The Bad Boy and the Tomboy

DUMBEGG

"We're preparing for the season."

"When does it start?"

"In May. We have indoor exhibition games and tournaments before that."

"Can you squeeze me into your busy schedule?" he teased.

If Jasmine was here, she'd easily slide in something flirty.

Banter that proved she was easygoing, fun to talk to. I wasn't her, and so I pretended to play it cool. "We'll see."

"I'll text you then to find out."

"Cool." Saying good-bye to him, I turned on my heel, my grip on my phone harder than it should have been.

Cool? Seriously? When I reached our table, it was filled with my friends—and Sam. "Why are you here? That's my spot."

"It's suddenly illegal to sit?"

I slid in next to him and grabbed my lunch from my bag, opening it and putting it on the table. Sam reached out to take a granola bar I had as a snack and I slapped his hand away.

"Ow."

Austin hissed, "Don't mess with Macy and her food, man." He glanced at himself through the camera on his phone as he fixed his hair. Austin was biracial—his father Congolese and his mom Puerto Rican—and he had brown eyes and perfectly straight teeth that had never been touched by braces.

"Ever," Jon Ming added, putting his headphones around his neck. Jon Ming's dyed red hair was as bright as his eccentric personality. He spoke multiple languages, including his native tongue, Korean, and was known for playing the music he created everywhere, at every party he went to.

I pushed Sam's arm off as he tried to put it around my chair. "Hazel here is glad to share food with me, aren't you? She's probably happy to see me."

"Buzz off, dumbegg."

"Buzz off, dumbegg?" Sam looked at Andrew. "Who says dumbegg?"

"This girl, who doesn't swear," Andrew said. "Be glad you haven't heard her say holy flying lemurs."

"Holy flying what?" Sam chuckled, surprised. "That's weird because you're such a tomboy."

"I'm not—"

"A tom. Boy. Do I have to say it slower?"

"Stop being a jerk. I'm not a tomboy."

"You kind of are," Jon Ming agreed. "All your friends are guys except Jasmine." Jon Ming pointed his fork at me, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I don't think you've ever owned a dress."

"She has dresses. She just doesn't wear them," Jasmine said.

"And you're like one of the guys." Austin shrugged.

Sam's phone beeped and he got up after he looked at it. His hand reached out to ruffle my hair. "See you later, Hazel."

After he left the busy cafeteria, Jon Ming said, "Sam's interesting."

"And he seems to like talking to you," Austin commented.

"What about Cedric?" Jasmine whispered as if someone was going to eavesdrop on our conversation.

"He wants to hang out. It's not like that," I said.

"You're into Cedric?" Andrew said.

"I didn't say that."

"You don't have to." He pointed at me. "You're going red."

I rubbed my cheeks and scowled at my friends. "Can we change the stupid subject?"