Stealing for Keeps (Frost Lake High Book 1)
Stealing for Keeps: Chapter 17

“What in the hell did you do to her?” Rowan asks as we’re standing at our lockers at the end of the day on Tuesday. It’s been another day of Claire avoiding me at all costs. We’re talking all costs. She just ignored Rowan too, all because he happened to be next to me.

Lacey offers an apologetic shrug when I shoot her a questioning gaze.

Yesterday, I knew something was up but thought maybe Claire was just having a rough day, but this morning, I pulled into the parking lot at the same time as her, and she proceeded to stay in her car, pretending to be really into fixing her makeup, until I went in without her. She skipped lunch in the cafeteria again, and in art class, she did her best to pretend like I don’t exist.

I should be grateful she’s leaving me alone. I spent the weekend half-afraid her mom was going to make good on her threats. I don’t know what my parents or Vaughn would do if they found out I was with a drunk and mostly naked Claire Friday night, but I’d rather not replace out.

We play Stoutland next week, and that should be my only focus. It has to be. I can’t bear the thought of screwing everything up after my family literally moved across the country for this opportunity.

“Nothing,” I say. I didn’t tell anyone what happened when I dropped her off. But maybe she did. “Have you talked to her?”

“No.” He squints. “I’ve not seen her at all. That’s weird, right? You definitely did something, and you need to fix it.” I start to protest that I didn’t do anything, but Rowan holds up both hands. “I don’t want to know. Just fix it. If Vaughn gets word that Claire is upset with you, he’ll ice you out again, and we need you in the starting lineup next week.”

With a pointed stare, he walks away.

I blow out a breath as I lean my back against the lockers. Fix what? I don’t even know why she’s avoiding me. I need intel.

I get changed for practice quickly and then head to the far field where the cheerleaders are practicing.

Lacey straightens out of a stretch when she sees me approaching.

“Hey,” I say, stopping a safe distance away, so I’m not in her squad’s way while they warm up. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” she says, moving to me in quick, short strides. “What’s up, New Guy?”

One side of my mouth quirks up, but then I remember why I’m here. “What’s up with Claire?”

“What do you mean?” she asks in a tone that tells me she knows exactly what I’m asking.

“Come on, Lacey. She’s avoiding me: ducking into bathrooms, turning and going the other way when she sees me. She even bailed on our group project last night.”

“She ducked into a bathroom?” Lacey asks, brows rising.

“Yeah. She really had to go apparently.”

A small snort escapes, and she drops her hands to her sides. “Just when I think the girl is too mature for high school dramatics, she goes and gets herself into a situation with her ex-boyfriend’s teammate and turns into one of us.”

“I don’t follow,” I say, trying to repeat whatever she just said in my head to make sense of it.

“She’s embarrassed, genius,” she says dryly. “She got drunk, took off her clothes, and threw herself at you, and then her mom tossed you out.”

Hearing it all laid out like that makes me wince. She didn’t throw herself at me. I mean, maybe, but I was ready to catch her. Is that really what this is about? She’s embarrassed? I don’t know why.

“That’s it?”

“Claire isn’t used to putting herself out there.”

“She was drunk.”

“Yes, but she’s gotten drunk in front of me before and never taken her clothes off.”

“It was no big deal.” Except it’s burned into my brain for eternity. But she shouldn’t be embarrassed. She had to feel the chemistry between us that night. We were so close to crossing a line, and I was all in.

“I’ve told her that, but she’s freaking out.”

“What do I do?”

“I don’t know, but you better figure it out, New Guy. Be charming or whatever. I’m really tired of eating lunch in the art room.”

* * *

The next day, I don’t even bother looking for Claire during the day or trying to talk to her in class. I wait until art is over and “accidentally” leave my sketchbook behind.

Like I knew she would, Claire texts later to let me know she grabbed it for me.

Me: Thank you. Any chance you can bring it by my house tonight? I really need it.

Claire: Sure. 6 okay?

At six o’clock on the dot, I’m waiting at the front door when she knocks. I pull it open fast, before she has a chance to change her mind.

“Hey.” My gaze drops down to my sketchbook in her hand. “Thanks for coming.”

I open the door wider.

“I can’t stay. I just wanted to make sure you had this.”

“Did you look inside?”

“No.”

