Ten Times Fast Read online

  A. He’s our friend and

  B. I’ve been in love with Ryan Applebaum for three years and everyone knows it.

  I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize that I’m staring off into space with my eyebrows clenched together.

  “Earth to Ramona!” Jimmy waves his hand in my face. “Are you certain that they’re not dating? People don’t come to lacrosse games with signs for a player for no reason.”

  “Jimmy is right. I think they are dating. I’ve actually seen them together multiple times last week now that I think about it,” Veronica says, hesitantly.

  “Well, he never said anything at lunch last week. Maybe they’re...just friends.” I realize how juvenile I sound. Now that Veronica mentions it, I realize they’re totally together all the time in the hallway. That must be why she’s been glaring at me lately.

  Oh my god. I’m such an idiot. Face it, Ramona, you only saw what you wanted to see. Is "selective seeing" a thing?

  “Yeah, they’re friends––friends that fu–” Jimmy begins.

  I shoot him a dirty look that stops him. “Don’t.”

  “Well, what’s he going to say, Ramona? ‘Oh hey, I haven’t eaten lunch with you in awhile but I just wanted to let you know I’m fu–dating Daphne Kirchsnksky, she’s a–”

  “Kurchovsky,” Veronica corrects.

  “Whatever, like it even matters,” he continues, rolling his eyes sassily.

  “Is he supposed to say, ‘Ramona, I’m dating her. She’s most likely a demon and the worst person in the world. You might remember her from the atrocities she put you through throughout all of middle school and high school,’” Jimmy says in a petty voice that sounds nothing like Brett. “In all seriousness, why would he tell any of us? We don’t hang out with him anymore. Of course he’s still our friend but he doesn’t, like, confide,” Jimmy reasons.

  Veronica notices the look on my face. “Ramona, stop staring. I can see the steam coming out of your nose and ears. I’ll admit, she’s lame and I don’t understand it either, but don’t stare, she might eat your soul.”

  “Brett could do better...deserves better. I mean, Daphne, really?” I complain bitterly.

  “Well, no doubt Ramona, but who are we to judge? Plus, if Brett wants to sleep around or date around or whatever around he is perfectly free to do so,” Jimmy responds diplomatically. Jimmy is a good friend to Brett, growing apart aside. Jimmy supporting Brett’s choices proves it. I realize sheepishly that scrutinizing Brett’s choices makes me a bad friend, even if that choice is to date Daphne.

  “I just don’t want him to get–”

  “Hurt,” Veronica interjects. “We know, Ramona. Jimmy is right though. Daphne should be, like, the last choice for anyone but Brett is free to do whatever he wants. If he wants to date her, then fine. If he wants to have sex with her, then that’s fine too. Is it revolting and the worst choice he could ever make in his entire life? Highly possible.”

  “Can we please stop talking about Brett’s sex life? The game is about to start and there are like two dozen hot guys on the field that I need to drool over that aren’t Brett.” Jimmy tries focusing on the game. The whistle blows and a bunch of bodies with helmets and sticks start running around.

  “Wait, what’s happening? Where’s the ball? I don’t see it,” I say, squinting.

  “Why are they whipping their sticks back and forth like that?” Veronica questions.

  “That’s what she said,” Jimmy quickly retorts.

  “Centrifugal force. It’s so the ball won’t fall out.” I answer, focused on the game.

  “It’s physics, Veronica, you wouldn’t understand.” Jimmy adds.

  “Watch what you say. I know where you sleep, asshole. Oh–he has it!” Veronica exclaims, pointing.

  “Who? Brett?” Jimmy asks.

  “Oh, no...he lost it.”

  “Number 18, he has it!”

  “Wait, I thought he was number 37?”

  “He is.”

  “Who is? Brett?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then who is number 18?”

  “The one with the ball!”

  “No, wait. Now it’s with the opposite team.”

  “18 is on the opposite team?”

  “No! The opposite team has the ball.”

  “No, no, we have it. I see it now. Oh! Brett has it!” I exclaim, standing up in excitement.

  Brett weaves through one, two, three players and shoots the ball toward the goalie.

  “He scored!”

  The whopping crowd of forty cheers. We stand and scream.

