Lots of people greet Shane when he walks up the bleachers, and I don’t miss the way how everyone’s eyes land on Shane’s arm, wrapped around my shoulder. I see Tamara below the bleachers, her sparkly blue pom-poms in her hands, getting ready to cheer her heart out at tonight’s game.
Tamara spots me and runs over. “Beverly!” She pulls me into a brief hug. “Did Shane manage to convince you to come?” She waves a noncommittal greeting to him, and he grins. “I knew you were going to say no if I tried dragging you here, but I figured Shane just might have his way with you. We’re going to have tons of fun at Larry’s party later on.”
“I’m going to a party?” I glint at Shane. “I don’t remember agreeing to anything like this.”
“It must have escaped your memory, then.” Shane smirks at my annoyed expression.
“I don’t want to go to Larry’s party. Do you even remember what happened the last time I went to Brendan’s party?” I snap, in reference to George Hansen saying that he wanted to fuck me.
“Yeah, I have several recollections, one of which I remember rather vividly,” He shoots a knowing look at me, and I flush.
Is he referring to our kiss? I thought that was a touchy subject that neither of us are to bring up again!
Tamara tugs at my shirt sleeve. “Come on, Beverly, it’ll be fun.
“Yes, Bevvy, it’ll be fun,” Shane echoes, that annoying smirk on his face, and I resist the urge to smack him on the head.
“Look,” I turn to Tamara, “I’m not even dressed for a party.”
I’m totally not. I’m just wearing a shirt and shorts, my usual school outfit, and I don’t think that’s exactly considered party-worthy.
She laughs. “I knew you’d say that. You can borrow from me, we’ll go to my house after the game. And I’ll do your make-up and hair. Promise. Come on, Beverly, it’s just a party, what can happen?”
A lot, I want to say, but stop myself just in time.
I sigh. “Fine.”
“I knew it! I just knew you’d say yes.” Squealing, she throws her arms around me. “Alright, I got to get back to cheer the football dudes on,” She rolls her eyes and makes a face. “But I’ll catch you later.”
I wave, and turn to follow Shane up the bleachers.
He leads me to a relatively empty section, so that the only people surrounding us are some people I recognise from the art club. They still start gawking though, amazed that Shane-the-great is sitting within a five-foot radius of them.
“Hey, Shane!” A couple of kids seated in the front rows catches sight of him and start waving madly.
I recognise them as some of the popular kids Shane usually hangs out with. Instead of heading over to sit with them like I expected him to, Shane simply waves and turns back to me.
“Don’t you want to sit there?” I gesture towards them. “They’re your friends. You don’t have to keep sticking to me, I’ll be fine.”
His lips curve into a grin. “Then who would explain the game to you?”
At first, I feel gratified that that’s his indirect way of saying that he wants to stay with me, but then he wraps his arm around my waist and says “You need me, Bev,”, and I immediately change my mind.
Catching the stunned looks of the people around us, I turn to glare crossly at him, removing his arm from me altogether. “I don’t ‘need’ you. And don’t touch me. I told you before,” I gesture to my whole self, “This is a no-touching zone.”
He chuckles. “No, your lips are the no-touching zone.”
“Well, I’m amending the rule.”
“That’s too bad.” He grins mischievously.
But nevertheless, he still finds ways to touch me. Like ‘accidentally’ knocking his knee against mine, or nudging my shoe with his faded Nikes.
“What did I say about the no-touching zone?” I glint dangerously, after his elbow brushes against mine for the third consecutive time.
Shane raises his eyebrows innocently. “I didn’t touch you.”
“Your elbow just brushed me.”
“It did?” He looks well and truly shocked. Ha. “My elbow must like you, then.”