Page 31 of Ruse
Another week has come and gone and I’m still as anxious and miserable as ever. I’ve avoided Maverick every chance I’ve gotten since that night in my bedroom I almost committed the deadliest of sins. No not just sex, but sex with Maverick Carter. That’s like having sex with Satan himself. Blazing hot, dangerously passionate, surely incomparable, and sinfully delicious, sex that would no doubt do more harm than good. Even if it might possibly be the best sex I’d ever have, I can’t let myself go there for so many reasons.
Which is why I have a plan. It’s called theKeep Maverick’s Dick out of Phoenix’s Vagina Plan.
Oliver came up with the name of course, even though he doesn’t know the extent of how close I came to letting said dick in my vagina,yet so far, it’s worked perfectly. The main reason being my extensive list of after school extracurriculars, particularly Student Government. It was quite a surprise when I totally didn’t hate it and have looked forward to our weekly meetings every Tuesday and Thursday. Mainly we sit around Mrs. Phillip’s classroom, our AP English teacher who also oversees the club, and discuss all the different fundraising and charity events MC High hosts throughout the year, particularly the End of Summer Fair down at the Malibu Cove Pier. The entire pier shuts down for only MC High's finest and their guests, raising money for the year's dances and senior activities. This year's theme has been chosen and it’s pretty darn epic.
“Summer Lovin, really Cole?” Darcy Bennett, a girl I’ve kind of formed a unique after school friendship with, groans as Cole writes this year's theme on the white board hanging at the front of the class.
It was a surprise to me too the first day I walked in and saw Cole Sheppard sitting at the front of the room, but he is MC High's golden boy, so it makes sense he’d be involved in something so crucial. Maybe it’s also because he would rather hide out here than back at his house for whatever reason. We’ve never spoken about running into each other at Cliffside, but now and then, I catch him watching me expectantly, like he wants me to ask him why he was there. I won’t. When he’s ready, he’ll come to me.
Cole and I aren’t the best of friends, but we run in the same circle and have known each other pretty much our whole lives. He’s more Brooklyn’s friend, but my brother’s been acting weirder than me these past few months so I wouldn’t be surprised if they hardly talk anymore.
“Yes, my dear Darcy,” Cole chimes, “Summer lovin’ had me a blast. Summer lovin’ happened so fast. I met a girl…” he continues, breaking out in song.
I laugh along with the other twelve students that make up the group, while Darcy blushes as Cole continues singing to her, being more introverted than any of us. In the past, I hadn't spoken much with Darcy, despite having her in a few of my classes all throughout middle school and high school, but that may be because until last week, I had no idea who she really was.
Darcy has been living in Malibu Cove for almost ten years now, but the girl who’s currently sitting across from me with gorgeous, chocolate brown hair, striking blue-gray eyes, and a face that can only be described as angelic, isn’t anything like the sweet little Darcy I remember with glasses, braces, and patches of freckles along the bridge of her nose.
Talk about a glow up. Not that she wasn’t beautiful before, I’m sure she was, but now Darcy is turning heads left and right, even in the totally unflattering clothes she wears. I mean just look at the way Cole is flirting away with her, not to mention the poor girl is clueless which makes it all that more adorable.
Darcy tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear as she rolls her eyes. “I know what it means Cole, we’ve all watched the movieGrease, I just don’t get how that can be a theme?”
Cole being the Don Juan that he is, places a hand on her shoulder adoringly. “Sweetheart, Darcy Baby, do you or do you not remember the iconic end scene, where they are at the carnival…”
“Yes Cole, I got it real original,” Darcy mutters, nervously shrugging away from him.
Cole moves back toward the front of the room, scribbling a drawing of the pier on the whiteboard. “Well, that is what our summer fair is going to be like. Think Pacific Park only way better.” He turns back to face everyone, all gazes except Darcy’s, attentively focused on the gorgeous surfer boy fashionable dressed in a pastel green and pink linen polo, decorated with small palm trees and the top three buttons undone, and a pair of distressed jean shorts. “And yes, before any of you object, costumes are a necessity. Mandatory.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me watching him so excited about something. The smile on his face warms my heart. I hadn’t seen Cole like this since before this summer. “Wow Cole, I’ve never seen you so enthusiastic about anything else other than booze, partying, and air-headed babes who throw themselves at you and spread their legs.”
