Being Whitney (Book one of the Being Series): A Young Adult Novel Page 8

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  Entering the dance, Whitney immediately regretted her decision. Awkward teenagers in ugly dresses, wrinkled skirts and heels they couldn’t walk in filled the hot, sticky, and smelly gym. Jesse and James talked about the University of Oregon football game, a topic Whitney had little interest in while she attempted to talk to Brynley with little luck. She checked the clock again, how had it only been three minutes since she last checked?

  Flying across the floor, arms flailing uncontrollably, with Ivy on her heels, Everley shouted above the music, “HEY!” Everley grabbed Whitney, Ivy grabbed Brynley and without a word the four of them were on the dance floor. Everley and Ivy were out of control. Anyone who didn’t know them would have assumed Everley had consumed a large amount of alcohol before entering the dance, but Whitney was starting to get used to their unbridled enthusiasm, and currently it was actually refreshing and fun. Everley wiggled her way into the mob of students dancing in front, pulling the other girls with her. Ivy was a real dancer, she’d taken classes since she was five, so she moved with rhythm and grace. Everley, on the other hand, was just wild. One minute she’d be dancing with the girls and the next she’d be grinding on someone she’d never met. Whitney was thankful that if nothing else, the entertainment value was high. A few songs under their belt, they headed out to the courtyard to get some air. After downing her second cup of water, Everley jumped up and headed back inside, Ivy and Brynley on her tail.

  “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, then I’ll meet you in there,” Whitney lied.

  Once they were gone, Whitney took a seat on a bench in the far corner and watched the people coming and going. They gathered in clusters around the courtyard talking about who was wearing what, who was dancing with whom and how awful the dj was. Most of them remained strangers to her with only their Millersburg nuances seeming slightly familiar, making them that much more interesting.

  “Are you lost?”

  The question startled her.

  “What?” She turned to find Leif, looking perfect in his dark grey suite, standing just feet from her. Instantly self-conscious, she tugged on her dress and ran her hands through her hair, questioning every appearance decision she’d made. Her dance dress was possibly the most unlike her of the three she’d purchased for the week. Black, short and tight, it came down in a V in both the front and back. Her mom called it a “show-stopper” and it seemed to have that effect, yet now she wasn’t sure she wanted it.

  “The dance is in there,” Leif said pointing towards the door. He was cool and casual, the exact opposite of Whitney.

  “Yeah, I know,” she said.

  She straightened up as Leif sat down next to her, sending her heart rate through the roof.

  “Was this seat taken?” he asked.

  “No. Yeah, you can sit,” she said. Whitney scanned the courtyard in search of who might be seeing this. Surely Eva would waltz in and pounce at any minute. With the worry making laps in her head, she fought to act cool regardless of how close he was sitting and how much skin she was showing.

  “Here, take my jacket. You’re freezing.” And before she could protest he’d placed his jacket over her shoulders. She soaked up his scent without meaning to.

  “Thanks,” she said, still scanning.

  “How come you’re not dancing?” she asked. She knew she was failing miserably at appearing normal.

  “Eh, dancing isn’t my thing. My mom tried when I was little. She put me in tap class, but I could never find the rhythm. At my first, and last, recital there were like eight little girls, tapping right to the music and I was over in the corner randomly tapping away. I ruined the whole dance. Thankfully my mom gave up.”

  Whitney laughed at the thought. An adorable, no doubt, baby Leif tapping to his own beat while everyone else tried to be perfect.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “Not much of a dancer either,” she said. “It’s rather invasive of my personal bubble.”

  Suddenly he scooted right next to Whitney. “Is this invasive of your personal bubble?” he asked. His leg rested against the bare skin of hers and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

  “Um, kinda,” she finally squeaked out and he scooted back to his original spot, acting hurt by the comment.

  “Out of the bubble.” Threw his hands in the air.

  “It’s okay. I mean some people can be in my bubble. Just not all those weird, sweaty people.” Whitney kicked herself for making Leif move.

  “I saw some pictures from last night,” he said. “You again stole the show.” He smiled at her and his eyes sparkled a brilliant light blue. Whitney felt her cheeks turn red before he could finish his sentence.

  “Thanks, but I think that was Jasmine.”

  “Nah,” he said. “And I’m not just saying that cause she’s my sister. You were way prettier. Her dress was predictable, yours was anything but, as it is again tonight. I will admit, I didn’t see this coming.”

  Whitney stared at Leif in disbelief. His eyes were honest, not sarcastic, making the statement even more overwhelming.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  Abruptly Ivy and Everley emerged from the gym and were in front of the bench in half a millisecond.

  “Hey,” said Ivy to neither of them in particular.

  “Hey,” said Leif.

  “Whitney, you should come dance,” Ivy said as more of an order than a suggestion.

  “You aren’t the boss of her,” Leif said. Whitney tried to fight back a grin.

  “What are you doing here?” Ivy asked.

  “Talking to my friend Whitney,” he said.

  “She isn’t your friend. She’s my friend and if Eva sees you she will be my dead friend,” Ivy said.

  Whitney cowered a little. She felt stupid for letting herself get swept up by him. Again.

