Chapter Three

Adler POV:

I felt like I should be standing on Harry Heights bent over into a grandpa’s pickup with no intentions of making friends.

I shouldn’t have let Ledela talk me into a makeover, I’d been dodging it for years, but this gave her an in. Being without a mother until I was twelve had effected the makeup department. I never saw my mom put on her makeup in the mirror or watched her get dolled up.

I was knee deep in mud, while my dad fished down the bank. I liked that about myself.

Once Mrs. Shana appeared, I was too far-gone. She was pretty, but not even her gentle urges could make me budge.

Her son on the other hand, oh her son, was ultimately the reason I gave in.

I should have known asking Huxley for help would end in him ruining my life. He lived for it. Sure, I could have said no to the website, but his smug grin crawled under my skin and laid tiny baby eggs of self-doubt. He always did that. Dared me to do something out of my comfort zone, which led to me sitting in algebra II with a skirt on, and the guy next to me having trouble looking away from my legs.

Half way into class, he leaned over and asked, “Are you new?”

Seriously? Show some leg and everyone notices, show some brain and no one thinks twice.

“Yes,” I lied. “I’m from Brazil.”

His eyes lit up.

Idiot.

I made it through the day with little dignity left. It wasn’t that I hated my body or my looks. I thought I was cute, but it felt better to hide it underneath jeans and overly large hoodies, than flaunt it to anyone who would look.

I slung my backpack into the passenger seat of my Honda and slid into the driver’s seat. A group of junior girls I’d known since Kindergarten stared my way, whispering to one another. Which was odd, I’d never drawn their attention before. I’d actually gone to a few sleepovers with them during elementary.

I waved but they began to whisper.

Hmm.

I started my engine when someone knocked on my car window. Genevieve Daniels, a junior girl adamant on getting to my house, stood on the other side.

Slowly, I rolled down my window. “Yes?” I asked.

“So, I really need your help.”

Here we go again …

“Genevieve,” I said. “You’re not coming over to my house. Just ask Huxley out on a date.”

“I did last semester. He said no.”

“Then I don’t see the problem,” I said with a shrug. “Huxley isn’t worth this amount of time.”

“He is,” she whispered.

I didn’t see it. Huxley was jock material, and maybe he would mature and make a decent man when he hit thirty, but now, she could be doing something better with her time than fawning over him.

“Maybe if you took the time you spend plotting to get this guy, and study for Spanish, you wouldn’t need my help with homework.”

Genevieve huffed. “They were right, you’re probably a lesbian, and just don’t get it.”

She walked off, joining her friends in front of the school’s administration building. I shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

I drove straight home to see Huxley made it before me. Their coach didn’t make them practice the day before a game.

I debated crawling up the trellis to my window to avoid him, and his laughing at my makeover, but it didn’t matter. He’d hang it over my head regardless.

I felt immediate relief when I walked inside and unbuckled my strappy sandals. I took them off and carried them in my free hand. Mrs. Shana stood in the kitchen over a box of pizza with a mouth-opening gawk.

“Adler? Were you wearing that this morning?”

I cringed. “No, I finally let Ledela give me a makeover.”

She grinned and opened the pizza box. “You look great either way. I ordered pizza because your dad and I are going to go to that Italian place downtown to eat. I’m meeting him there in thirty minutes.”

She stopped on her way to the bedroom. “Will you text me if Huxley leaves?” she whispered.

I didn’t like to be in-between their drama. “Yes ma’am.”

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Adler, did you meet a boy?”

Heat bloomed underneath my cheeks. She thought my new outfit was to impress a boy. Any boy that needed a new outfit to impress him wasn’t worth my time.

“No,” I said.

“Okay, well, if there is, I’m here if you have any questions.”

I gave her a tightlipped grin, and grabbed the cheese pizza box, which was mine since Huxley liked supreme, and walked up the stairs to my room.

Mrs. Shana tried hard to make a connection with me, and I truly appreciated and loved her. However, I did not want to play makeup and go shopping for hours.

Maybe I could suggest she go with Ledela when her mother had to work late? I’ll add that to my list of ways to get out of shopping.

Huxley’s door was cracked, and I noticed he sat in front of his computer. I prayed he’d forgotten about the website and decided to do his own work.

The floor creaked underneath me, and he turned to catch me peeping into his room. His smile made my stomach turn. Before he could harass me, I pushed opened my door, and walked toward my bed.

Pizza sounded good after a long day of fighting off perverts. The guy in math hadn’t been the last. I tossed my sandals into my closet and crawled over my bed to eat.

