Dare You to Date the Point Guard (Rock Valley High Book 2) Page 9

  I stared up at him with a challenge in my smile and suddenly the intensity in his blue eyes changed. He stepped toward me, leaving only a few inches between us. I found my backend pressed to the edge of the table, with nowhere left to retreat to. He looked down at me with a heated expression that took my breath away. His gaze flicked from my eyes, down to my mouth, and back up again.

  “Oh, I can handle the heat,” he said in a gruff voice.

  Slowly, he reached up and brushed a stray curl from the side of my face, tucking it carefully behind my ear. The brush of his fingertips against my skin sent delicious thrills running up and down my spine. I stared into his eyes, finding myself desperately wishing I knew what he was thinking. And wondering if the same knee-wobbling electricity was suddenly coursing through his body.

  “Are you sure?” My voice sounded weak and trembly. Not at all like me. “A lot of guys think that, until they get burned.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “Maybe you should be.”

  To be honest, I wasn’t sure that we were talking about blow torches anymore. And once again, my traitorous mind was having flashbacks to Mason’s living room couch when he was shirtless and the only thing I could think about was pressing my lips against his. Except this time, we were in an empty classroom. And Mason’s lips were closer than ever.

  “I...uh...” My gaze remained glued to his mouth.

  He was frowning, his jaw muscles tensing and releasing. Somehow, my hand found its way to his chest. My fingers splayed over his solid pecs. The good girl inside my head was telling me to push him away. The much stronger voice was telling me to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt.

  It was then that I remembered the very shirt I was tempted to tug on was the one we’d bought specifically for his ex-girlfriend. Polly Thompson. All in a plan to get them back together and prove my happiness research project was a success. Alarms went off inside my ears. Blaring, loud things that shocked me into defensive action.

  “You know, while we’re here, I think we should work on part two of my research project,” I said, sliding a step to my left and putting some much-needed space between us.

  That was a close one. I couldn’t forget exactly why we were here or how much my future depended on Project Happiness being a glaring success.

  Disappointment flashed in Mason’s eyes for a mere second, before he reined it in and settled back into his normal brooding expression. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s part two?”

  “Love letters.”

  My throat tightened as the words left my mouth. Love. It wasn’t a word I’d ever had problems saying before now. I loved my family. I loved my best friends. I could even say that I loved the Caramel Snickerdoodle Macchiato I got at Starbucks on the weekends. Why was that word suddenly giving me palpitations?

  To hide my sudden discomfort, I went to find the two pieces I wanted to weld together today. Mason’s gaze was heavy on my back, and I avoided his eyes as best I could.

  “Love letters?” The words sounded much different coming out of Mason’s mouth. He said them with such powerful disdain. “You mean poetry and stuff?”

  “Yeah, love letters can be poems. Or, they can be the little things you like about her. Like how her curls catch the sunlight or the beautiful way she smiles when she thinks no one is watching. Girls really aren’t as difficult as everyone makes us out to be. All we want is someone to notice us.”

  There was a long moment of silence that followed my explanation. I looked up from my project, worried that I’d freaked Mason out and he’d gone MIA on me. But he was still here, watching me with a thoughtful expression, his eyebrows knitted together.

  “Here, write down some ideas while I get this started.” I tossed him my spiral bound notebook. “Just brainstorm a few. Doesn’t have to be fancy. I’m sure Polly will love it.”

  I swore I heard him growl in response, but I ignored it and went back to searching for the right pieces of metal. It took me a few minutes to set everything up, but soon I was ready. With a satisfied grin, I went to check on Mason’s progress.

  “Her car?” My grin morphed into a dismayed frown as I looked over his short list. “The thing you like about Polly is her car?”

  He scratched his head. “Well...it’s a Cadillac Eldorado. It’s a classic.”

  “And...her dog?”

  “What? It’s a German Shepard. I couldn’t help myself. I have a weakness for big dogs.”

