16 | Think Of Me Fondly

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Despite the smashing success of the car wash-brat fry combo, Bradshaw was in a physical disarray that following Monday.

Due to the their success, Sami treated Rosalie and Ray to Starbucks that morning. It started out as a bright and sunny day, only to turn into overcast through the five-mile drive to campus. Ray perched herself in the middle of the backseat, leaning over the center console to play DJ. She sucked down half of her iced coffee as Rosalie twirled the milk around in hers.

It was as Rosalie was popping the bubbles on her lid that she heard Sami's horrified gasp of, "Oh no..."

Ray and Rosalie looked up. Ray cursed under her breath, and Rosalie was too terrified to voice her opinion on the state of Bradshaw's parking lot.

Every row of trees were strung together with strips of toilet paper. It gave the edge of the property line zebra stripes up and down, and to top it off, someone had spray painted red lines between the rows of parking spots. Sami followed one such line to his usual parking spot just a few spots down from where Lennie's Maserati sat in all its horrible glory.

"Oh no, Lennie..." Rosalie moaned, hand over her mouth.

Lennie's Knights' blue Maserati was now marred by blood-red lines over the hood, the windshield, and over the trunk. Several of the soccer guys stood around it, Jace Clemons and Jamie-Lee among them.

Ray was out of Sami's car first. "What the fuck face? I know it's Adams, but please tell me it wasn't Adams," she said, storming over to the soccer guys. Rosalie dragged her backpack out of the front seat, and emerged from the car. Her eyes went up to the toilet paper dangling overhead, and then to their blood-stained parking lot.

"Seems red and black are coming back," Clemons said, scuffing a shoe against the asphalt. "I think we all know who's excited for the game tomorrow."

"At least they didn't trash your car," Jamie said what Lennie couldn't. Lennie had his forehead over the hood of his car.

"I just got it washed, too..." he whined against the metal. Sami walked over and laid a hesitant hand on Lennie's shoulder, followed by an awkward pat.

"I don't even own a car," Rosalie said, and Jamie shrugged as if it made no difference.

"Fifty bucks says it's Birchmeir," Clemons said. "He streaked last year's Homecoming powderpuff game."

Lucas Birchmeir was a senior defender for the Adams High Lions boys soccer team. The Lions, despite their uppity, militant strategies and personalities, were all pure demons outside of school and practice. Their coach was known for keeping them all on strict schedules otherwise. Rosalie heard once that Adams High had a wide variety of cafeteria options, but the soccer players were restricted to protein shakes, granola bars, and the bland healthy diet options in the never-visited-once-by-the-school-population corner of the cafeteria.

"Blake Miles has had it out for me since he became captain last year," Lennie said, straightening up. He looked wretched, which was really saying something because Hollister was likely mourning the loss of their best model to eye bags right this very moment. "Their captains have this... grudge against any Knights captain."

"Really? I've never had an issue," Rosalie said, arms crossed.

"That's because you're perfect and don't start fights, Rosie," Sami said, and followed it with a sweet smile. Jamie nodded in agreement from over the hood, and his smile didn't falter when Rosalie turned a glare onto him.

"I don't think they have any regard for how many volunteer hours the Knights' soccer captains clock in at Children's Hospital," Rosalie deadpanned.

"You volunteer at Children's Hospital?" Lennie said.

"Over the summers sometimes," she said self-consciously, rolling her shoulders back. "But that's besides the point! Point being—what the hell did you do to piss Blake Miles off?"

From what Rosalie had seen over social media, heard, and witnessed in person, Blake Miles was an actual model. Not for anyone specific, but Rosalie vividly remembered the time she was flitting through a Kohl's clothing rack, only to be bombarded by a banner sky-high of Blake Miles' perfect face. She had nightmares of it—if... nightmares included strikingly handsome black men with cheekbones that could cut through any woman's (or man's) heart.

It was because of this, and the fact that Alyssa was friends with him on Facebook, that Rosalie knew he looked especially good in Lions' red and black, and also in floral-printed pantsuits.

"Why would you piss him off?" Rosalie corrected. "He's a perfect human being who doesn't deserve to be pissed off."

"Right? Thank you!" Ray said.

"I can't believe you're siding with the enemy," Clemons said with a disappointed shake of his head.

