Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,83

know who must have been from Howard High. Marie stopped to say hi to Lynn, who was curled in the lap of Len Tenley, consoling him by planting little kisses on his nose while she ran a hand through his blond curls. He must have been taking the loss hard. Marie had every guy’s eyes on her as she bent down to whisper something to Lynn. Apparently, their friendship was in a better spot than mine and Candace’s, who I was nervous to see tonight.

“Can you believe she’s the same girl who I’ve heard growling at me when she steals the ball?” Dana said.

“Actually, yeah,” I said. I’d already thought about how we each hid ferocity under aspects of our so-called girliness, whether it was overt sexiness like Marie or quiet reticence like Franchesa. “I mean, you suck up to Assistant Principal Lawler like you’re Strawberry Shortcake or something, and I still have a bruise on my rib from your elbow.”

As Marie passed out red cups, I glanced across the room, my eyes landing on Joe, talking to yet another new girl. I squinted at him. He hadn’t said anything about going to this party. Not that he had to tell me everything he was doing—it’s not like I’d mentioned the party to him—but I wasn’t expecting to see him.

That’s when he spotted me and grinned, and my stomach lifted. What was going on with me?

“Hooligans,” Joe said in our direction as he pulled his cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it out in a nearby ashtray.

I flipped him off. Tina jabbed my shoulder with her red fingernail. “Oh, your soccer teacher boyfriend is here?”

I shook my head. “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said. “He’s with another girl.”

“That’s why he’s looking at you like he won a new car,” Tina said.

“I doubt it,” I said, and hid the smile that brought to my face. “He’s waiting for us to say hi.”

Our cups filled, I led Tina over. “Hey,” I said. “Are we the hooligans?”

“I haven’t met your friend, but you definitely fit the bill,” Joe said. We held eye contact in the crowded room; my heart thudded and my mouth tingled as Joe looked at my lips a split second too long. At least I thought he did. What Tina had said had clearly infected my mind.

The girl next to him coughed lightly and he held out his hand, as if presenting her. “Oh, this is Jeannette.”

“This is Tina,” I told him.

He extended a hand to her. “You’re one of Susan’s best friends,” he said matter-of-factly.

Tina offered him a big smile. “Yeah, except when she’s learning extra-secret soccer skills. She shared some moves, though, so I guess I owe you a thank-you.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” Joe said, smirking at me.

Jeannette wore a letterman’s jacket from St. Ann’s. “Do you play a sport?” I asked her.

She nodded and said, “Swimming, basketball, and softball. I think we might be getting soccer next year, and then I’ll quit swimming. I prefer to be on land.”

Joe laughed, like the remark was funnier than it was. Jeannette playing sports, and so many, made me size her up more carefully. She wasn’t as pretty as Joe’s first babe, or Lizzy—she looked more like a slightly taller version of me—but she struck me as more attractive than either of them because of the glint in her eye.

“Maybe we’ll play you next year,” I said.

Joe had turned to talk to a guy in the corner. Tina asked Jeannette, “How do you know Joe?”

Jeannette grinned. “I don’t. I saw his band play in my cousin’s garage, and when I saw him at this party, I had to talk to him.”

Tina shot a look at me. I knew what she was thinking: Jeannette had set her sights on Joe in a big way, and she was cute. But what was I supposed to do about it? The girl knew what she wanted, and Joe and I were just friends.

“Joe’s been helping me with soccer,” I said, sounding more territorial than I planned to. Jeannette was about to say something when Joe cut in.

“I taught her everything I know.” He pointed the edge of his cup at me and Tina. “Any news on more games?”

“No.” I sighed.

Joe opened his mouth to speak, but then something over my shoulder caught his eye. I turned, and saw that the redheaded guy who’d knocked into me had just come back inside. Felt letters on the back of his jacket spelled “SOCCER.”

“Fucking Ken,” he said. “I

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