Awkwardly Ever After

Book 0: Smith High

by Marni Bates

Genres: YA Social Themes; YA Romance

Synopsis

"Fans of Meg Cabot will find Marni's voice equally charming and endearing." --Julie Kagawa, New York Times bestselling author It's prom season at Smith High School and love is in the air. . .for some people. Melanie Morris knows she shouldn't keep flirting with her best friend's brother, Dylan Wellesley, even though the last thing she feels is "sisterly" around the cute soon-to-be freshman. But attending prom with somebody else might mean losing him for good. . . Isobel Peters accepts the fact that she's a huge geek, but she never expected renowned player, Spencer King, would want to get his hands on. . .her reputation. What begins as a bargain could turn into something real--or a Notable disaster! Corey O'Neal is dating the boy of his dreams, rockstar Timothy Goff. But it isn't easy to trade in anonymity for instant celebrity status, especially now that swarms of protesters want them both banned from prom. Dating Prince Charming in real life is a whole lot harder than it sounds in fairytales. Happily ever after? Try awkwardly ever after! "Relatable characters, hot guys, and sassy high school drama!" -- Seventeen Magazine on Invisible "Light and fun. . .Notable captures the essence of today's teen culture." -- VOYA on Notable

Release date: June 24, 2014

Publisher: K-Teen

Print pages: 304

Sample

There’s no good way to tell your friend that you’ve got a crush on her little brother.

It’s not the kind of thing that I could imagine slipping into a casual phone conversation.

“Hey, it’s Melanie. Listen, is Dylan around? Because I was kind of hoping the three of us could hang out together. Why would I want to do that? Well, you know how you just see him as your annoying little brother? Yeah, nothing about him seems brotherly to me.”

Oh yeah, that wouldn’t get weird or anything.

In fact, mentioning Dylan at all seemed downright dangerous for my health. It’s generally considered a bad idea to provoke an overly protective person, and beneath the thin layer of insults Mackenzie and Dylan enjoyed slinging at each other, there was an intense sibling loyalty. All it would take for Mackenzie to go into full mother grizzly bear mode was the vaguest rumor that some high school girl was interested in dating her middle school brother.

I doubted she would care that there was only a one-year age gap; that next year he would be a freshman and I’d be a sophomore. Or that the year after that, he would be a sophomore and I’d be a junior.

Perfectly normal.

Except for the whole little brother factor—which I couldn’t imagine Mackenzie Wellesley ever overlooking—the two of us would barely raise eyebrows as a couple by next year’s prom.

Just over twelve months from now.

“Um, Melanie? You do realize that you’re staring at my boyfriend’s butt, right?”

Actually, I hadn’t. My mind had been wandering and apparently my eyes had made a little side trip of their own. Mackenzie’s eyes were glinting with amusement, so instead of trying to deny it, I leaned back in my chair and took another sip of hot chocolate before I gestured to the rink in front of us where the Smith High School hockey team was practicing.

“Not my fault. It’s . . . wow.”

“Yes, it is.” Mackenzie’s smile only broadened as Logan skated past with a look of pure concentration on his face. “But if he sees you staring, it might get a little awkward and . . . oh no!”

I turned just in the nick of time to catch Patrick Bradford checking Logan hard, sending him sprawling across the ice. My nose wrinkled in contempt—the standard expression whenever I was forced to share the same room with Patrick. Thankfully, it didn’t happen all that often because he didn’t exactly associate with lowly freshmen. He was far too busy trying to climb the Smith High School social ladder to spare a second for someone who wouldn’t propel him up a rung.

Patrick’s delusions of grandeur wouldn’t have bothered me if I hadn’t seen Mackenzie’s devastated expression when she finally figured out that he was more interested in her sudden rise to YouTube celebrity than he was in her as a person. She had looked absolutely shredded. I still felt a twinge of guilt every time I thought about that night. My first high school party. My first party, period. I was supposed to have been going as moral support for Mackenzie. Instead, I had accidentally let her drink to the point that she couldn’t walk in a straight line, because I was too preoccupied flirting with her little brother to notice.