I finished my homework in study hall sixth period, so a night of watching 90 Day Fiancé and pizza sounded great. There was nothing better than watching the train wrecks on this show to get you in the dating spirit. Maybe Ledela could write a blog on what not to do and base it off this TV series.

I laughed to myself.

“What are you laughing at?”

Huxley didn’t bother knocking. He held his opened laptop against his forearm and his free hand braced against my doorjamb. “I’m laughing at Genevieve’s thousandth attempt to come over here. Put her out of her misery and take her out.”

“She asked to come over again?” he asked. “Maybe I’ll set her up with somebody on the team. So, how is your new look going for you? Was it all you wanted it to be?”

I jammed a slice of pizza into my mouth and watched him with unimpressed eyes. “I’m eating.”

“Like always,” he said, shutting the door with his foot. “I have a surprise for my sweet sister.”

He placed the website in front of me. The mouth full of pizza I was about to swallow hung in my throat. Huxley slammed his fist against my back in an attempt to save me.

“Oh my God!” I screamed.

Huxley lifted a dark brow. “What? It looks just like you.”

The website itself was simple and easy to maneuver. An aviator of me—yeah the me with a short jean skirt and makeup—leaned against the title of Miss Play Your Man at the top.

A brief description of our services sat mid-page.

Need relationship advice?

Do you have questions about the next big step?

Or do you have a shady boyfriend, and you need to know if he’ll cheat? Message me. It’s confidential, anonymous, and works every time.

At the top of the website, three tabs sat with the different services I offered.

Relationship advice.

Questions about sex.

And my favorite … Play the player.

Vomit climbed my throat. I couldn’t do this. I was no relationship guru or player expert, and Huxley knew it. Ledela knew it. I had some good advice sometimes when certain situations came about.

Unfortunately, my pride—the devilish woman on my shoulder—would not let me turn this down. Not to mention the website looked professional and much better than I could have ever done.

Despite his aggravating personality, Huxley had talent.

He blew his dark hair from his forehead and shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, if you don’t want to do this I won’t hold it against you, but you’ll still need to get busy on my paper.”

I took a drink of water from my nightstand in an attempt to quench the desert I called my throat.

“Looking pale, Adler? Do I need to call Ledela and tell her it’s off? She’ll be devastated she can’t share this on her blog. It’ll keep her from her Insta-Dreams. Are you going to be a bad friend, Ad? I can’t believe you.”

I calmed my racing heart and tucked my hair behind my ear. “No, I can do this. Website looks great.”

He didn’t believe me.

“And,” I said, grabbing my backpack from the floor and digging through it. I pulled out an outline for his paper. He was going to love filling out the questionnaire.

He took the paper and read over the questions.

“How do I feel about love? Does my ability to hop girls make me feel like the man?”

He let the paper slap against his thigh. “What’s this?”

“I can’t give you a rough draft if you don’t answer these questions. I don’t know the answers. Plus, you don’t want me to fill them out for you, trust me.”

“Who says the paper has to be about this crap, Adler? You really think I hop girls?”

“I think flea should be your new nickname. Flea Jacks. Has a ring to it.”

Red tinted his cheeks and it made me curious. Did he not know what the entire school thought about him? “Other than football, I don't know what you're into besides girls."

I twirled my finger around a string on my favorite blanket. “You could enlighten me.”

He crumbled the paper into a ball and tossed it at my head. “I’ll give you a topic, now, tell me to press publish and I’ll send this out to every girl in my contact list.”

The decisive moment of truth or death.

Huxley watched with bright you’re going down eyes and smiled.

Getting up, feeling froggy, I pressed publish on the website. Huxley’s eyes dropped to the screen, and he smiled.

“Get ready, Adler Ray, you’re the new Miss Play Your Man.”

***

Friday morning rolled around after I devoured an entire box of pizza and worried myself sick into the night.

Ledela’s video blog talked all about an upcoming advice column that she couldn’t wait to share. The amount of views climbed as the night went on and so did my anxiety.

I felt my eyelids burn when my alarm clock dinged on my phone. I fumbled around for it, hitting the dismiss button in mid-sleep. Sitting up, I jerked the covers from me, and noticed blinking on my phone.

Ledela tried through numerous texts to get me hyped for today, with the launch of the website since no one would even know it was me, but nerves rolled around my gut. Maybe it was her morning good luck text.

I hoped it wasn’t a reminder for a checkup at the doctor. My limit on our male nurse practitioner asking me about my last period was once in a lifetime.

I opened my phone and notifications littered my screen. All from Miss Play Your Man.

At least twenty.

Am I dreaming?

