Nothing is going to put out the light in me, either, Max thought. I'm never going to wake up and find myself out of love with Liz.
Maybe he should tell Liz he was wrong when he said they had to be just friends. Wasn't it insane to give up on a fire so blinding, so impossible to quench? How many times was he ever going to feel this way in his life?
Answer: one. One time. Because there wasn't another girl like Liz anywhere on this planet or any other.
And that's why they had to stay just friends. The closer Liz got to him, the more danger she was in. Max felt pretty sure Sheriff Valenti wanted all aliens on earth dead. And he had a feeling Valenti wouldn't mind offing any humans who happened to be in the way. Including Liz.
Just friends. Max was starting to hate those two words.
"Put me down for ten bucks on my girl Isabel," Tish called. She gave Isabel's shoulders a squeeze. "I know you can do it," she whispered.
"What are you talking about?" Isabel asked. She sat down on the wooden bench in front of her locker and slid on her clogs.
She had tuned out the conversation when Stacey started critiquing each of their jumping techniques. Isabel never bothered to listen to Stacey when she did her little after-practice lectures while everyone was changing.
But today she'd tuned out everybody, even Tish. She couldn't stop thinking about that weird dream she'd had last night. Plus that strange little conversation with DuPris at lunch.
"We're talking about the snag-Nikolas contest," Tish said. "The same thing we've been talking about for, like, the last fifteen minutes."
Stacey hopped up onto the bench next to her locker. "It sounds like Isabel is going to try to weasel out of this," she cried. "That means I win!"
"Isabel's not weaseling," Tish protested. "She just wants to know what we're talking about, you know, what counts as snagging, right, Isabel?"
"Right," Isabel answered. If there was a choice between agreeing with Tish or agreeing with Stacey, Isabel was always going to go with Tish, but she was still trying to figure out exactly what she wasn't weaseling out of.
"Lunch together in the quad," Julie suggested.
"No, tongue kissing in the quad," Lucinda countered.
"Holding hands in the quad," Tish said.
Isabel shook her head. Tish should become a diplomat or something. She was always coming up with compromises, trying to make everyone happy.
"Is holding hands okay with everyone?" Tish asked. Most of the girls nodded or grunted, and no one said no. "Okay, that's it, then. I'll hold everyone's money. We pretty much all eat lunch in the quad, so we'll be able to see who ends up holding hands with Nikolas first-Isabel or Stacey."
Fine, Isabel thought. I got it. To humiliate Stacey, all I have to do is hold hands with Nikolas Branson. No problem. Except for Alex. Alex ate lunch in the quad pretty much every day, too. Which meant he'd see the hand holding.
Isabel slammed her locker door shut. Hey, she and Alex danced once at homecoming. They went miniature golfing, and she kissed him. That's it. Well, besides hanging out sometimes with the whole group. She didn't owe him anything.
I can't believe I'm worried about Alex seeing me hold hands with another guy. I'm losing it, Isabel thought.
Isabel was always telling Tish that a little jolt of jealousy was good for keeping a guy's interest. She wasn't ready to be anybody's girlfriend, even Alex's. She wanted to be free to have fun-with whoever she pleased. But somehow it didn't feel right to play games like that with Alex. She just had a feeling he'd see right through her. He understood her. And he got to her in a way that other guys didn't.
Maybe the whole snag-Nikolas contest was a good thing. It would remind Alex and her that there was nothing serious going on between them.
Isabel added a little dark blue mascara to her lashes, which made her eyes look even bluer. She touched up her lipstick and dabbed on a little of the perfume Maria mixed up for her. She loved the combination of citrus and spice. She just wasn't the sweet flowery type.
"So are you going to look for him now?" Tish asked, keeping her voice low.
"That's right. Stacey's not going to have a chance," Isabel answered, loud enough for everyone to hear. She strolled out of the locker room and into the gym. She decided the bleachers would be a good place to wait for Nikolas to "run into" her.
The door to the guys' locker room swung open. Isabel took a quick peek. Just John Andrews and Richard Jamison. She gave them a little smile, just to sort of get the guy-attracting muscles warmed up. They veered toward her. Oops. She didn't mean to actually encourage them to come over.
Isabel flipped open her binder and locked her eyes on one of the pages. John and Richard hesitated, then continued out of the gym. Good boys, Isabel thought. She could have kept them around so that when Nikolas came out she had a little entourage around her. But some guys didn't like that. It intimidated them or something. Nikolas didn't especially look like a guy who was bothered by a little competition, but it didn't hurt to play it safe. She could always get a couple of the other football players to come over and flirt with her if Nikolas turned out to be the type who enjoyed beating out other guys.
The door to the girls' locker room opened, and Stacey bounced into the gym. Isabel waved to her, and Stacey's lips turned down in a tiny frown. She wasn't pleased that Isabel had staked out the bleachers. Poor baby.
Isabel couldn't stop a grin from stretching across her face as Stacey flounced out of the gym. A few seconds later Craig Cachopo and Doug Highsinger burst out of the guys' locker room. They did some loud mock fighting as they passed the bleachers. Isabel wondered how guys ever got it in their heads that this somehow impressed girls. As if she was going to look at one of them and think, Whoa, that boy does a pretty convincing fake choke hold. I want him.
A couple of Stacey-ettes practically skipped past her. Tish came out of the locker room a few seconds later. She just gave Isabel a little wave and kept on walking. She obviously didn't want to cramp Isabel's style. Then Tim Watanabe scurried past, head down. Isabel couldn't figure out how he could be so shy everyplace but on the football field. When he was out there, he was a total maniac. Maybe the coach should start giving him pep talks after games instead of before them.
Come on, Nikolas, I'm getting bored, Isabel thought. She started doing little fashion critiques on everyone who passed her just to amuse herself. But eventually people stopped coming out of the locker rooms. Where was Nikolas? Was he dressed and out of there before she got to her spot in the bleachers?
Isabel grabbed her backpack. Forget this. She would just reel in Nikolas the next time she saw him. It's not like she was at all worried about Stacey. Even if Stacey got to Nikolas first, Isabel would have no problem winning their little contest.
She climbed down from the bleachers and headed across the polished wooden floor. Before she reached the door, two strong hands slid around her waist and pulled her back against a rock-hard chest. She felt warm breath against her ear. Then she heard a low male voice. "Looking for me, Isabel?"
Isabel gasped. It was the voice from her dream. The same voice, the same words. The sound of it sent heat spiraling through her body. Her throat went dry.
Isabel slowly turned around-and saw Nikolas Branson staring down at her. I thought his eyes were brown, she thought, her mind spinning. But they aren't. They're golden. Like tiger eyes.
"Who are you?" she breathed.
He didn't answer. Isabel pushed herself away from him and half stumbled. Her legs actually felt trembly. Get a grip, she ordered herself.