To be fair, he had started flirting with me first.

Although that still didn’t make him any less off-limits.

So even now that Mackenzie was obnoxiously happy with Logan Beckett, I still blamed Patrick for the way it had gone down. Maybe I would have tried harder to let bygones be bygones if Patrick would stop taking cheap shots against his own team captain to prove some kind of stupid guy point.

But probably not.

Mackenzie let out a quiet breath of relief as Logan picked himself off the ice and his best friend, Spencer King, skated over and glowered at Patrick. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Spencer was more than ready to throw a few punches if it turned into an outright brawl.

“Okay, all good.” She smiled at me. “You were saying?”

I decided to test whether she would actually be able to focus on me with a testosterone-fueled display only a few feet away on the ice. “Um . . . that your boyfriend is cute?”

“Right. Yes. That’s undeniably—oh, seriously!”

Logan said something to Patrick that had the other boy glaring and moving within striking distance.

“So I take it things are still kind of awkward there.”

“Uh-huh . . .” Mackenzie nodded absentmindedly. She jerked upright in her seat as Patrick tossed his stick aside and launched himself at Logan. “If he gets a concussion, I’m going to kill him. It’s hard enough getting him to concentrate already.”

“You sure that doesn’t have something to do with your being more than just his tutor now?” I asked wryly. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Logan Beckett hated his AP U.S. History class—something that had actually brought the two of them together before Mackenzie’s embarrassing YouTube video launched her into fame. Now that they were dating, though, I had a feeling he was trying to find new ways to distract her from the books.

And judging by the blush that crept up her neck, his efforts weren’t entirely unsuccessful either.

“Nope, I’m sure that has nothing to do with it.”

I rolled my eyes.

“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

“Sure, Mackenzie. And that hickey I see peeking out under your shirt is a coincidence, right?”

“Absolutely.”

I laughed until I saw Logan haul off and slug Patrick in the stomach. “Okay, yeah, coincidence. Don’t sic your boyfriend on me, please.”

She laughed. “We both know that Logan’s totally harmless.”

It didn’t look like Patrick would agree with that statement as the rest of the team rushed over to surround the two boys. I barely caught a glimpse of Spencer grabbing a solid handful of Patrick’s jersey and cheerfully pulling him away from his friend. From where Mackenzie and I were sitting, I couldn’t be certain if Spencer had tripped Patrick up in the process, but I definitely enjoyed watching the jerk slide five feet across the ice . . . on his face.

“Um, okay. That was impressive.”

Mackenzie swiveled toward me and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that her brain had jumped to the wrong conclusion. “Really? Because I happen to know that Spencer is very single.”

“Uh . . . good for him.”

“And the two of you would make a really cute couple, Melanie. Kind of a Beauty and the Beast thing.”

I glanced over at Spencer, who had taken off his helmet and was explaining the situation to the coach while Patrick sulked and Logan scowled. Spencer’s blond hair flopped charmingly across his forehead while he gestured animatedly from one boy to the other. It looked like the guy honestly enjoyed breaking up fights. Although I had a feeling he would’ve enjoyed it even more if he had gotten in a few blows of his own.

“In this scenario, I’m guessing I’m the beast?”

“You’re right, Melanie. I took one look at you and thought, Wow, that girl needs a total fashion makeover. Oh wait, nope. That’s what you gave me.”

To be fair, it was Mackenzie’s friend Corey who had been most adamant about giving her a fashion makeover. I just happened to tag along, the lone freshman on their island of misfit toys.

“I guess technically it would be a beauty and the beauty scenario.” Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “I still stand by my earlier statement.”

I flipped a page in the textbook that I should’ve been concentrating on from the very beginning of our “study session” instead of staring out at a rink full of hockey players. Next time I crashed a practice session, I needed to make sure I didn’t actually have to accomplish anything. Maybe if I could distract myself long enough with the guys on the hockey team, my feelings for Dylan would just evaporate.