  I shot him a grimace. This was going to be harder than I expected.

  “That’s all you could come up with?” In total, there were five things, each more pathetic than the last. Polly would never appreciate a love letter praising her car or dog. What girl would? “This needs to be about her. Not the things she owns.”

  Mason sighed in frustration and pushed the notebook away. “This is why guys suck at romance. We’re hopeless.”

  “You’re not hopeless.” I sat on the edge of the desk and looked down at him. It was kind of cute, seeing him all worked up over something so simple. His normal, over-confident demeanor had slipped. “You just need...a feminine touch.”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise. It took me a full second, but suddenly, I realized how he could’ve taken my words differently than I meant. Blood rushed to my cheeks and I waved my hands in front of my chest.

  “I meant on your love note. A feminine touch on your love note. You don’t need...a feminine touch. I mean, no females will be touching you. Here. Now. Today.”

  Mason’s mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. If I could’ve welded my lips together to keep from spewing such embarrassing garbage, I would’ve. Instead, I slid off the desk and practically ran to grab the welding torch, gloves, and mask, hoping my humiliation would burn off in the flames.

  After several minutes of welding the first two pieces together, I was ready to try again. Shutting off the torch, I ripped off my mask and turned to Mason.

  “Okay, new tactic. Tell me what drew you two together when you first met at camp?”

  There had to be something good we could use.

  He rubbed his chin and stared into empty space. “Well, I guess it was because we were both cabin leaders. Polly walked right up to me at our first leadership meeting with a giant smile on her face and said hi.”

  Good, we could work with that.

  “All right, say that you like how confident she is, even when you know she’s not. How she can energize an entire roomful of people with just her smile.”

  “That works,” he said, scrawling it on the notebook. “Anything else?”

  “And that you think about her.” I stared down at the cooling torch in my hand. “Any girl would like that.”

  Mason might think about Polly all the time, but I thought about him. And at this moment, I couldn’t help but think about how much I’d miss Mason once he got back together with his ex. Sure, we’d still have class together, but it wouldn’t be the same. And if we kept up a quick pace with the statue, I’d be done in no time and I’d really run out of excuses to see him outside of class.

  “You know...” Mason’s voice came from next to me. I looked up to see him standing there with a smirk. He’d torn his love note from the notebook and was folding it up into a little triangle. “Speaking of thinking...I’m thinking you look pretty hot holding that torch. Better let me have a try so you can cool down.”

  I put my glove on his shoulder and shoved him, but he barely budged. Instead, he gave off a deep chuckle and stashed the note in his pocket.

  “Fine, you can have a try,” I said, ducking my head to check on an imaginary problem with the welding job I’d done. My cheeks burned with the fury of the surface of the sun.

  Three seconds ago, Mason Finnick had called me hot. And no matter how much I told myself that it was just in reference to the blow torch in my hand, and had nothing to do with me, my heart rate just wouldn’t slow down.

  It was ridiculous. I’d never been so silly around a guy.

  “But d
on’t imagine for one second,” I added, glancing up at him with a forced smile, “that you’re a better welder than me.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dare challenge your welding authority,” he replied, pulling on a pair of gloves. “I’ve never seen anyone look as legit as you, just now. If anyone ever tries to tell me again that art is for wimps, I’m going to have to tell them I personally know an artist who could kick their cans.”

  Again, I was blushing. What was wrong with me? It seemed like every word out of Mason’s mouth was getting me going today. Maybe it was the lunch ladies’ chocolate brownie I’d had after lunch. I’d read somewhere that chocolate was an aphrodisiac. This one must’ve been pumped full of it. Teen-girl-heart-thumping-knee-wobbling brownies. My body clearly wasn’t to blame for its own reactions.

  “Just weld these two pieces, here and here,” I said, pointing at the spots that still needed connecting. “And for goodness’ sake, don’t burn yourself.”

