Kiss Cam

Ch. 13 - Inertia

"C'mon, Dexter, get to third base!"

I laugh as the words fall out of my mouth, the double meaning making the boy stick up his middle finger.

My history teacher decided that today is the perfect day for our class to play a friendly game of baseball. Guess it's his way of starting the new topic of the American Dream.

Baseball is no dream of mine.

That can be proven by the bag of ice I'm holding to my face. My inability to catch a baseball is to blame for the black-eye I'm sure to get. It'll match the one I got at the party on Friday.

Dexter slides to home plate, earning our team another point. Georgia runs over to give him a high-five, but he rejects it.

"Afraid of affection much?" I laugh as he joins me in the dugout.

"Accident prone much?" he bites back, taking his helmet off and shaking his long hair all over the place.

"I look more intimidating though, don't I?"

He just shakes his head and sits down a few noticeable spaces away from me. Classic Dexter. Allergic to the idea of socializing.

"This game blows," Tucker laughs, sitting next to me.

"What're you doing here?" I ask and set the icepack down. "Do you have Mr. Castaway?"

"Nope. I'm just here to ask my best friend's girlfriend to ditch with me."

I look at him as if he has three heads. "Ditch?"

"Yeah, like, leave school."

"I know what it means," I mumble. "But I will not be ditching with you, Tucker."

"But I need you to help me plan Asher's surprise birthday party!" he whines. "C'mon, Riley, just this once!"

I huff. "I don't like you."

"Ouch," he says with a loud laugh.

Mr. Castaway blows his whistle loudly. "Hey, Tucker Phillips, what the hell are you doing out here? Get to class!"

I grin smugly. "Maybe next time."

"Maybe this time," Tucker says before running out of the dugout to my history teacher.

I watch carefully, trying to figure out what the two are talking about. To my horror, Mr. Castaway pats Tucker on the back and then faces me.

"Green, you're excused."

Tucker waves his hand over his head, signaling me to follow him. I glance at Dexter as if to beg for help, but he just offers a closed-mouth smile.

"What'd you say to him?" I ask, my arms crossed over my chest as I walk through the school parking lot with Tucker.

"Your dog died."

"But I'm a cat person."

He rolls his eyes and unlocks a crappy looking car. "This is my baby, Herbie."

"You named your car after a Lindsey Lohan movie?" I ask, opening the door and sitting in the passengers seat.

"Um, no. Obviously I named it after the 1968 movie The Love Bug." He shakes his head. "You disgust me."

As the foul smell fills my nostrils, I swat the air with my hands. "What is that horrible smell?"

"It's musk," he answers as he starts up the car. "Oh, and maybe a little bit of it is from the sandwich I left in here last summer."