knees. “We won.”
“You’re very flexible,” he says. “It could give a guy some ideas.”
Maybe he caught me in the wrong mood, but I sit up and snap at him. “Why do you always go there?”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
Graham shrugs. “Hey, my buddies are hanging out on the baseball diamond. Do you want to go?”
I look around for Josh and Tyson, hoping they’ll rescue me. Josh and I didn’t make specific plans, but I figured we’d meet up here and drive home to check out my computer.
I look over at Cody again. He’s still with that girl, but now he’s jotting something in a notebook. He tears out a page and hands it to her. She smiles and hugs him goodbye, her hand lingering on the small of his back. They are definitely going to have sex.
“Sure,” I say to Graham. I grab my gym bag and hoist myself to my feet. “Let’s go.”
GRAHAM’S FRIENDS ARE GONE by the time we get to the baseball field, so we settle on a wooden bench in the dugout. My head is resting in his lap and he’s running his fingers under my shirt, trying to reach up my jog bra. I keep swatting away his hand.
“I’m too sweaty,” I say.
“I don’t mind. You always look hot after your meets.”
I push his hand away again. I’m wearing my orange mesh tank top with the cheetah on the front, and my black shorts. They’re faded and wrinkled from years of Cheetah girls before me.
Nothing about me feels sexy right now. Maybe I’m just tired from last night. Or maybe it’s because I can’t stop thinking about Emma Nelson Jones, and whether I really become an unhappy person with a husband who doesn’t come home.
Graham runs his hand back under my shirt. “You have an awesome stomach. Your belly button is so sexy.”
Maybe this is the best it gets.
This time, when Graham’s fingers touch my bra, I don’t push him away. I sit up and lean into him and we start kissing. His hand slides beneath my bra, and I turn to make sure no one can see us.
That’s when I notice Josh. He’s standing frozen near second base. I pull back from Graham and tug down on my top, but Josh is already sprinting away.
12://Josh
IT’S ALL TYSON’S FAULT! He went on and on about Sydney Mills, which made me want to hurry up and get back to Emma’s computer. So I left my board with Tyson and went to find Emma. She wasn’t on the track, but Ruby Jenkins told me she saw Emma heading toward the baseball fields.
Ruby didn’t say Emma was with Graham . If she told me that, I never would’ve gone up there.
Instead, I casually walked to the baseball fields, looking around. And then I saw Emma in the dugout. She was resting her head in Graham’s lap. His face was slung low like he was talking to her, and I fooled myself into thinking she was finally dumping him.
But then Emma sat up and started kissing him, and Graham’s hand shot up her shirt.
What the hell was that? Is that how she rejects a guy? Because it’s not how she rejected me.
Before I had a chance to turn around, Emma saw me. For a brief second, we looked right at each other. I don’t know what she was thinking, but I was feeling disgust and revulsion.
I’m sprinting back across the field, wanting to kick something or scream or beat the hell out of Graham.
“Did you find her?” Ruby asks as I pass the track.
“She’s not there!” I shout.
Out of breath, I make it back to the parking lot. Tyson is sitting on a concrete block, admiring my latest skateboard sketch of Marvin the Martian.
“Is Emma giving us a ride home?” he asks.
“No. Let’s just go,” I say.
Tyson holds out a hand and I pull him up. “Can you draw something like this on my board?” he asks. “Maybe Yosemite Sam?”
I grab one of the concrete blocks and begin dragging it toward the metal rods. “Can you help me with this?”
Tyson lifts the other end of the block. We position the concrete over the rods and shimmy it down to the asphalt.
“I’ve got a question for you,” Tyson