Rhapsody

Chapter 3: Savvy

The kick-off junior-senior party is going to be a literal blast. And not only because it is supposed to be a pool party, with a barbeque and a water-balloon fight, but because Park is going to be there. Park Gable doesn't go to Cloudsdale High in South Dakota, but he's so well known that he was invited along with both classes.

I and my best friend Raqi Hernandez had spent hours getting ready, trying to decide what to wear, how to do our makeup, and what time to leave. After all, the house we were going to was on our road, so we shouldn't have left so early. Especially when we found that the only people there were George, whose house it was, and...Park.

Park Gable.

I tried not to turn around when I heard George call his name.

Really, I did.

But, there I was, glancing over to sneak a look at him—

And...tried to hide my frown.

He was dressed in khaki bermuda shorts and a blue sweatshirt; and, sure, Park looks great in everything, but it was his smile that made me frown.

The way his eyes crinkled and his eyebrows lifted—which would usually make any girl trip over her feet—was uncommonly strained. The way his lips, which were curling in a plastic smile, were turning white from being drawn into such a thin line.

He wanders over to me after a minute of talking with George

I turn to him, giving him a small smile. "What's up?" I ask, and my breath catches—every time my breath catches; at him.

Him.

"Nothing," he replies spontaneously, not looking at me. He pulls up the hood of his hoodie, lowering his head so that his dark brown hair falls into his eyes. I would have started to feel rejected if it hadn't been for the way that he inched closer to me, even if he was giving strong anti-social vibes.

"Are you good?" I ask, turning to him when Raqi leaves to get something from her car.

He sighs, and I can tell that he's hesitating. "Yeah."

I press my lips together, adjusting my black fanny pack to hang against my back...anything to keep my hands moving.

I desperately try to find something to say, my lips only forming words that sound sappy. Finally I tell him, "It was a rhetorical question."

It is worth the awkwardness when his lips quirk, almost in a smile. But he doesn't say anything; we stand together, yet apart, watching people put food out and blow up floats for the pool.

After a while Park says, "Is Jason around?"

I look at him, surprised when his blue-gray eyes unexpectedly meet my green ones.

I press my lips together. "Not yet..."

He nods, then goes back to staring at nothing.

I pull my shirt away from my shoulders, trying to get some air flow. "Ugh, it's so hot out here."

I almost miss the way his eyes swoop over my shorts and tangerine-colored tank top under a loose, almost see-through white flannel, which hangs unbuttoned. My feet are in sandals.

"Yeah...it really is," he says.

My cheeks warm at his gaze. I'm saved from forming a response when a girl skips over to us. She's...pretty, although her makeup and false eyelashes are really extreme. She has warm brown skin and long cornrows dyed a red-ish pink at the tips. I choke down a laugh when I see Park's face change—a little surprised, and a little weirded out.

"Hey, there," the girl says, her voice high and loud. "I just thought I'd come say hi, since no one else is here yet..." She flutters her eyelashes. She couldn't have been more than 14, though she looks tall for her age. She turns to Park, and I instantly tense, knowing some sappy comment is about to spew forth. Like every other girl. I'm not surprised when she breathes, "You're Park Gable, right, the guy everyone has been telling me about?"

"Uh, yeah." Park tilts his head toward me. "This is my...girlfriend, Savanna. You are?"

My heart skitters at his words. Those are two titles that Park never calls me.

Savanna. Girlfriend.

I zone out, barely hearing the girl introduce herself as Rachel: Rachel Blaine.

The girl's voice—Rachel's voice—sounds a lot less chipper when she looks at me—snapping me back to reality—and gives me a simple, "Hey."

I give her a little wave. "I don't think we've met before. Did you just move here?"

She nods. "From kentucky. I have a brother, he's going into his senior year...I'm just a freshman, of course."

I try to ignore the fact that, as a freshman, she isn't allowed at this party. "Oh, okay...cool," I say, feeling awkward.

She twirls a braid in two of her long, slender fingers. Her nails are hot pink and long, long, long. "I was wondering...do you play volleyball, by any chance? I'm joining the team and I wanted to get to know some of the players."

I smile, barely stopping myself from telling her that nail extensions aren't allowed for athletes. "I do, in fact. I guess you'll be in the girl's U16?"

She bites her glossed lips. "I guess so. Well, at least I know someone on the team."

Park grins at the girl, though to me it looks strained. "Savvy's really good, she's bound to be captain next year."

I glance at him, and he catches the look, flashing me a grin in return. I wasn't fishing for a compliment. But he gave me one anyway.

I wasn't sure what it meant.

All I knew was that Park was acting...weird.