  “How exciting!”

  “Does he usually score?”

  “No idea.”

  “What position does he play?”

  “The one in the middle? Is that a thing?”

  “Not a clue.”

  We hear Daphne scream and look over to see her jumping up and down. Honestly, I’m surprised her giant breasts don’t smack her in the face. I can see her nipples through her tight pink cashmere sweater all the way from up here. We all groan in disgust.

  “Okay, I’m officially nauseated,” I groan.

  “Let’s just try and get through the game ignoring her, okay? Let’s just focus on the guys and the ball,” Veronica reassures.

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Jimmy says.

  The players’ movements are fast paced and meticulously fluid. The other team is aggressively plowing through our players, punching and brutally bashing our guys––it’s an all out assault.

  “Wow, this game is really aggressive. I can hear their helmets clanking against each other from here. Is it always like this?” I ask, squinting to get a better look.

  “Yeah, are they allowed to hit each other like that?”

  “I don’t know. It’s pretty intense. They keep blowing the whistle on the other team though. That’s good, right?” I ask Jimmy.

  “They’re kicking the player out...I think. Yeah, it seems like they’re playing dirty,” Jimmy informs us, not that we fully understand.

  “At least they’re getting in trouble,” Veronica offers.

  “Oh my god! He has it again, you guys!” I exclaim.

  Brett makes good distance and is almost in shooting range when he gets majorly body checked. The crowd make a loud “ooooo.”

  Brett is on the ground with his helmet partially off and his stick a few feet away. We are all on our feet. The players rush over to him.

  “Oh my god, he looks dead,” Veronica says, grotesquely.

  “Oh my god, he’s dead,” I say somberly, my eyes glued to the crime scene.

  “Oh my god, you guys. He’s not dead,” Jimmy tells us.

  After a minute, Brett finally gets up and everyone, including the other team, starts clapping. He weakly manages to get to the sideline with the help of two other players.

  “I told you he wasn't dead,” Jimmy says. “Probably got the wind knocked out of him.”

  “Dang, he got hit hard. I can’t believe they’re allowed to do that,” I say.

  “They got in trouble for it. Looks like we’re about to take a penalty shot,” Jimmy tells us.

  “Ramona! It’s Chase! They’re putting in Chase to replace Brett!” Veronica beams.

  Chase runs on the field putting his helmet on. “He’s going to take the penalty shot.” We are standing again watching in anticipation. Veronica has her arm locked with mine and we are huddling from the cold.

  Chase preps the shot…

  Shoots…

  He scores!

  The crowd shouts and we jump up and down.

  “Awesome!” Veronica’s eyes are glued on Chase.

  “I wonder if Brett will go back in,” I wonder out loud.

  “Tough to say. I guess it depends on how badly he’s hurt,” Jimmy says. I look down at the bench to check on him. He’s icing his shoulder. I catch Jimmy eyeing me suspiciously. He consoles me quietly, “He’ll be fine but I doubt he’ll go back in.”

  Veronica
loudly and absent-mindedly mumbles, “Who knew lacrosse could be this exciting?”

  I smile because it’s blatantly obvious she is crushing on Chase.

  “Stop drooling, Veronica.”

  “Shut up, Jimmy.”

  “So...does Chase intrigue you? Does he obfuscate you? Does he excite you? Entice you?” Jimmy says in a sexy infomercial voice, waving his eyebrows up and down melodramatically.

  “Obfuscate? Seriously?” Veronica hassles him.

  “Shut up, it’s an SAT word.”

  “Oh, is ‘shut up’ one of them too?” Veronica teases, challengingly.

  “Oh please, Veronica, even you know that ‘shut up’ is two words.” She forcefully slaps his arm. “Oh, don’t cry, V. I see your lachrymose eyes,” he continues. This time, she punches him hard in the arm and he groans. “Okay, okay! I acquiesce.”

  “Smart ass. I took the SAT too, you know.”

  “I should just be taking boxing lessons from you, Jesus,” Jimmy pouts, rubbing his arm. Veronica grins smugly.

  Jimmy is smart enough to keep his SAT-word-wielding-mouth shut this time.

  “Lachrymose eyes...say that ten times fast,” I dare them.