She definitely did. Her cheeks are turning pink. I drew a picture of Claire in her dress from the dance. She looked so good that night, and I just want her to know that’s the image I remember most from that night.

“Come on, Claire. You can’t avoid me forever.”

She says nothing, but she looks like she’s two seconds from fleeing.

“Would it help if I took off my clothes?”

“Oh my god.” She buries her face in her hands.

“Because I’m happy to even the score.” My hands go to the button of my jeans. “You have to promise not to laugh at my Bugs Bunny boxers though. Wyatt bought them for me for my birthday last year.”

She’s still hiding her face and muttering.

“It’s not a big deal.” I pry her hands away so I can look her in the eye. “You were drunk and beautiful and…we’ll never speak of it again,” I quickly add when it’s clear talking about it is making things worse.

“Promise?” she asks quietly.

“Sure. If that’s what you want.”

“I want.” Her voice is still wavering just above a whisper.

“All right then. How about those Cardinals?”

The light in her eyes sparks, but her smile is slow to turn up.

“They’re a football team in Arizona. Terrible. Always losing.”

“Claire!” Wyatt yells from behind me.

Her gaze goes over my shoulder, and I open up my stance as he barrels by me and comes to a screeching halt, inches from ramming into her legs.

“Hey,” she says. I try not to be too offended that her tone just shifted from tortured to ecstatic for my little brother.

“Wanna see Flash?” he asks her.

She looks to me hesitantly as if I’m going to tell her no.

“Come on.” He rushes off, giving her little chance but to follow.

In his room, he leans against his dresser in front of Flash’s tank.

“He looks very happy,” she says and rests a finger on the glass. Flash swims by excitedly.

In true Wyatt form, he bounces on to the next thing quickly. He takes a seat on the floor in front of his latest Lego creation.

“Wow. Did you build that?” She looks impressed by him, and I feel a little jealous of my eight-year-old brother.

“I just finished,” he says proudly.

“You built all these?” Her gaze scans the room. He has Lego sets on nearly every surface.

“Uh-huh,” he says, not looking up. “Watch what it does.”

I hang in the doorway as Claire goes to sit in front of him on the floor. She sits patiently and eagerly listens as he shows her all the cool things it does. She’s more interested in his Legos than she’s been in me all week.

“I am seriously impressed,” she says. “I had no idea you were holding out on me. I love Legos. I used to have this three-thousand-piece Harry Potter set. It took me weeks to put it together.”

“That’s cool. My mom won’t buy me any that are more than five hundred pieces, because she says I’m too little.” He looks properly put out by that, then busies himself with moving his new Lego set onto an empty space on his bookshelf.

“Very important question,” I say as I walk into the room. “Gryfreplaceor or Slytherin?”

She scoffs. “Hufflepuff.”

“Oh no. I’m a classic Gryfreplaceor. I knew this friendship was doomed.”

The shyness in her smile is back, but she stands and doesn’t immediately jolt out the door, so I’d say we’ve made some progress.

“I should get home.”

“Are you sure you can’t stay? Mom ordered pizza, and then we can work on our art project.” I also just really don’t want her to go.

“I need to study for a chem quiz.”

“Are you sure you’re not just fleeing again? You’re pretty fast with that boot. Guinness record level in fact. The way you sprinted away from me all week was impressive.”

Her face flushes slightly, and she bites on the corner of her lip. “I’m sorry. I was embarrassed. Am embarrassed. I was a mess the other night.”

“You were fine.” Better than fine. Perfect, though something tells me she wouldn’t believe me if I said it.

“My mom yelled at you.”

“Not the first time a mom has chased me out of her daughter’s bedroom.” I chuckle. “Kidding. First and hopefully last.” Although I’d be willing to chance it with her.

“Anyway. I’m sorry about all of it.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Well, except maybe for avoiding me. School is a real bummer without you keeping me company.”

“I’m sure you managed.” There’s a challenge in her tone, and I’m a little bit happy that she sounds jealous thinking I might have been talking to other girls.

“Stay.”

She drops her stare to the floor. “I can’t.”

I lean closer. “Did I mention I’m wearing Bugs Bunny boxers?”

She laughs softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” She finally looks up at me and smiles in a way that makes my chest tighten. I am in so much trouble with this girl.