  Leif stood up, forcing Ivy to take a step back.

  “Why don’t you let me deal with Eva,” Leif said.

  “I’d love to, but you don’t. You just let her do whatever in the hell she wants, including you and half the UofO.”

  With the mention of Eva Whitney’s heart dropped and she began internally beating herself up for thinking Leif was her friend, that he would ever be her friend. She wanted to leave, but she still had his jacket and handing it back right now seemed slightly dangerous.

  “Ivy, you have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re an idiot,” Leif said. He turned around and faced Whitney. “Sorry, my sister is so stupid. I’ll see you on Monday.” And with that he stepped through Ivy and Everley, pushing them both slightly aside, and headed towards the dance.

  “Leif!” Everley yelled after him, ripping his jacket from Whitney’s shoulders. He stopped and turned. “It’ll be tough explaining why Whitney has your sweatshirt AND your jacket,” she said pushing it against his chest. He took it and turned back around without a word.

  As Leif headed in the doors, Brynley, James and Jesse headed out them. Ivy turned to Whitney.

  “Jesse loves you. And Eva WILL kill you. So you should figure out what you’re doing.”

  She said it quickly and then was gone. Whitney stared at the back of Ivy’s head trying to process what had just happened. Before she could succeed Jesse was by her side.

  “You disappeared,” he said.

  “Sorry. It was hot in there,” she said. She honestly felt bad. She didn’t want to lead him on. She wasn’t trying to lead him on.

  He just nodded and they followed the crew back inside.

  Whitney spent the rest of the dance standing to the side with Jesse. The loud music saved them from feeling the need to force a conversation. Whitney did concede, for the last song and allowed him one slow dance. Whitney wrapped her arms around Jesse’s neck as she felt his encircle her waist and at once she again felt the easiness of being with Jesse. She soaked in the safety as they moved in slow circles.

  Over Jesse’s shoulder she spotted Leif and Eva, with absolutely no distanc
e between them. Eva was happily resting her head on Leif’s shoulder and his hands were sneaking out of the friend zone. Whitney hadn’t noticed Eva’s dress before, it was SHORT. She watched them dance trying to ignore the sick feeling it gave her. Leif’s eyes looked sad again while Eva seemed perfectly content. She wondered what she meant to Leif, quickly shaking off the idiotic thought she meant anything at all.

  “Did you see Eva’s dress?” she asked Jesse.

  “You mean the half of Eva’s dress that she wore? Yeah, I did.” And he smiled at Whitney. She loved bantering with Jesse. He understood her and she liked that. She felt like no one else here did.

  “Do you like him?” Jesse asked. The question stopped Whitney’s heart.

  “Who?”

  “Leif.”

  “No,” Whitney said. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye trying to see if he believed her. She wanted him to, but she also wanted to believe it herself.

  Jesse didn’t say anything back. She didn’t know if that was better or worse. All she knew was that guys were complicated. Then she saw Brynley dancing with James towards the front and remembered girls were complicated too. This whole town was complicated. And it was only fall.

  WINTER

  Chapter 6

  Basketball practice started on the third Monday in November. There were two weeks left in the trimester, the leaves were nearly gone from the trees and the chilly weather was beginning to be just simply cold. Her pool had long since been “put away” for the winter, and she missed it. The only positive of the day was basketball, and to Whitney that was a HUGE positive.

  Whitney’s dad took her to her first basketball camp when she was six. Her friends all headed to gymnastics or dance camp, but Whitney wanted to play basketball. She’d watched every game of the season cuddled up on the couch with her dad. When the games went south he’d give her his Golden State hat to wear and they always seemed to pull out the win. So she’d begged and finally her mom had given in. Her dad was nearly as excited as she was.

  She’d been awful at camp. Couldn’t dribble, didn’t make a basket and fouled out every game she played. Yet she’d loved it. She’d left camp with her very own ball and demanded a hoop be put up outside so she could practice. Her dad caved (as he always did) and immediately had a portion of the lawn ripped up and turned into a half-court. Whitney lived on that court from that day, until the day she moved.

  By the time she hit middle school she was playing year-round. School ball in the winter, club ball in the spring, camps all summer long. She loved it, and she actually became good. She felt like a million dollars when she stepped on a court, and her dad treated her like it too. She loved the way he looked at her after a good game, so different than the way he’d looked at her after her homecoming loss. Nothing else made her feel as good as that look.

  Whitney walked into the main gym for tryouts with Everley and Brynley by her side. She’d heard they were the two best freshman and they’d both expressed their expectation to at least swing, if not be completely on varsity this year. Coming from a much larger school, Whitney had never dreamed of making varsity her freshman year, it just didn’t happen there.

  “Does that happen a lot?” she’d asked as they discussed their chances at lunch.

  “Sometimes. It depends on how deep the team is already and, obviously, how good the freshman are,” Brynley said. Things had warmed up with Brynley after homecoming week. People quickly forgot about Whitney and returned their attention to Brynley and just as quickly Brynley started talking to Whitney again.

  “They only have three seniors this year so they need players. It’ll just depend on if we’re better than the sophomores,” added Everley.

  “We are,” Brynley had said. And they’d left it at that.

