Mark My Words

7 | "I Don't Flirt"

It took far too long for Rosalie to see where this was going. Her hand hesitated on her calve, heart stopping painfully fast like breaking at a red light. When Joanna lifted her eyes back up to meet Rosalie's, her smile fell.

"Oh," Joanna said. She straightened up as Rosalie kicked back into gear.

"Me?!" she cried, snapping her sock over her knee.

Joanna got to her feet, that stoic expression back as she put a hand to her ponytail. "That was—" She halted, and turned back with a sharp, calculated glare. "You were totally flirting with me."

Rosalie could have laughed. "I don't flirt."

"Right, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, too busy with your nose in your books to think about it, huh? No wonder the guys all call you Virgin Lips."

The anger was palpable and visible in Rosalie's face, turning red from both the embarrassment of Joanna using the name and the fury from knowing what the football guys call her. Joanna snapped her mouth shut and shook her head.

"I'm—God, that was a bad joke. I'm sorry," she said, and if it weren't for all the offhanded comments Rosalie heard the past several days, she would have assumed that this was no different. However, she caught the hitch in Joanna's voice and hesitated. "I told them it was shitty to call you that. Virginity and first-kisses are just a social construct made by the patriarchy."

"Wait—what?" Rosalie said, surprised by her own laughter. "And—Oh my God, Joanna, you're the reason I've never been kissed before. You punched Lennie Pittmen before he could kiss me!"

"Yeah, 'cause he was a hormonal dick who needed his face punched!" Joanna said, exasperated. "Sorry you haven't been able to get some since. I mean, come on, blaming me for that?"

Rosalie snapped her laces too tight and stood up to face Joanna. She had a good few inches on Joanna—The Devil was just a compact version of raw angst, and Joanna's short stature attested to that.

"The reason I was asking—" she started, voice clipped. She balled up her fists at her sides. "—was because I hoped you might put some effort for the team if I helped you score a date with your crush."

"That—" Joanna started, eyes flitting between Rosalie's. Rosalie's gaze narrowed into a scowl the farther Joanna's smile stretched, returning to her smug face. "Yeah. I'd take you up on that, Captain. When's the date?"

Rosalie opened her mouth, expecting to explain herself further, but stopped short. She clamped her mouth shut, and her shock just made Joanna all the more eager.

"I—" Rosalie started, leaning back on her heels. "I don't—"

"Didn't think that far ahead, did ya?" Joanna said, voice low as she winked one perfect cat eye at Rosalie. "Don't worry, I've gotchya covered. Leave it all to me—"

"No, wait—" Rosalie started, and struggled to get her brain working. Joanna crossed her arms, waiting patiently with that provoking grin. "How do I know you'll hold up your end?"

"You don't. That's what so exciting about it," she said, clapping her hands and rubbing them together diabolically.

"Then after Regionals," Rosalie said, and Joanna's smile instantly dropped. "And only if we get to Nationals. Deal?"

She slumped forward with a groan. "That's so far away!"

Rosalie grinned, and she felt like she was embracing her inner Joanna. So this was what it felt like to be cocky. "But you're confident we can get there?" she said, and Joanna gave her a dull look.