Jamie raised a hesitant hand. "I... have to concur with these two lovely ladies. Again, not gay, just a little fruity, and the fruit in me says that Blake Miles is a fine specimen."

"Jamie!" Lennie cried in horror, hands over his face. He threw his arms up in frustration. "Why am I friends with you?! You know how much I hate Miles!"

"You just hate him because he's your competition," Jamie said in a snooty voice, and Ray clapped her hands together and cackled. "Besides, Miles is an icon. You can't just hate him."

"I can, and I will," Lennie said with conviction, pushing away from his car. He bumped Clemons with his shoulder and gestured to school. "And we'll kick his and the Lions' collective ass tomorrow. No drooling on the field."

"I can and I will be drooling at the sight of Miles," Jamie promised, and Rosalie shared a look with Sami that said just about everything on that matter. Jamie-Lee Berry was as hopeless as they came.

They left the parking lot and headed for the Bradshaw steps. As Rosalie, Ray, and Sami stepped up onto the curb, their eyes turned to where Principle O'Gallagher was surveying the damage of the parking lot with a police officer and school security. Ray muttered under her breath, "Yikes," before they continued onwards.

There were plenty of schools with red as their signifying color, but the fact that the match was tomorrow night made Adams High the main target of O'Gallagher's fury. He'd no doubt be contacting the school before the first morning bell rang. Rosalie wasn't exactly new to team rivalries, but she never felt the need to bash Adams for being anything other than spectacular at what they did. Of course it was infuriating, but she couldn't imagine what sort of thorn the Knights were to the Lions. If it weren't for Bradshaw, Adams would have no problem making it to State every year, and then Regionals.

"Earth to Rosalie..." Ray sang, waving a hand in front of her face. She stuttered to a halt in the middle of the foyer. "I gotta go meet up in the cafeteria for a group project. See you at lunch?"

"Yes, definitely," Rosalie promised.

She was left with Sami, but not for long. He offered an apologetic smile and pointed off in the direction of the art wing. "I've got an underpainting to start," he confessed. "I'll see you at lunch though! Be there or be square."

"You know I hate that phrase, Sami," she sighed, turning away and heading for the senior wing.

"And I know you secretly love it," he said, and winked before spinning off and all but skipping through the foyer on his way to Miss Calhoun's class.


***


Practices weren't as brutal as they used to be. Everyone had gotten used to their own sense of failure upon making one out of a dozen shots at Joanna, but at least now the Knights' primary strikers were making the shots. It took a lot of forethought, huddled around Coach Maguire, debating the best tactic to trick Joanna. That was how they had to play it, anyways. They couldn't get it past Joanna with straight-shots.

They had to keep her running back and forth order to score, which also meant dealing with all of their ace defenders fighting for the ball. After one such event, Brynn kicked Rosalie's shin so hard she collapsed onto her side and rolled onto her back. She stared at the sky until Brynn peered over her with an apologetic, "Sorry. Oh, gosh, I didn't mean to kick you so hard."

"Suggests you meant to kick her," Alyssa commented from farther back on the court.

Brynn grabbed Rosalie by the hand and heaved her up. Rosalie staggered to her feet and tested the weight on her foot. Everything was fine. "We're good," she reassured Brynn, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

"McAllister!" Maguire called from the sidelines. Erin saluted her to let Coach know she was listening. "Mason—try Plan B."

"Pff, Plan B," Brynn giggled. Ray whacked her upside the head as she passed. "Ouch! Just saying what's on everyone's mind."

Plan B was iffy with Joanna wearing the gloves, but Adams had yet to see a goalie like her in several years. Long shots were easier for Joanna to intercept, even factoring in curves from angled kicks. They settled back on the midfield line, Rosalie center field with the ball. Juliana squared up across from her, and given the circumstances, their gazes were deadly.

The instant Coach Maguire blew the whistle, Rosalie sent the ball off to Ray, who popped it back as Rosalie ran forward, waiting for the pass. She doubled its momentum on the way to Erin, who was blocked by Lu.

Lu jumped for the ball, slamming up against Erin's side as she head butted it. It careened off towards Brynn, who kicked the ball straight up and sent it off towards Alyssa and Jordan.