The shower turned on down the hallway and I wanted to toss my phone at Huxley’s head. I had no idea how to proceed with these twenty request. I needed a secretary.

I hurried to the spare bathroom down stairs to avoid waiting on Huxley and attempted to scrub the anxiety from my skin. Even though no one knew who I was, I felt I carried a neon sign on my shoulders.

I had a gut feeling that the entire high school would try to figure out who was behind the website. I could only imagine the number of girls Huxley had in his phone—probably a pimp’s worth—I’m sure.

Mrs. Shana placed a note on the kitchen table underneath a basket of muffins saying she had a migraine. It wasn’t like her to be sick, so I shot her a text hoping she felt better.

Huxley’s heavy footsteps carried down the stairway and his chuckle hit my ears like nails on a chalkboard. “Looks like someone is anonymously famous,” he said.

I glanced over at his lopsided smile and green eyes. He held up his phone with his social media account on it. Someone's post about Miss. Play Your Man had tons of comments. “Ninety comments,” I shrieked.

He grabbed a muffin and nodded. “Yep, and counting. Your phone receive the notifications okay?”

I groaned. “Yeah, I have twenty—” I looked at my phone, “ugh, make that thirty-two.”

He patted my head like a dog. “Better get replying, Poops. Don’t want to keep the ladies of Montlake waiting.”

I drove to school like a bat out of hell. The buzz in the hallway before class seemed electrified. No one even second-guessed it was me, but I felt the need to hide anyway.

I watched my feet on the way to my locker.

One tile, two tiles—I hate Huxley—three tiles.

I made it to forty-seven tiles when I tripped over someone’s outstretched legs and face-planted in front of another set.

Embarrassment climbed my body like an anaconda ready to suffocate the breath from me. I almost preferred it.

Someone gripped my upper arms and hauled me up. Stars danced along my vision, and I felt big hands dusting off my shirt.

My vision cleared and warmth blossom in my neck.

Liam Hems stood in front of me, Huxley’s best friend, his giant frame hunched a bit to look at my eyes. “You okay?” he asked. “You took a nose dive.”

I brushed my hair from my shoulder and pretended to straighten my shirt. “Yeah, yeah. I needed a wake-me-up this morning.”

Unfortunately, I wished I could say I was immune to his good looks, and I'm good at everything type, but I wasn’t. Part of the reason I sat in my closet with a container of icing was to hear Liam.

Unfortunately, it came with a lot of boob and ass talk, but worth it to get those snippets of useful information.

It wasn’t a huge crush per se, but it was enough for me to warm at his touch. I could count on one hand how many times Liam talked to me in the past. He’d taken up for me once when a guy tried to take my seat in science class, but it was because of Huxley.

All our interactions were because of him.

“Liam!”

I cringed at the sound of Jacee’s voice.

Being blonde and beautiful went far in Texas. Her heels clicked heavily on the floor as she swayed our way. She stopped and glanced at me. “Hey, Adler.”

Knowing she was the jealous type and ignored me twisted my stomach. No one would ever suspect Adler Invisible Ray to do something as ballsy as to flirt with her boyfriend.

“Hey, yeah, see you later.”

I made a beeline for my locker where an overactive Ledela leaned. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and it swung as she turned her head different ways to get the right angle for her picture. She wore her dance team outfit, which was her only exception Principal Burkhart gave her on the dress code.

The long-sleeved top cut off like a midriff with blue and silver sequences and a huge MHS stitched across the chest. Instead of skirts like the cheerleaders, they wore blue athletic pants with silver strips down the legs.

“Adler!” she squealed pulling me close to her. “Have you seen like any social media site this morning?”

I swallowed. “Yeah, we have a problem, Ledela. I have tons, and I mean tons, of requests for advice and even a couple of play my man requests.”

She clapped. “I posted about it on my blog this morning and my reviews have skyrocketed. I’ve had people asking if I know who Miss Play Your Man is. I’m so going to be Insta-famous.”

God.

I cradled my face with my palms.

“Why the long face Adler, no one knows it’s you, I swear I won’t tell, but we have to go through these. Like now. I’m so excited.”

The warning bell rang.

“Don’t we have the pep rally this morning?” I asked. “Hence your dance team outfit?”

“Yeah, shoot. We’ll have to start at lunch, and watch the rally this time, I have something special planned.”

Uh-oh. “Don’t get suspended, Ledela.”

“I won’t, and I better not look up and you’re reading like last time. Totally rude of you, plus, you don’t want to miss this.” She grabbed her duffle from her locker and raced toward the gym to get ready.

I walked toward first period to wait on the pep rally to start and immediately noticed a group of kids huddled at one student’s desk.

