Page 70 of Enemy Crush
“No.” I shook my head.
“Miller came into the gym on the first day of harvest and shoved Ronan and told him he should show more respect to you.”
“To me? Why?” I was getting more confused by the minute.
“Yeah, he said Ronan was a jerk for not taking you home after your date.”
“What date? I never went on a date with Ronan.”
“Yeah, that’s what Ronan said to Miller, but Miller just shoved him into the leg press machine.”
I blinked, surprised to hear Miller was capable of violence. “I don’t get it. He must’ve meant someone else.”
Blanche’s lips curled into a know-it-all smile. “Well, then Rone and I figured it out, or partly figured it out. We think that Miller must’ve seen me pick you up from your house in Ronan’s car. He must’ve thought it was Ronan and that you guys were on a date.”
I frowned in confusion but then stark reality set in. That was the day Celeste and Naomi ghosted me and Mr. Trask had picked me up at the bus stop.
Blanche was watching me, clearly reading the telltale signs as my cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Oh,” I mumbled, covering my face with my hands, but there was no time for self-pity as she pulled me up and escorted me tothe door. I heard her tell Mrs. Baez that we needed a bathroom break, even though class had just started.
Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat on the cold tile floor, reliving the story of my friends bailing on me, of being too proud to call her to ask for a ride, and then catching the bus home. It was surely as low as I could go, having to admit that I was a loser of epic proportions.
But Blanche put her arm around me. “You know what, you’re better off without those friends,” she said, squeezing me, “and don’t worry, you have me now.”
I choked on a laugh as she opened a stall and pulled out a wad of toilet paper for me to use to wipe my eyes.
“Thanks,” I sniffed, “you’re the best.”
Blanche smirked. “But that’s not the whole story, is it...?”
I drew in a shaky breath, swallowing hard as I realized I’d been cornered into full disclosure. Well, the truth was out there anyway. “Yeah, you’re right...it’s true. My dad lost his business and all our money. We’re virtually broke. I couldn’t afford to go to Brizendine Prep anymore, that’s why I’m here at Snow Ridge High.”
Blanche winced, clearly embarrassed by my revelation. “I didn’t know that,” she whispered, “But I was actually talking about Miller.” My eyes widened at my blunder, and Blanche carried on sweetly, “Because it seems Miller Trask has definitely got a thing for you. And I’m guessing he was a tiny bit jealous about Ronan taking you on a date.”
I buried my face in my hands, wild horses stampeding in my chest. I let out a combination gasp-cry-groan. “Ahhh! To be honest, I dunno what’s going on with Miller Trask. For years he’s been the enemy, and then he says he likes me, but today at school he acted like I don’t even exist!”
“Oh, he knows you exist,” Blanche said smugly, “don’t worry about that.”
Maybe Blanche had some sort of arrangement with Mrs. Baez because when we arrived back to class, there was no mention of tardiness and we resumed the lesson. Being the last class of the day, I’d make the quick stop to Coach McLean’s office before going to my locker. That way I’d hopefully miss Miller. Learning that he’d shoved Ronan was causing a tornado in my head and I had no idea what to think. The craziness of it all made me wonder if it was even true. Because at the start of the harvest, Miller had barely spoken to me. He’d fixed my riding mower, that’s all. Hardly the need to play the over protective...neighbor?
It wasn’t worth dwelling on. But first I had to deal with Coach McLean, probably trying to get some money out of me for who knows what.
I knocked on the door and braced myself. Coach McLean was full of cheer, a stark contrast from when she’d told me I should take up golf. Little did she know, I’d tried golf before, but that dang silly ball was impossible to get into those little holes!
Not returning her beaming smile, I stood stony-faced in front of her.
“Quinn, good to see you again. I heard you were part of the Spud Harvest?”
“Yes,” I said with no show of emotion, unlikely to ever forget how she’d said I wasn’t a team player.
Coach cleared her throat and inhaled through her nose. “I’d like to offer you a place on the Sonics varsity team.”
Not believing my ears, I stood mute, trying to digest her words. And surprisingly, my initial concern was whether Mom could afford to pay the fees.
“We’re lacking on the attacking side and I think someone with your speed and skills could be a real asset,” Coach said. She coughed again and gushed, “I think it may have been an oversight on my part not to include you in the team.”
She picked up a folded jersey from the table and held it up. “We play Timbervue tomorrow and there’s a spot in the team for you...will you take it?”