My best friend, Isobel Peters, would’ve had no trouble poking holes in that plan. Then again, Izzie also wasn’t preoccupied deflecting a conversation away from Spencer King.

“So, about this whole Boston Tea Party thing . . . did anyone actually drink the tea, Mackenzie? Or make crumpets to go with it? Because that sounds delicious.”

“You’re using American history to make me shut up about Spencer, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“That’s pretty nefarious.”

I grinned, willing to bet that a true history nerd like Mackenzie would combust in a matter of minutes if she didn’t answer my questions. “Scones, maybe? With, uh . . . clotted cream. That was a thing, right?”

Mackenzie’s smile widened as the team began filing off the ice, and she closed my textbook with a faint thud before she began packing up. “You’re not going to distract me that easily. I think the two of you would be cute together. He might act like he only cares about partying, but he’s a really great guy once you get to know him. And he’s loyal to a fault.”

“Riiight,” I snorted. “That’s why he gave you all those tequila shots at his party. Because he’s such a stand-up guy.”

“He was trying to make my night a little better.”

I remembered the panic that had sharpened Dylan’s soft brown eyes when he realized how trashed his older sister had become while he was preoccupied dancing with me. And it had gotten worse when Mackenzie started drunkenly rambling about their dad.

That’s when his face had turned into a cold, unreadable mask.

Dylan barely spoke another word to me for the rest of the night, even after we’d successfully hauled Mackenzie’s drunken butt into Logan’s passenger seat. Instead, he had mumbled something about helping Spencer police the party, and disappeared into the crowd.

Leaving me standing alone outside like a loser, until Corey stopped by the party and offered us a ride to the Wellesley house on the way back from a date of his own.

Not that I’d been on a date with Dylan.

It doesn’t count as a date if the other person randomly decides to avoid you for hours on end.

“Yeah, Spencer definitely went out of his way to make that night special. If he had ‘improved’ it any more, your stomach would’ve been pumped.”

“That was my fault,” Mackenzie protested. “I’m the one who kept drinking even after he tried to cut me off. And I learned my lesson. Tequila and I will never be on speaking terms again. But that doesn’t make him a bad guy. In fact, I’ll prove it to you.”

I eyed her suspiciously. “Just what do you have in mind for—”

“Nice skating, Spencer. Hey, have you met my friend Melanie?”

Well, I walked right into that one.

My cheeks felt unnaturally warm, as if I had been the one exerting myself on the ice instead of sitting on the sidelines with a cup of hot chocolate. Then again, it was hard to act cool when I had one of the most popular guys in the junior class sizing me up.

“Well, hello again, Pocahontas.”

I winced at the nickname. I’ve always found it annoying when people comment on the fact that my skin happens to be slightly darker than the average Oregonian—not much of a feat in a state where pale is the norm. Back in elementary school, I landed the role of Sacajawea while everyone else got to be part of Lewis and Clark’s expedition every single year.

“Hello, arrogant jock.”

Mackenzie kicked me under the table again as I smiled innocently.

“What? I thought we were giving each other cute nicknames based purely on first impressions.”

Spencer at least had the good sense to meet my eyes directly. “Okay, not my best opening line. Does it help if I admit that I had a thing for Pocahontas as a kid? I mean, that ‘Colors of the Wind’ stuff was hot.” His smile quirked up at the side and I began relaxing in spite of myself.

I shrugged. “Yeah, I’m still not thrilled with the comparison.”

“It’s the long brown hair,” Mackenzie pointed out.

“And your eyes.”

“And my skin tone. Not exactly a secret here, guys.”

“I think mainly it’s your eyes.” Spencer leaned closer, as if an intense examination was required to settle the matter. “They’re almost the same shade of dark chocolate as your drink.”