Alyssa rammed her shoulder into Jordan's back, sliding her foot out to catch the ball. Alyssa ran with it, back towards the midfield line. She glided close to the edge of the field, avoiding their opponents before finding an opening.

Ray had her hand up, hurrying away from her wingback racing to intercept the ball. Thankfully, though, Alyssa had a powerful kick that swept fast enough for Ray to twist it behind her and away from the left wingback. She ran with it towards Joanna, who stuck to the inside of the goal, arms out.

Rosalie raced to her position, sidestepping and spinning around her defender before finding a break to intercept Ray's kick. She sent it forward before pushing it off to Erin, who sprinted towards it with a powerful swing of her right leg. A spray of grass kicked up with her cleats, and the ball that went darting to the far corner of the goal. Joanna's glove grazed it, and it wound up hitting the top metal bar instead, but it was as close as it could be.

Erin held up her fists with an excited holler, and Brynn gave her a congratulatory high five.

Rosalie jogged past the goal to go fetch the ball. She followed it down the ditch and, after popping it up into her hands with her foot, she looked up beyond the track fields to the soccer stadium. It was the boys team's turn on the field, which left the girls to the smaller, open fields raised up behind the track and football field. The boys team would be going against Adams at that stadium, so while they'd spend the afternoon on Bradshaw territory, Maguire would round up the girls into the bus heading across Montgomery County to Adams High.

Rosalie remembered her freshmen year and how intimidating Adams High was. The three private schools in the county included Bradshaw, McKinley, and Adams—all of which had an impressive athletic career under their belts. McKinley was more known for their stellar football and volleyball teams—Dylan Cox likely already complained to Joanna about them because of it. The previous year, the Knights went up against the McKinley Saints football team during Homecoming weekend and were absolutely crushed. Rosalie only remembered because a freshmen football guy wound up in their Homecoming group because he'd asked Erin McAllister out for the occasion. He spent a small portion of the dining conversation regaling them of the details of their defeat. He was just a benchwarmer, anyways, and saw the entire annihilation from afar.

"Rosie," someone said from behind her on the bus heading for Adams. She tipped her head back and found Joanna leaning over the back of her seat, ginger hair tickling Rosalie's nose. She batted it away and sputtered a few strands out of her mouth.

"I regret looking up," she whined, only to prompt Joanna to swing around the seat and collapse beside her on the bench. "What?"

"You were zoning hardcore. Fox flicked a paper football over your head and you didn't even bat an eye," Joanna said. Rosalie glanced over to Brynn's seat a few rows back. Brynn smiled with her rainbow braces and waved innocently. "You good?"

Rosalie turned forward again, and spared a short look at Joanna. Joanna had her fake glasses on, like always, though her piercings had vanished into her locker back at Bradshaw. Were it not for the dark tattoo on her forearm, Rosalie would have assumed Joanna was yet another adolescent soul caught in the pseudo-normality forced upon them by their parents.

She pointed to Joanna's arm.

"I've been wondering what that is."

Joanna turned her forearm up, and revealed a flat line drawing of a detached hand gingerly holding what appeared to be a lantern emitting smoke. "I was in Norway. Told the artist to go crazy," she said, and Rosalie raised an eyebrow at her. "What? I like the artist. She's cute and has killer skills."

"Skills in what?" Brynn teased from over the seat.

Joanna swung her arm up with out looking and nailed Brynn in the forehead.

As Brynn shrieked and fell backwards over the bench, Joanna went on. "Not as cute as you, obviously. I'm a monogamous kind of girl, but that doesn't meant I don't appreciate the greater female population."

Rosalie tensed, breath caught in her throat. She turned her wide eyes to the seat in front of her, and cleared her throat as she looked down at her lap. "We aren't dating."

"I know. I just like to see you get all flustered," Joanna said, tipping her cheeky smile to the side as she leant her head back against the seat.

Rosalie put a hand over her cheek, only to worsen the heat settling in there.

"Also, it distracted you, didn't it?" she said, and at this, Rosalie peeked over at Joanna. "From worrying about the game. Just think about me in a bikini on the hood of a Lamborghini if you start the stress about it."