This wasn’t too abnormal, because viral videos surfaced daily, so it didn’t mean they looked at the website.

“Can you believe it? Who has the balls to play the guys around this school?”

Okay, they were absolutely talking about the website.

I slid into my normal seat two chairs behind the group. Only a few students sat at their desks trying to do last night’s homework.

I glided the tip of my pen into my mouth and bit hard.

“I mean, I’m still waiting to hear on my advice,” one girl said.

“Me, too.”

“Ha! I wouldn’t dare ask some random stranger for advice.”

Me either.

“What if it’s a guy?”

They all laughed.

“The website is great though; I wonder who created it? It looks like some new graphics have been added since I got the text last night.”

Curiosity got the best of me, and I tried to look over the girl’s shoulder in front of me. I craned my neck, feeling the leg of my chair slip, and I hit the tile, for the second time in one day.

“Jesus,” one girl hissed.

“Are you okay?”

I stood up, still sitting in the chair, and pushed my hair back into place. With a fake smile, I said, “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Alright class,” Mr. Franklin said, barreling in with a coffee cup and disheveled t-shirt like usual. “Today we’re going over the Battle of Velasco.”

“But the pep rally is gonna start in like fifteen minutes,” someone whined.

Mr. Franklin smiled. “Then we have fifteen minutes of learning to do.”

The entire class groaned.

Including me. What in the shitake had I gotten myself into?

***

The student announcer called for the pep rally, and everyone filed down the hallway and toward the gym like cattle.

My nerves grew as I heard bits and pieces of gossip about the website. No one suspected it was me, even though I’d tried my best to dress not like a lesbian as Ledela called it. I told her to stop stereotyping, but she said if I didn’t look like a lesbian, I looked like a forty-year-old mother of ten who hated her life. I’d much rather be called a lesbian.

My jeans weren’t boyfriend fit and did enough for my figure to show I was a girl. Not to mention I opted out of the long sleeve shirt, even though I would freeze in Biology class later, and wore a short-sleeved, blue shirt with a ruffled collar.

Mrs. Shana bought it for me the year before. Besides Dad forcing me to wear it to our monthly movie date with the family, I hadn’t worn it since. I wasn’t in elementary school, and that’s what it screamed, but elementary was better than mother of ten for my current situation.

The football players sat on the front two rows of the stands, hollering at the dance girls and Curtis, who could forget him, below.

I took a seat in the middle, trying to blend in enough that Ledela couldn’t tell I was reading, for the first part of the rally.

Principal Burkhart walked out into the middle of the court, his cowboy boots clicked and clacked against it. He tucked his thumb into his belt loop and tapped the microphone.

“Alright, Montlake High, who is ready to beat some Gator tail tonight?”

The crowd roared while I slipped an earbud into my left ear, opening my copy of Sula for English Lit. “We’re going to hear from the cheerleaders, the dance team, and then Michael, our quarterback is going to speak.”

I zoned out easily when my phone buzzed.

Ledela’s number ran across my screen.

Ledela: Pay attention!

I looked down where she watched me from the court, looking over the edge of the bleachers with eagle eyes.

I sighed, closed my book, and took out my earbud. It was worth a try.

“Who are we?” Principal Burkhart yelled.

“Warriors!”

Our mascot, dressed in a blue and silver gladiator outfit, danced and flipped along the courtside of the gym.

The person next to me elbowed my ribs every time he moved, which seemed to be often. He needed to look into some ADHD medication before I—

He elbowed me again, this time knocking my phone to the floor. I groaned, reached down to get my phone, I noticed someone below me looking at the website.

I froze.

My phone buzzed shortly after. Gathering my nerves, I opened the notification and read the most recent one.

“How do I get Huxley Jacks to like me?”

Oh brother.

Huxley sat several rows in front of her, with a hand in someone’s Doritos bag, while pointing at one of the dancers bent over in a stretch.

Why in God’s green earth would someone want Huxley? He was rude, messy, and went through girls as he did socks. Since that was a weekly swap for him.

“Here is your MHS dance team.”

For Ledela’s benefit, I shoved my phone into my bag, and watched as they took center stage. Ledela stood next to Jamieson, which churned my stomach for her.

A new pop song blasted from the school’s ancient speakers while the girls started their dance. Ledela shimmed, and shook her pompoms, whipping her ponytail like a cage dancer.

The football team stood up when Jamieson took center stage, and did some kind of split, with her pompoms in the air. Normally this would rear Ledela’s green monster, but she smirked which told me something bad was about to happen.

Hadn’t she said there was a surprise?

Oh no.

