Stealing Bradford

DJ didn’t have her normal level of energy during volleyball practice. She figured that was partly due to lack of food, just having played soccer during PE, and stress. Yes, she’d heard that stress could sap your energy. And her day, while not a complete disaster, had been fairly stressful. It didn’t help matters that the coach was Ms. Jones, the same teacher who some girls still thought was gay. Although DJ was trying to block out the crude comments she’d heard last year.

“You were really good out there, DJ,” said a stocky girl named Tawnee. Practice was over and they were picking up the balls and pitching them into the carts now.

“Thanks,” said DJ. “But this wasn’t my best game.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” said a tall lanky girl named Crystal. She shot a ball into the cart then peered curiously at DJ. “Have you played a lot?”

“I haven’t played on a team since I was a sophomore,” DJ admitted. “I’m probably rusty. I’m sure I need to work on some things.”

“You don’t really seem like the athletic type,” said Crystal as they went back to the locker room. “I guess I didn’t expect much from you.”

“Yeah,” said Tawnee. “I thought I saw you hanging with those snooty rich girls today. I never would’ve guessed you did sports.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” DJ studied Tawnee and Crystal now, and she wasn’t sure if she was seeing people through different eyes these days, or perhaps she just hadn’t really been paying attention before. But their looks suggested that 1) they had even less fashion sense than she did, 2) they needed to do something about their hairstyles—both were pretty bad—and 3) they probably weren’t into guys.

“So are you going to stick around all week?” asked Crystal. “Until tryouts?”

“Sure,” said DJ as she grabbed her gym bag and put her clothes and shoes that she’d worn to school inside. “Why not?”

Crystal shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I actually like playing sports,” said DJ.

“Aren’t you going to shower?” asked Tawnee.

“I’ll do that when I get home,” said DJ.

“Why?” asked Crystal suspiciously.

“Because I want to,” said DJ. “I’m in a hurry, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

The truth was that DJ didn’t want to put on her other clothes because she was walking home, and those Michael Kors shoes had been uncomfortable when she’d taken them off before PE. No way was she going to traipse seven blocks in them now. “See ya,” she called as she hurried out of the locker room.

Of course, once she was exiting the gym, she felt uncomfortable. What if someone saw her looking like this? But fortunately, the school grounds were pretty much evacuated by now. Still, as she hurried along, hoping not to be seen, it bothered her that she was worried about this. That never would’ve been the case before the influence of the other Carter House girls. Before, DJ didn’t give a rip. She paused on the sidewalk, switching the strap of her gym bag to the other shoulder.

“Hey, DJ,” called a guy’s voice from behind her.

She cringed and then turned to look. Of course, it would be Conner! What timing. She considered making a run for it, but then figured why not just get it, whatever it was, over with.

“Wait up,” he called as he jogged over. He had a CCH duffle bag over his shoulder too. Probably just finished with soccer. But, unlike her, he looked freshly showered and neatly dressed in his regular clothes. “I thought that was you.”

“How could you tell?” she asked in an edgy tone.

“Your walk.”

“Oh.” She started walking again.

“You going home?” He continued alongside her.

“Yeah.”

“No ride?”

“Nope.”

“Me either. Harry left soccer early. I think he was meeting Eliza for coffee.”

“Good for him.”

Conner put his hand on her arm now, stopping her from walking. “Look, DJ, I want to talk to you, but you’re making it a little difficult.”

She turned and gave him her best incredulous expression. “I’m making it difficult?”

“Yeah…this isn’t easy, you know.”

“What isn’t easy?”

“Saying I’m sorry.”

She studied him closely. “Is that what you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to…”

“Well?” She let out an exasperated sigh.

“What? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg your forgiveness?”

She considered this. “Maybe.” Of course, even as she said this, she wondered what she needed to forgive him for exactly. Oh, yeah, Taylor.

“Look, DJ, I’m sorry that I’ve been acting like such a jerk… I mean since we went out the other night.”

She nodded. “Yeah, you have pretty much been a jerk.”

“Right, that’s what I said.”

“Right.”

Now he just stood there, saying nothing, and looking even more uncomfortable than she felt.

“So, is that it?” she demanded.

“Well…”

“Fine.” She started walking again, quickly. She felt confused and frustrated, but she wasn’t about to stand there dredging the words out of him.

He hurried to catch up with her. “No, that’s not all.”

“Okay?”

“I wanted to explain some things,” he began.

“No one is stopping you,” she said.

“Well, for starters…I never meant for things to get so carried away that night when we went out with Harry and Eliza.”

“Neither did I,” she said firmly.