  He took the torch and I backed away, glad once again for the space between us. As I watched him dive into the project, a newly revived feeling of determination entered my gut.

  Everything was going according to plan.

  If I could just pull it together and see this through, everyone would come out of this happier than when I started. Polly and Mason would both get what they wanted. My parents would get what they wanted. And I’d get to spend my summer at art camp. After all, that was the goal of Project Happiness.

  I just had to stick to the plan.

  And avoid absolutely all chocolate from here on out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You guys, I was looking at my sketches for the senior class gift and I think my statue might actually get done on time. And I might actually survive our senior year.”

  I beamed at my friends as I joined them at our daily meeting by our lockers at the end of school. I was still running high from Research Methods class yesterday. Mason had proved to be a better welder than I’d expected. Between the two of us, we’d managed to get quite a bit done. Maybe soon, I’d actually have something to show to Savannah. So far, I’d been dodging her texts and DMs, but I had the feeling she wouldn’t be patient much longer.

  Just as I got my locker open, Mandy slammed hers shut, narrowly missing my fingers. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, frustration flashing in her eyes. Audrey and I exchanged concerned glances, wondering what could’ve happened within the span of an hour long class to make Mandy so heated. The school day was over, but apparently the drama had just begun.

  “What’s up, M?” Audrey asked as she pushed her curly hair over her shoulder. “What’s with the freakout?”

  “Coach Mac announced his retirement in sixth period science,” she grumbled, staring at the lockers on the opposite side of the hall. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes. “He’s not even finishing out the year. A new teacher is coming to replace him in three weeks and then he’s out. Gone. Never coming back.”

  “Oh, Mandy.” I wrapped my arms around my friend and squeezed her tight. It was hard to see her cry. She was the toughest person I knew. “I’m so sorry.”

  Pain lanced through my chest. The reality was that Mandy didn’t actually care about science class or who taught it. What was really causing my friend to lash out was the fact that the coach who’d spent countless hours training her in track and long distance running was leaving before the end of her last season.

  She’d been counting on this year being her very best. With a talent like hers, she could get a scholarship to almost any Division I school she wanted. That was, if she had a stellar last season.

  This probably felt like she was being abandoned in her hour of need. It was no wonder she was devastated. The whole thing made me frustrated.

  “I know I shouldn’t be angry,” she said with a sniff into my shoulder. “His wife is sick and needs him around. But I just can’t help myself. I’m so selfish.”

  “You’re allowed to feel that way,” I said, rubbing her back. Audrey hummed in agreement. “That doesn’t make you a bad person. We all know you really love Coach Mac. But even with him gone, I’m sure you’ll still have an amazing track season, because you’re an amazing athlete. And maybe you’ll get an even better coach out of the deal.”

  She sighed heavily, leaning her head back against the locker she’d just slammed. “You know, sometimes I wish I was more like you. I could constantly ask myself, how would Trina see the silver lining in this situation? I should have that made into a bumper sticker. It would remind me not to suck so much as a human being.”

  I laughed and tossed my history book in the bottom of my opened locker. “Um...you don’t even have a car to put a bumper sticker on and I’m pretty sure you don’t need to be more like me. You’re a wonderful human being, Mandy. One of the best, in my opinion. That’s why we’re besties.”

  “Agreed,” Audrey added, before giving me a bit of side-eye. “Although, I might order one of those bumper stickers, too. Trina’s got us both beat in the sweet and innocent category by a mile.”

  I shook my head. They were both nuts. “That’s not true and you know it!”

  “Yes, it is.” Audrey tugged on her backpack straps and pulled them tight. “You never think bad of anyone. You’re so trusting. If a kid were to ask you for the shirt off your back right now, you’d give it to them, no questions asked. And you are incapable of squishing a spider you found inside your house because you worry they have feelings.” She shivered with disgust.

  “Well, I just figure it’s kinder to catch and release,” I grumbled into my open locker.