He glares at me but quickly shakes it off. “That is the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me Phoenix Baby,” he murmurs, placing a hand over his chest where his heart is. Something about Cole seems different and although it’s almost foreign to see him this way when alcohol isn’t involved, I’m rather enjoying it. And if the laughs around the room are any sign, so is everyone else.
“It wasn’t…” I pause seeing as this isn’t going anywhere and look down at my phone on the desk in front of me. Shit, it’s nearly five o’clock in the evening meaning we’ve been sitting here for almost three hours. It’s funny it didn’t seem that long at all. “Okay fine, Summer Lovin,” I answer mockingly, gathering my belongings, and tapping Darcy on the arm, silently telling her to join me.
Cole walks over to me, brushing my hair away from my face and cupping my chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze. “Yes, my dear Phoenix, and you are the perfect Sandy.”
I snort, embarrassingly loud. “Yeah, not going to happen Cole. Darcy, let's get out of here before this idiot blesses us with anymore of his singing and psychotic ideas.”
“Is that what that was?” Darcy mocks, and I realize I’m really starting to like this girl.
Cole shouts after us, but neither one of us turns to humor him. “Whatever P, but mark my words, you will be my Sandy!”
* * *
“I never thoughtI’d be sitting in Phoenix Bancroft’s backyard. If you can even call this a backyard.” Darcy follows closely behind me as I lead her over to the fire pit surrounded by plush outdoor couches and loungers. The fire’s already burning, making me wonder if anyone else is home, but I didn’t see any other cars in the driveway.
After the meeting, Darcy and I headed back to my house, although she was adamant I didn’t have to give her a ride, and even more insistent I take her home, here we are, sitting out on the deck, putting together all the details to make this End of Summer Fair the best Malibu Cove has ever seen.
I have to admit a part of me was being selfish in not letting her go home, not wanting Maverick, nor Brooklyn, and especially not my father to bother me when they came home. Dad’s supposed family dinners have been nonexistent since he and Daphne have been gone, but they flew back from Florida last week, and although I’ve dodged him so far, I’m afraid what that means moving forward. As for Maverick, who I’m also still avoiding, his Aston isn’t in the driveway, neither is my brother’s Jeep.
However, another part of me, a piece I didn't think existed, is really enjoying being part of the club. When I was little, I absolutely loved the lavish and extravagant parties my mom used to host for her country club and high society friends. Watching the party planners work, going back and forth between the decorators and caterers, the florists who’d create these elusive centerpieces and walls of flowers, and even the staff that would work the events pristinely dressed and impeccably mannered, it all felt magical once pieced together. I used to picture myself growing up and hosting my own exuberant parties, only they’d be bigger, better, and I’d have a say in all of it.
This is part of that dying dream. I may no longer host those same societal events I dreamed of as a kid, but I can throw the biggest, baddest end of summer rager Malibu Cove has ever seen. It’s more my scene, anyway.
“We’re talking cotton candy and popcorn machines at every corner,” I utter excitedly, Darcy watching me with a curious expression. It’s like she’s trying to figure out whether I'm being serious or not. It makes sense for someone like her, an introvert who’s used to living in the shadows and dark corners being invisible, to wonder if“the It girl”is really trying to be her friend or not.
I give her a warm smile, and she obliges. “Ooh and snow cones. I love snow cones,” she shouts excitedly, only blushing when she realizes how childish it sounded. I laugh, not at all bothered by her enthusiasm. I appreciate I’m not the only one. I add snow cone machines to the list I’ve started on my laptop in front of me, as I research carnival rides and games we can rent out for the occasion.
“Look at this,” I tell her pointing at the various booths and games up on my screen. “We can have the different sports teams and clubs volunteer their time to work the booths and food carts, and since we’re most likely going to set up the bigger rides along the parking lot nearby, we can ask any of the restaurants in town if they’d be willing to have a table or bring a food truck and park it along the edge of the lot before the dock.”