  Tryouts lasted four days. Whitney excelled in the drills and shooting, yet the plays were all new and it was obvious even the freshman had been running them all the previous year. She hit her court at home every night and ran them over and over again until her mom made her quit. The practice helped Whitney immensely and by the fourth day she owned the court. In their scrimmage game she scored twelve points with Eva guarding her and the third time she stole the ball from Eva’s team Eva threw a genuine fit.

  “She’s fouling! Every time! Why am I the only one seeing this? She just throws her big self around and we all let her cause she’s the new girl? She’d be fouled out of a real game by now,” Eva said. She seemed to be addressing both the coaches and the other players, although neither of those groups seemed to be on the same page as her.

  “Whitney, take a seat for a few,” Coach Turner said. “Everley, you’re in.”

  Whitney sat and watched the girls play. Eva was okay, she had a good outside shot, but she wasn’t as aggressive as she needed to be, thus why Whitney could push her around so easily. Whitney had told herself that maybe playing with Eva would give her a new view of her. Maybe after working together on the court she’d see the good things about Eva, but she was beginning to lose all hope in that. Eva’s sour attitude only amplified on the court and even though Whitney hadn’t been alone with Leif again since their five minute conversation at the homecoming dance (which she didn’t even think Eva knew about), Eva still seemed to hate Whitney for something.

  On Friday morning the teams were posted on the locker room door. Brynley arrived at school early to check them out and text Whitney a picture.

  Varsity

  Eva Chapman

  Jasmine Smyth

  Beth Guzman

  Ally White

  Kathy Jones

  Olivia Collins

  Kristi Campbell

  Jenn Parks

  Brynley Lousett

  Whitney Volsum

  Jayme Long*

  Everley Wheling*

  * indicates a swing player

  Whitney threw her hands in the air and did a little dance in her seat.

  “You okay?” Mable asked.

  “Made varsity!” Whitney said.

  “AHHHHH!” yelled Mable causing the whole bus to turn around and the driver to give them a warning. They slumped down in their seats and celebrated together silently.

  Whitney rushed to Mr. George’s room to find Brynley as soon as she could get off the bus.

  “YAY!” She said. Brynley stood up and gave her a hug.

  “I’m so excited!” Bryn said.

  “Me tooo!” Whitney said. “Did you talk to Everley? Is she upset?”

  Brynley shrugged her shoulders. “I text her when I text you and she said back with ‘YAY.’ So I guess she’s good.”

  “I’m so excited you’re on the team with me,” Whitney said. “I would be so scared without you.”

  “Yeah, cause Eva would probably kill you in an away locker room and leave your body there to be found by janitors the next morning,” Brynley said.

  “I could see that.” James added from behind them.

  “Fan club right?” Whitney asked Will, Jesse and James. “We expect you at every game with big signs.”

  The assurance of Whitney’s status as a top basketball player gave her confidence she’d been missing since she arrived in Millersburg.

  “Are you even going to play?” Will asked “I don’t want to be the loser with a sign for the benchwarmer.”

  “Oh, you just wait,” Brynley said as she shot him one of her signature looks.

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  Practice, finals, Thanksgiving at home with just her mom and Mable so she didn’t miss practice, new classes, practice, homework, repeat. Whitney swapped drama for yearbook and history for Spanish, but kept math, biology and language arts when the trimesters changed. She’d been excited about the switch from drama, and the escape from Eva, until she’d arrived in yearbook the first day to find out Eva was the yearbook editor.

  “We have to drop this class,” she whispered to Ivy who sat in front of her.

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get into this class as a freshman?” Ivy said. �
��We are not dropping it.”

  Whitney glanced at the rest of the class. Leif, Chris, Beth from her basketball team, Jasmine AND Eva. The worst lineup possible. Luckily after the first day the upperclassmen were released to work on design stuff while the underclassman spent the weeks before winter break learning basics. Everyone else complained about having to do the boring work, but Whitney was just excited to be free of Eva for an extra hour every day.

  As winter took over full force and basketball picked up so did Whitney’s dad’s revolving check-ins, lectures and coaching she’d hoped the distance would save her from. Her basketball schedule meant she only got to spend four days in San Francisco for winter break, but they ended up being more than enough. It was weird being back at “home.” Her room was as she’d left it, just with new versions of her old furniture. A few pieces of clothes remained here and there, things she hadn’t cared enough to take and thus now were the only pieces she owned that only held memories of California. She climbed into the window seat and looked out over their front yard and East Willow Avenue. This had all been so comfortable a few short months ago and now it seemed like a whole different life or the life of a whole different person, or both. She watched the lawn crew rake the leaves from the perfectly manicured yard as an empty hole grew in her chest. She missed who she’d been in this place and somehow she knew she’d never get her back. The thought weighed on her immensely as she tried to figure out who she was supposed to be now.

  Three of the four days at her dad’s were spent playing in a tournament with her old travel team, which would have been fun had her dad not spent the whole two hour drive home chastising her for not being in-sync with her team and looking rusty. She fought back the tears and longed for home, shocked that the feeling now meant tiny Millersburg. And Jesse.

  I actually miss home. She text him while her dad rambled on.