  Okay, she had me described in accurate detail, but that didn’t make it easy to swallow. And she wasn’t the first person to say something along those lines. Wasn’t Mason just accusing me of something similar two weeks ago? Naive was the word he’d used. And that was pretty much how my best friends described me. I didn’t want to be naive. I wanted to be a woman who was going to change the world.

  Was that too much to ask?

  “I’m just looking forward to the day when Trina Frye decides to put herself first,” Audrey continued, leaning against the wall. I could feel her gaze on the side of my face. “When she actually does what she wants for once, instead of what everyone around expects of her.”

  “I don’t...I mean...”

  That wasn’t fair. Occasionally, I did what I wanted. Like just this morning, when I read a chapter ahead in To Kill a Mockingbird for Lit instead of waiting for the entire class to catch up. I swung around to tell my friends just how wrong they were, but stopped cold when my eyes took in the scene happening just a little farther up the hallway.

  Mason was walking in this direction, wearing the second of his new outfits: artfully distressed skinny denim with a blue flannel shirt and navy puff vest. A beanie on his head completed the look. He had his hand in his pocket and was closing in on a group of giggling girls standing in the middle of the hall.

  My heartbeat stuttered when I realized that Polly was one of the girls he was fast approaching. She was standing in the middle, in her tan corduroy mini skirt and leather boots, captivating the rest of the girls with a story. From my vantage point, I could just barely see the side of her face, but it was enough to know that she’d seen Mason, too. And that the sight of him in his new outfit had knocked her momentarily speechless. He walked up to her, almost in slow motion, and pulled his hand out of his pocket to reveal a folded triangle of paper.

  My stomach tilted. It was the love note! He was giving her the love note we’d worked on yesterday.

  “Case in point,” Mandy said next to me, drawing my attention back to her face. Her gaze flicked to Mason and then to me. “When are you going to do what you actually want, Trina?”

  I shouldered my backpack and frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I’m talking about Mason. What do you want with him?”

  That was easy: to finish our research project and see him finally happy. I opened my mouth to expl
ain it to my friends again — for the hundredth time — when my attention diverted back to the scene in the hallway. Polly had opened Mason’s note and seemed to be reading it silently in front of him. With a puzzled and hesitant expression, she folded it up and handed it back to him.

  Mason’s expression was stoney. Honestly, I couldn’t get a read on him to know if he was disappointed or not. It didn’t matter. I was disappointed enough for the both of us. So much for Polly melting at his feet. Apparently, I didn’t know womankind as well as I thought I did.

  Polly mouthed something to Mason, too quiet for me to hear, and turned to leave with her friends. Mason stared hard at her retreating back as my heart lurched in my chest for him. What had gone wrong? Mason had put himself on the line for her and she was just going to walk away? Did she know how hard that was for him?

  “Hello? Earth to Trina?” Audrey waved in my face, breaking my concentration. I blinked and looked at her, momentarily confused. “Did you hear what we said?”

  “That I should do what I want?”

  Her lips formed a smirk. “Something like that.”

  “Trust me. I already am.”

  I looked over to see Mason shaking his head. His lips moved, as if he were grumbling something to himself. Around him, the student body of Rock Valley High rushed by, on their way to practices or after school events. With a last grimace, he turned on the heel of his sneakers and headed back in the direction he’d come, totally oblivious to my observation. My heart lurched once again for him, but this time, the pain was joined by a guilty feeling digging into the pit of my stomach.

  Audrey and Mandy were totally wrong. I was doing what I wanted. Project Happiness was Exhibit A. And I’d selfishly forced Mason to join my project. So far, it seemed that I’d brought him nothing but pain and irritation. Zero happiness. I had to turn this thing around and fast.

  If there was one thing I’d learned in Research Methods 101, it was that Mason Finnick deserved to be happy. Despite the moodiness, the impressively deep frowns, and the brooding, he was a good guy. A great guy. And sweet when he wanted to be. Polly didn’t know what she was missing.