Jamieson stood up in front, finishing her dance when Ledela did an Ariel, which I knew what it was because I helped her practice the entire summer, and shoved Jamieson out of the way once she landed.

With a wink, she lifted her ponytail like a Kardashian, and extended her leg above her head.

The crowd stood to their feet and hollered as if they were the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders. Jamieson’s face turned bright red while all the dancers stood around looking clueless. Their dance coach, Mrs. Selena, stood on the sidelines with a jaw-dropping, horrified look on her face.

Dear God, I prayed for Ledela’s spot on the team.

She didn’t look phased.

Once the crowd settled, the dancers raced toward the sidelines where Mrs. Selena and Jamieson started in on Ledela, who smiled at me from side court.

Girl. Is. Nuts.

***

Ledela sat at our normal lunch table with a pair of fake big-rimmed glasses and a smile. She hardly met the dress code after she changed from her dance uniform, lesson not learned, with high waist tan shorts, and a thin-strapped shirt.

“Someone is the talk of the school,” I said, sitting across from her.

She adjusted her glasses and smiled. Her gaze went over my shoulder toward a few dance team members that sat behind us. Jamieson snarled when we looked, which made Ledela ever giddier.

“You’re crazy as hell,” I said. “How much trouble did you get into?”

“I have to sit out the next pep rally. It’ll be fine, they wanted to do some lame Barbie Girl dance, and I’m not down for the step back fifty years for female rights with that song.”

I laughed. “Come on, Ken will undress you everywhere?”

She gagged.

“Where did you get those glasses?” I asked.

“Do they make me look smart,” she asked bringing them down the brim of her nose.

“Not really,” I laughed and started putting fixings on my taco.

“How can you eat at a time like this? We have tons of desperate teenage girls to help.”

I brought my phone out and slid it toward Ledela. She fixed her glasses and started scrolling. “Okay, first.

How can I get a guy to notice me?

She pressed her lips together.

I took another bite, my eyes moving to Huxley’s table. Liam sat beside him, his head tossed back with a smile. That t-shirt should be banned from this school the way it clung to his biceps. Holy Muscles.

I’d never been shallow, or materialistic, when it came to the opposite sex, but Liam was man candy at its finest.

“Adler,” Ledela said.

“What?” I asked, taco sauce running down my chin.

“Are you staring at Liam again?”

I wiped my mouth with the small napkins that came with our plastic utensils. “I regret telling you anything.”

She leaned forward. “Go. Talk. To. Him.”

“No,” I said, gesturing toward the phone. “Tell her if he doesn’t show interest, don’t show any in him. Guys like when girls act like they don’t exist.”

Ledela nodded and typed furiously.

My boyfriend has been trying to persuade me to have sex, but I’m not sure I’m ready. Plus, he has a Prince Albert and I’m scared.

I cringed over another bite. “Tell her if she’s not sure, don’t do it. You can’t get that v-card back.”

Ledela answered.

“You want a taco?” I asked.

“No, I’m on a diet.”

I tried to find a place that elucidated her need for a diet. I didn’t see one. I, however, started my second taco.

“I had a request for advice about Huxley today. I almost told her to dream better, but I didn’t.”

“Speaking of,” Ledela said.

The bench next to me squeaked. Huxley sat down beside me and swung his arm around my shoulder. “Poops, you’re the talk of the class.”

Ledela cleared her throat.

“Hey Led,” Huxley said. “So are you, but that’s a daily thing. Nice moves. Jamieson never stood a chance.”

She pushed her hair over her shoulder with a smile.

“How’s the website?”

“Amazing!” she said. “I’ve heard about it every period, and no one knows who made it.”

Huxley tugged me closer. “Just like Adler wanted. Speaking of people living up to their part of the deal, here is my summary on what you should write about.”

I took the paper. “Codes? You realize I have no idea about any of this.” I let the paper fall to the table. “And how am I going to write a story about it?”

He gestured toward Ledela’s phone. “You’re going to write this story.”

I lifted both brows. “This, as in the website?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“That’s going to get us caught, and if I remember correctly, I agreed to a confidential part in this.”

“Don’t use your name, just mine. It’ll be fine. You have a month. Write as you go.”

He grabbed the remains of my second taco on my plate and walked back down to Liam.

“Ugh,” I hissed.

Ledela batted her eyes. “He is so dreamy.”

I watched him eat the rest of my food while talking and cringed. “Not what I was going to say but to each their own.”

“Okay,” she cleared her throat. “I can answer most of these advice questions. We have a request to play her man and you’re never going to guess who it is.”

“Who?”

“Liam Hems.”