Rosalie felt like her chest was about to rupture from the combination of holding her breath, and feeling the slow but firm beating of her heart. "Well now I'm stressing about that image you just gave me," she whined, tipping forward to press her forehead to the seat in front of her.

Joanna threw her head back laughing. She swept her feet into the aisle and stood with a lazy salute. "Think of me..." she began singing, dramatically, with a swoop of her arm out in Rosalie's direction. The girls around them started giggling as Rosalie turned progressively redder. "Think of me fond-ly when we've said good-bye—!"

"Spencer!" Maguire scolded, only to be interrupted by a round of applause from across the bus. Joanna turned a bow to her adoring fans and blew a kiss towards one of the sophomore girls who feigned swooning.

The bus came to a halt at the front of Adams high, and it sent Joanna stumbling into the nearest row where Alyssa sat near the window. Joanna winked at her, only to be met with a disinterested scowl from Alyssa.

At the front of Adams High was a massive grass courtyard standing before what appeared to be a replica of a building straight from Oxford University, or some old-English mansion. Its central focus was a three-tiered brick structure topped with a clock beneath a squarish, castle-like trim. All the windows were narrow and tall, and pushed out from the brick walls.

Seeing it again pushed on the deep-set jealousy inside of Rosalie. She tried to bury it further with each passing year, but it only festered in the dark. Adams High had a plethora of alumni who found themselves at prestigious ivy league schools—not that Bradshaw didn't, but Adams was known for it. Rosalie never even considered ivy leagues as an option, but it didn't stop her from wishing, and resenting everyone from Adams High who got an acceptance letter from Harvard.

The bus brought them to the curb on the outskirts of Adams' courtyard. There were empty buses already waiting further ahead in the parking lot. Coach Maguire stopped to talk to the bus driver and urged Rosalie to take the team ahead.

As the Knights began the trek across the cobble pathway leading up to the stairs, the doors opened and the sound of students came forth in a wave of red and black. Their shorts and athletic bags made it obvious who, exactly, they were, and Rosalie found it difficult to keep her scowl in check.

The Adams' soccer boys started across the cobble path, approaching the Bradshaw girls with a facade of cheerful smiles. They all look like their mothers combed their hair back, Rosalie thought bitterly, only to stop at the sight of Blake Miles at the lead.

Every entrance Blake Miles made could have been a cinematic masterpiece. Their steps slowed. The wind pushed in from the north, catching on his mane of perfect curly hair. He tossed his head, blindingly white smile contrasting against his tanned, olive skin and showing off his perfect fucking smile lines.

Blake Miles' doe eyes flitted to their team, and it wasn't until Rosalie found herself a few paces away that she realized that their steps really had slowed.

An excited gasp came out of Blake, and he slapped a hand on his thigh and cried, "Alyssa! My love, I didn't think I'd see you so soon!"

"Blake!" Alyssa cried to the astonishment of their entire team. She raced forward, leaping up and into Blake's waiting arms. Blake spun them, and the remainder of the boys team all said their hellos—all thirty-fucking-three of them. Rosalie swore she was hallucinating.

Alyssa's feet returned to the ground, but Blake kept his arms around her. "I'm so thrilled to go to Homecoming with you," he said. "I've already arranged transportation. I know you said you wanted a limo, but my father's lending me his car with the doors that go—woosh!" He swung both arms up like wings, and Alyssa was beside herself with excitement.

Rosalie was too appalled by Alyssa's betrayal to fully comprehend what was going on, and who, exactly, Alyssa asked to Homecoming. Blake looked delighted by everything that came out of Alyssa's mouth just then, but he then became momentarily distracted by the remainder of the Knights. He tossed an arm around Alyssa's shoulders and went to Jade, who was blushing up a storm, and started there with shaking hands.

Rosalie put a hand to her forehead when she realized that he was the type of guy who shook hands with both hands. He took Juliana's hand in both of his own and bent down to give her hand a kiss. "You look incredible today," he declared, looking her directly in the eyes. "What is your name?"

"Um... Juliana Lane," she said, and just the girlish tone in her voice had Rosalie melting. He hooked Juliana. How could he do such a thing?!

"Add me on Facebook," he said, pulling away to look at the group of them. He clasped his hands together under his chin, his smile contagious. "All of you! Just—add me on

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