I blinked up at him. “Okay, I get it. You weren’t trying to be a jerk. Message received. You can tone down the flirting now.”

He laughed and glanced over at Mackenzie. “Does she give everyone such a hard time?”

Only when I’m not entirely clear what game someone wants to be playing with me. If I think it will prevent a mess in the making, I have no trouble speaking up. Probably because I can’t afford to clean up after anyone else—not without crumbling inside. That’s why I only truly relax around a handful of people who don’t push me too far.

Except that doesn’t apply to my feelings for Dylan.

“Um, actually she never has be—”

“Hey, Mack.” Logan Beckett interrupted her words with a quick kiss. Not that she appeared to mind, judging by the way her fingers gripped his hockey jersey. “Did you catch the show?”

“Nah, I hardly noticed you at all.” The foolish grin plastered all over her face gave her away. “Melanie and I were discussing the Boston Tea Party.”

He groaned. “No more history lectures, I beg of you.”

“Actually, I was thinking the four of us could get together to watch Pocahontas.”

Oh crap.

Logan glanced over at his best friend, whose face I now found impossible to read. “Um . . . I’m not so sure Spencer enjoys discussing historical accuracy, Mack.”

“He was just telling Melanie how much he loved that movie as a kid. Weren’t you, Spencer?”

“I—”

“Great! It’s settled. We’ll see the two of you at Logan’s house for movie night tomorrow. Say . . . six o’clock?” She was already pulling on her backpack and entwining her fingers with Logan’s. The two of them were so fricking adorable together it was almost nauseating. “See you then!”

And just like that they strolled out of the ice skating rink together.

Leaving me alone with a hockey player who had just been shanghaied into a movie date with me that I didn’t even want in the first place.

Because I was still stupidly hung up on someone else altogether.

I was so screwed.

“So, on a scale of one to ten, how uncomfortable are you right now?”

Spencer’s obvious amusement about the whole thing made me grin right back. I mentally began revising my estimation of him. At least he had a solid sense of humor . . . something we would both probably be needing with Mackenzie’s brain tuned to matchmaking mode.

I shrugged. “Mackenzie means well. I’m not sure about her judgment when it comes to, y’know . . .”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

He flopped into the seat that Mackenzie had recently vacated. “Fair enough. She has a terrible track record. I mean, that guy she’s dating? No good. I don’t trust him as far as I can slide him on the ice.”

I mentally replayed the way he had hauled Logan away from Patrick, and smiled at the joke. “Yeah, Logan’s just the worst.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years. I’m biding my time now. Waiting for my parents to buy me the captaincy.”

His parents could probably do it. Everyone knew that the new wing in the gym was courtesy of the King family fortune. I studied him carefully, searching for even a trace of truth behind his joking words. Spencer’s green eyes were bright, but I suspected that it had less to do with hockey and more to do with messing with my head.

“Would you really want to be team captain?”

“Nah, probably not. That would mean I’d have to give all the pep talks.” Spencer scoffed. “Show up early. All of that cr—garbage.”

I didn’t know what to make of his quick bit of verbal sanitation, whether it was his way of trying to impress me with his chivalry or if he considered it bad form to swear in front of an impressionable freshman girl. The sardonic edge underlying his every statement left me wondering if he ever meant anything he said, or if life was one big joke to him.

“Would all of that be such a bad thing?”

“It certainly would be for Patrick.” He glanced down at his phone. “Listen Poc—Melanie. It was fun meeting you, but I have places to go, people to see, and parties to crash.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you do.”

“So I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night.” Spencer stood and I knew that if I kept my mouth shut he would saunter out of the hockey rink as if he owned the place, which he sort of did. His parents had paid for its remodel after all.

“I don’t get it,” I blurted out, before he had taken more than two steps. “We have nothing in common. Why on earth would you want to hang out with me? If you really wanted to get out of this, you could convince Mackenzie to let it drop easily enough.”

His smile quirked up at the side. “That’s for me to know . . . and you to find out.”