  “Slackelmorsnize!” Jimmy ends up saying and we all giggle.

  The rest of the game goes by with far less excitement.

  We lose by two points.

  Womp, womp, womp.

  After the final whistle blows we stand and stretch.

  “Should we wait for Brett?” Veronica asks us.

  “Yes,” I say too quickly. “I mean, I think so. He asked us to come so I’m sure he wants to see us.”

  We start making our way down as the players start to head back to the locker room. Right before we get to Brett, Daphne runs up, jumps on him and wraps her legs around him.

  We all stop and groan in disgust.

  Well, Veronica and Jimmy groan, I’m pretty sure I growl with my canines showing. Brett makes a pained face and she dismounts him quickly. She wraps her arms around his neck instead and they start sucking face.

  “Seriously?” I say a lot louder than I intended. I put my hand over my mouth, embarrassed. Jimmy and Veronica laugh.

  “Ugh. Maybe we should just go, you guys,” Veronica suggests.

  Brett opens his eyes but continues kissing Daphne. We lock eyes while his mouth awkwardly moves over hers.

  It’s like a funhouse black-and-white spinning wheel that you know will make you sick if you stare too long, but you can’t help but stare anyways.

  As promised, the result is nausea.

  I’m not sure how many seconds go by until he finally pulls away from her. They exchange words and then she heads to the parking lot, shooting me a dirty look that transforms into a smug grin.

  “You guys came!” he says casually as if we didn’t just see him sucking face with a heinous demon.

  “Good game, man. That was an awesome goal,” Jimmy praises, giving Brett a manly hug.

  “Hey Veronica, thanks for coming.” They fist bump.

  Veronica blatantly looks around to find Chase.

  He finally looks at me and says, “Hey, Bean. I’d give you a hug but I’m pretty gross. I swear I usually don’t get hurt. Figures the game you guys come to is the one where I’m out the entire time.”

  “Looked like you got hurt pretty bad,” I manage to say.

  “Yeah, I’m already damn sore but it’ll be worse tomorrow,” he says, rubbing his shoulder. “What are you guys up to tonight?”

  “We’re going to go get food at the diner and then Bean is sleeping over,” Veronica answers, finally tuning into the conversation.

  “N64 will, no doubt, ensue. You’re welcome to join us,” Jimmy offers.

  “Oh, uh...” Brett winces and looks toward the parking lot. “I sort of have plans.”

  “For sure. Have fun. And good game.”

  “Yeah, good game,” Veronica says as we start to turn away.

  I’m the last to turn away. “Get some rest.” I flash him a polite forced grin. I do hate that he’s dating Daphne but I hate even more that he’s in pain.

  “Will do, Nurse Bean. Sleepover at the Wilder’s, huh? I’ll call you later.” He smiles and his eyes glisten like gold.

  Damn, his soft golden eyes!

  “Uh, okay. Bye,” I say, awkwardly. We both turn to walk our separate ways. I can’t remember the last time I talked to Brett on the phone.

  “Later, guys,” he calls out. “Thanks for coming!”

  I have zero idea of how and why he would call me while he’s going out with Daphne. I push the obsessive thoughts from my brain once I deduce that he most likely doesn’t even have my phone number anymore.

  Whatever.

  He has to go fornicate with Daphne and I have chili cheese fries to go eat.

  Chapter 9

  “I’M SO FUUULL,” JIMMY groans as we all plop on the old brown leather sofa in the Wilder’s basement. The leather is beat up to the point that it’s even softer than when it was brand new. The cushions still retain their plumpness, which makes it even more desirable.

  “Me too,” I agree.

  “It was so good though,” Jimmy says.

  “It was just fuel,” Veronica says. “Fuel so I have the energy to slay you all in Mario Kart!” She throws the square pillow she was sitting on at Jimmy.

  “Ugh, why are you so violent today?”

  “She’s violent every day,” I state, which earns me a pillow to the face. “I’m so tired already. I place the pillow behind my back.

  “No sleeping!” Veronica demands loudly. “N64! I’ll get the sleeping bags and pillows. J, set up the game.” Veronica somehow manages to bounce off the sofa and to the upstairs closet where all the blankets, sleeping bags and extra pillows are.

