think at all?” I asked, standing up because I felt too small beneath him.

Huxley’s gaze dropped to my mouth, and I figured I had chicken stuck in my teeth, gross.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I do care,” was all he said before grabbing his plate and going upstairs.

***

The first part of school went by in a blur of text messages and random overheard conversations about the website. Huxley left before me, leaving a bad taste in my mouth about our conversation the night before.

I couldn’t believe that he cared what I thought. He’d been in his feelings lately and it wasn’t like him.

So when lunch came and he was nowhere around, I figured I’d catch him in gym, hopefully.

Unlike Coach Carter’s usual five-minute tardiness with a burrito and PowerAde in hand, she waited for us underneath the basketball goal. Most likely due to Ledela’s impromptu dodgeball game last week.

Today, she held an actual dodgeball in her hand.

Ledela clasped her pocket makeup mirror and mumbled, “Uh-oh.”

“Alright kids, half of you on this side, and the other half stay where you’re at. Since you kids like to play dodgeball, I thought I’d give you an actual game.”

This was definitely conjured up in her cauldron last night.

She started going through the rules while I looked for Huxley through the crowd on both sides. He stood on my team, but toward the opposite sideline of the court, hands interlaced on the back of his neck.

He wasn’t looking at me, and I knew it was on purpose.

Unfortunately, my wave and hop didn’t get his attention. Go figure. Even my loud whispers went unacknowledged.

“Go!”

Everyone ran to the center of the court and grabbed their balls, me last because my lack of concentration. The two football players on the other team started nailing people in the head. I watched in horror as Ledela’s ponytail whipped around her face and she fell to her butt.

Her face said it all.

Like the Grinch, I slunk behind the first line of people, trying to make it to Huxley. He stood toward the center of the court, nailing the opposing team as if it were the national championship.

Grunts echoed against the old concrete gym walls as I shrunk down behind everyone to save myself. One of the female tennis players started using her backhand to ward off the balls, but brawn always wins, and she sunk to the floor with a loud oomph.

“Huxley,” I yelled, trying to gain his attention.

He ignored me, taking out what seemed like bottled up frustration on the other team.

Before I knew it, Buzz tossed the ball at me, and I fell onto all fours. Stars danced along my eyes, while Ledela dragged me to the safety of the sidelines.

“Can you hear me?” she asked.

“Daddy?” I asked with a grin.

She laughed when a loud ‘ohhhh’ rang over the group of kids.

Everyone jumped up and started pointing at someone on the court. I palmed my head while climbing to my feet. Buzz sat in the middle of the court, snarling at Huxley.

Not again.

Coach Carter sat on a bench in the far corner, sneaking a bite of a burrito, but hopped up before the situation escalated.

“Alright, alright,” she said, grabbing Huxley’s arm. “Winner.”

Our team yelled but I didn’t see the big deal. Now if she offered a day off from gym, I’d yell for that.

“Hit the showers early,” she said. “That was entertaining. Maybe we’ll try it again soon.”

Maybe I could accidentally hit her in the head next time. That would take away the entertainment.

I gathered my clothes, trying to chase Huxley as he exited the gym and walked toward the main building.

“Hux!”

He seemed to get faster, pushing past the double doors in a jog down the hallway.

Aggravation swarmed me.

“Huxley!” I screamed. “Stop!”

I shouldn’t have been surprised because he never listened before.

I slammed against the swinging doors and into the bathroom, grabbing his elbow. He turned to face me. “What is wrong with you?” I asked. “I’ve been yelling at you, and I know you heard me.”

“You need to get out—”

“No, tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been ignoring me for days. What did I do to you? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings last night. Does this have to do with you brushing against me, or the homework incident? Hux, you’re my brother.”

His green eyes looked right through me.

I threw my hands into the air, the unscrewed water bottle I held with my stuff, dripped onto the floor.

Distant laughter brought me back from my angry state. I realized too late that I stood in the front of the boy’s locker-room.

The bathrooms opened up into a large room, with showers and rows of metal lockers, and benches separating them.

I cringed. That’s why he told me to leave.

I opened my mouth to say sorry, but saliva stuck in my throat. Huxley’s eyes seared me in half. Why was this happening between us? We’d always got along in the past.

Liam walked toward the doorjamb, no shirt, staring at the two of us.

“Huxley, I’ve been looking for you.” His brows pulled down in the middle. “Adler? What the hell?”

What the hell was right?

I salivated like a dog in mid-July. Cheese and crackers, he looks good. Better than I imagined. Where Huxley was lean and muscular, Liam was big like a college football player. His light hair stood out against a tanned chest from the Texas sun.

I felt wet—not in the sense of getting busy, but my foot—why was it wet?

Slowly, I glanced down, and noticed my water bottle spilling onto my tennis shoes. I turned it up right, feeling my entire body engulf into flames.

“Adler,” Huxley hissed. “Get out!” What alien came and took my stepbrother.

A few guys watched as I awkwardly slithered my way out of the locker room and into the florescent-lit hallway.

Way to go, Adler. You spilled water over your shoes, salivated like an animal, and got nothing out of Huxley. Why don’t you go trip over the fountain in the courtyard while you’re at it?

It might be less embarrassing.