“Seriously? You couldn’t come up with anything more original than that?”

“Nope, but I’ll do better next time.” Spencer winked. “Catch you later, Melanie.”

That was the last thing I needed. Especially if Spencer developed real feelings for me and I had to explain to Mackenzie why I was reluctant to give one of the hottest guys in the junior class any of my time.

Sorry, Mackenzie. I’d just rather date your little brother than your boyfriend’s best friend. That’s fine with you, right?

The only thing I found myself dreading more than trying to explain that to Mackenzie was introducing anyone to my dad. Not when he passes tipsy and moves on to getting thoroughly trashed before five o’clock every evening. Just because my dad wasn’t an angry drunk didn’t really change anything; I still hated watching him stare at the television for hours on end while he poisoned himself into an early grave.

I absolutely refused to let anyone else see him that way.

Which was why I waited until the next morning before school to corner Izzie for advice.

“So, hypothetically speaking, if someone tried to set you up on a date with Spencer King . . . how would you worm your way out of it?”

Izzie barely glanced up at me from the AP Statistics textbook she had propped open against a tree, giving herself an excellent view of her surroundings while remaining relatively invisible. Not that Isobel Peters ever needed help going unnoticed. “I would let my trusty dragon take care of the situation. Or ask a warlock friend to intervene. Those things are way more likely to happen than a date with Spencer King. At least for me. What’s going on, Mel?”

“Okay, so let’s say someone was trying to set me up on a date with Spencer King. Hypothetically.”

She shoved her glasses higher up her nose and stared at me in disbelief. “Nothing about this conversation seems hypothetical. Do we need to review the definition again?”

“Fine. It’s . . . well, honestly I’m blaming Mackenzie for this one.”

Izzie grinned and closed her textbook with a resounding whump. “Let me guess: Mackenzie wants to set you up with Spencer because he is Logan’s best friend and she feels guilty about interrupting their bromance time.”

She might not like being the center of attention, but that’s never stopped Izzie from paying attention to the intricacies of everyone else’s lives. That, combined with her analytical nature and her inability to lie with anything even remotely resembling a straight face, made her the world’s best confidant. I could trust Izzie to keep my secrets safe. I imagined it’d be similar to admitting my sins to a priest; what happens in the confessional, stays in the confessional.

Forgive me, Father. I’ve been having some thoughts about my best friend’s little brother that probably don’t meet up to your godly standards or whatever. . . .

Yeah, I didn’t think saying fifteen Hail Mary’s would really help in this particular situation. I’d also kept my embarrassing crush on Dylan to myself. And luckily, Izzie had never needed to know every particular to point me in the right direction, which was why I considered her undeniable talent for giving advice as one of Smith High School’s best kept secrets. Nobody would think to ask a girl who acted like she had a supercomputer chip wired into her brain for relationship pointers. Izzie might be good at understanding people, but she didn’t exactly come across as a people person.

“I think Mackenzie’s in the mood to play matchmaker, but I don’t think her relationship with Logan has anything to do with it.”

Izzie laughed outright. “If that was the case, don’t you think she would have noticed by now that you’re head over heels crazy about her little brother?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not—”

The three-minute warning bell cut me off and I watched in stunned silence while Izzie began methodically packing up her backpack.

“Sorry, was that supposed to be a secret? You mention him all the time, Mel.” Izzie pitched her voice higher, which sounded doubly absurd coming from her. “So I spent the night at Mackenzie’s house and Dylan told us the funniest story about his soccer practice. And then he challenged Mackenzie to a game of basketball, but when she pointed out that he had an unfair advantage, he said they would play on rollerblades!”

I felt my cheeks turning redder. “I don’t remember going into that much detail.”

But Izzie was into her act now, and I could tell by the sparkle in her eyes that she wasn’t going to let it drop.

“So they took Mackenzie’s rollerblades to a nearby court and both put one of them on and us. . .