  “Bring down those two liters of soda!” Jimmy shouts.

  “Excellent idea,” I commend him. He glances at me while setting up the game.

  “You still really don’t like Daphne, do you?” he asks, but it comes out as a statement.

  “Nope,” I reply curtly.

  “You were just short of growling at her, Ramona,” Jimmy accuses.

  “I don’t like her just as much as you and Veronica don’t like her.”

  Lie. I definitely dislike her far more.

  Nobody knows that Daphne and I stopped being friends because she was rude to Brett. Friends were dropped, traded and replaced monthly in middle school. Nobody thought anything of it.

  He laughs. “Ramona, I know you have feelings for Brett. Be honest and tell him how you feel.”

  “What? I don’t have anything for Brett. And I don’t care what he does or with whom he does it, okay?” I deflect defensively.

  “Does V know about this?” He raises his eyebrows.

  “No!” My eyes go wide. “I mean, there’s nothing to know. I–uh–we’re friends and that’s it, just like it’s always been,” I ramble unconvincingly.

  Was I that obvious at the game?

  “All right, Ramona, I’m sorry. It’s just...it wouldn’t be outlandish, you know…if you did have feelings for him. The world wouldn’t end. Veronica and I wouldn’t mind if you care about him as more than a friend. I was teasing Veronica about it earlier, but it’s only because I know she would never like him. And who knows? Maybe he has feelings for you too. You guys have known each other for a long time. It wouldn’t be preposterous if you did have feelings for each other. It makes sense, is all I’m saying.”

  I nod just as Veronica stomps back down the stairs and dumps all the pillows and blankets over me. “Princess Ramona Scott, your bedding has been delivered.” I giggle and slide off the sofa to the floor remaining under the pile of fluff. “I’m going to go get the soda, I’ll B-R-B.” She runs back upstairs.

  I peak my head out of the blanket and look at Jimmy pleadingly. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing, J. Please don’t tell her anything.”

  “Of course. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

  �
��Thanks.”

  “Okay, here’s some Dr. Pepper,” Veronica announces, twisting a cold liter of soda in front of Jimmy’s face.

  “And here’s your controller, Bowser, evil antagonist. So fitting,” Jimmy comments, swapping Veronica for the soda as she rolls her eyes. He swirls off the lid and takes a chug out of the chilled, freshly opened bottle.

  The controller chords don’t reach all the way to the sofa so we sit on the floor and rest our backs against it. We could move the sofa closer, but we’ve always done it this way.

  The game flickers on and we each pick our respective characters:

  Veronica, as Bowser,

  Myself as Yoshi

  And Jimmy as Princess Peach.

  If Brett were here, he would be Luigi.

  Tonight, the computer plays the fourth player.

  After another liter of soda, ice cream, popcorn and a million games of Mario Kart and Diddy Kong Racing we crash hard around two in the morning.

  My bladder is too small to handle all the Dr. Pepper and an hour later I make my way to the bathroom. I grab my phone to use it as a flashlight. When I reach the bathroom, I see that I have an unread text message.

  Brett: Hey, are you awake still?

  I check and see what time it was sent. 2:45 AM. Only twenty minutes ago.

  Me: Yes. Brett?

  I’m not expecting a response. I’m sure he’s gone to bed by now. My phone lights up immediately while I’m mid-stream.

  Brett: Yeah :) what are u guys doing?

  Me: Everyone’s asleep. I’m peeing.

  Brett: Hahaha Glad I can entertain you while your pants are down. ;)

  My eyes widen from his forward text. He is without a doubt flirting with me. I narrow my eyes and type back.

  Me: You would be so lucky.

  Brett: I know. Wish I coulda come. Had plans though.

  Right. Who could forget. Bonking Daphne.

  Me: Hope it was...satisfying.

  Brett: It was ok. Would’ve been better if u were there.

  What the–?! Ew!

  This conversation has to end.

  Me: Are you drunk?

  Brett: ??? No. Are you?

  Me: No. I have to sleep. Bye.

  Brett: Are u ok?

  Me: Fine. Later.

  Brett: Nite, Ramona. Sorry I didn’t text earlier. I was tied up.

  Oh my god! Tied up?