Perfectly Damaged
Page 35My arms are glued to my side while I try to regain my fuzzy thoughts. “Jenna! Oh my God, how are you?” She pulls away, holding me at arm’s length. “I’m so sorry to hear about Brooke.” She shakes her head. “It’s just a shame. A big ole shame.” She shakes her head again.
“Uh, thanks?” She didn’t know Brooke, but everyone in our town and those who went to the same high school as we did were well aware of what happened to her. It was all over the news and media, which I made a point to stay away from.
Blair Bitch drags her palms down my biceps, past my forearms, and grips my hands firmly. I’m still trying to figure out what kind of alternate universe I just stepped into where my archenemy would approach me in such a manner, when she says, “I just want you to know I forgive you for your past aggressions, and I hope we can become really good friends. After all, we’re not in high school anymore.”
“Um, okay.”
Bryson is now on the dock beside us. He leans in and pecks her cheek. “Hey, babe.” Babe? Oh my God, it just registered. Blair Bitch is babe. They’re dating.
Blair steps back and wipes her cheek. “Bryson!” she chastises. “I’ve spent all morning on my makeup.”
“Sorry.” He half smiles. “I didn’t think you’d be coming. How do you two know each other?” He points between us.
Blair smiles at me like we’re BFFs or something. “We went to high school together.”
“Cool,” Bryson says. “Want to play with us, babe? We’re about to start a game.” He lifts the football in his hand.
“No.” She laughs. “You know I don’t play any sports.”
Bryson shrugs. “Just figured I’d ask. All right, you can watch, then.” He turns and jumps into the lake, making a splash upon contact.
“Well, I guess I should get in there,” I say, backing away, an awkward smile plastered to my face. This is weird. The entire scene is weird. I need to get in the lake. I remove my cover-up before jumping in.
“That’s Blair Bitch. We went to high school together. We weren’t exactly friends,” I say with my eyes on Blair. She’s standing with a huge smile, waving over at us.
Logan swims up beside me, his face irritated. “Great. There goes my night. How do you know Mega Bitch?”
I laugh. “You call her Mega Bitch? My nickname for her in high school was Blair Bitch. I haven’t seen her in four years, not since I graduated. I’m guessing things haven’t changed?”
“Nope,” he says, narrowing his eyes in her direction. “She’s still a bitch.”
“Good to know.”
Bryson claps his hands. “All right, let’s start!”
We’re all scattered around. Bryson holds out the football and taps his hand against it. “Hut”—he looks to the right—“hut”—he looks to his left—“hike!” He tosses the ball toward Danny, and Logan immediately closes in on him. Logan jumps to midair and then grabs the football, taking it down with him under water. Seconds later he jumps up with the ball in his hand. I jump up clapping. “Go!” I yell out excitedly.
Never having played a sport before, I didn’t expect it to be this fun. Logan hurries through the water, dodging the other guys. Justin throws his body forward, grips Logan by the shoulders, and tackles him under the water.
Yikes. Charlie and I jog through the water toward them the best we can. Logan finally jumps back up, football still in hand, and keeps going.
“Touchdown!” Logan yells out, splashing the football into the water when he reaches our touchdown tree.
Charlie and I scream and yell, jumping up and down. “YES!” We reach him, and he lifts both hands toward us for high fives. “That’s how you do it.” He winks at me.
“Jenna, you’re going to throw the ball, okay?” Logan says to me.
Wide-eyed, I respond, “Uh, no. Have Santino or Charlie. I’ve never played before.”
“I’ll show you. Santino and Charlie are going to spread out as far as possible, and you’re going to throw the ball to them.”
Charlie nods. “You can do it, girl.” Then she swims farther down.
I look around; everyone is waiting for me. “What if I screw it up? I’ve never thrown a football before, Logan.” I turn, facing him.
His mouth forms a full smile—an adorable, infectious, completely beautiful smile. “No worries. I’ll show you.” He turns me to face everyone, then presses his front to my back. My chest expands. He leans his head down and presses his cheek to mine. “Left or right?” he murmurs against my skin.
I sink into him. “Huh?”
He chuckles. “Are you left- or right-handed?”
I swallow. “Oh, I’m…” What am I again? “Right. Yeah, definitely right-handed.”
“Are you sure?” I can hear the humor in his tone. I nod, distracted by my cheek brushing against his freshly grown facial hair.
“All right.” He reaches for my hand, lifts it, and places the football on my palm. “How does that feel?” His breath cools my skin.
“You have to grip it a bit tighter,” he says. My left hand grips his firmly. “The ball, Jenna. You need a firm grip on the football so it doesn’t slip out of your hand.”
“Oh.” I press my fingers into leather skin of the ball. “Like that?”
“Yeah, good.” His fingers press over mine, and then he slightly lifts my arm, with his right behind it, over our heads. I have to reach up on my tiptoes because he’s much taller than me. Logan brings his left hand to my stomach, pressing me firmly against his chest. “Who do you want to toss the ball to?”
I flash my eyes open. Dammit, I didn’t realize they were closed. I look around. All eyes are on us, waiting patiently.
“Charlie,” I say. She’s more open than Santino.
“Sure?” he asks. I nod.
“All right, I’m going to bring our arms back just a bit more. When I say let go, just let go of the ball and let it fly over to her. Okay?” I nod. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
Logan does as he said he would, bringing back our arms then swinging them forward. He lifts me a bit higher with his left arm and yells out, “Let go!”