Shut Out

Chapter eight

I was really excited for my date with Randy that Friday night, until I opened the front door and got a good look at his face.

"Oh, God. Randy, what happened?" I asked, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the sink while I opened the medicine cabinet and located my extensively stocked first-aid kit.

"I'm fine, really," he said, putting a hand to the thin cut running along his left cheekbone. "Kyle threw a rock at me in the parking lot after practice. I think he meant to hit the back of my head, but I turned around and — "

"Kyle, the soccer goalie?"

Randy nodded as I cleaned a little dried blood off his cheek with a washrag. "Asshole," he hissed. "I planned to come over here right after I showered and changed. I didn't get blood on my shirt, did I?"

"I don't think so. It's not a deep cut. Here, this might sting a bit." I dabbed peroxide along his cheekbone with a cotton ball.

"Well, at least it makes me look all rugged and sexy," he said with a grin when I'd finished cleaning up the little cut.

"Yeah," I said, pressing a Spider-Man Band-Aid onto his cheek. "Real sexy."

He laughed, but I didn't. Randy was hurt. Not severely, but he'd spilled blood because of this stupid, ridiculous feud. How many more boys would suffer because of this rivalry?

None, I decided. Because the strike started tonight. Officially.

"Ready to go?" Randy asked, squeezing my hand as he slid off the sink. "The movie starts in half an hour, and we still have to drive out to Oak Hill. I figured we'd eat dinner afterward."

"Sure. Let's go," I said once I'd put away the first-aid kit. I was already impressed. He'd actually taken the time to plan out the date and everything.

He smiled and put an arm around my shoulders, leading me toward the front door. "I'm surprising you, by the way. You're going to love the restaurant."

I flinched. "You know I hate surprises."

"Trust me. You'll love this one," he said, opening the car door for me. "I hate to brag, but I did awesome tonight."

To tell you the truth, he really had done a great job. Instead of taking me to see some gory action movie, like I'd expected, he actually picked a romantic comedy. Granted, the movie as a whole kind of sucked, but the fact that he'd tried that hard really said something.

To top it off, he even took me to Giovanni's, an expensive

little Italian restaurant a few blocks from the theater. Despite his insistence on surprising me (surprises always made me uneasy), it was the nicest date Randy had taken me on since we'd started dating last year.

And not a soccer player in sight to ruin the evening.

After dinner, Randy took me back to his house, just like he'd planned. It was only ten thirty and I didn't have to be home until midnight, so we had plenty of time to do whatever we wanted.

Of course, I knew what Randy wanted to do.

We walked up to his room and just sat on his bed for a while, talking about how bad the movie had been.

"But the actress — she was pretty hot," he said. "That shower sex scene was… wow."

I rolled my eyes. Tonight, after such a great date, I was totally loosened up. "She had a butt double. You know, where someone stands in as the actress's butt? It wasn't even edited well."

Randy grinned at me. "Jealous?"

"Of her butt double? No."

He leaned forward, putting his hands flat on the bed, one on either side of my waist. "You're really hot when you're jealous," he told me. "But there's no need to be. Because, to tell you the truth, you know what I was thinking during that scene?"

"Do I want to know?" I asked.

"I was thinking about how much I wanted to reenact that part in the shower with my hot" — he kissed my cheek — "sexy" — he kissed my neck — "gorgeous girlfriend." He kissed my lips gently at first, then pulled away just a little. "And how she wouldn't need a butt double because she's perfect already."

"You smooth talker, you."

"I was also thinking how much sexier I am than that guy she was screwing in the shower."

I laughed.

"I am, aren't I?"

Instead of answering — because, to be honest, the actor in the movie was pretty fine — I closed the gap between us and kissed Randy again. We sat there on his bed making out for a while, but after a few minutes I felt Randy's hand on the small of my back as he tried to ease me backward.

I pulled away, putting a hand on his chest. "No — I mean, not tonight."

For a second I felt guilty, as Randy's hands dropped away from me and he turned to stare in the other direction. We'd really had a wonderful night, and I hated to ruin it by upsetting him.

But I'd taken an oath, and it would be worth it in the end. The rivalry would be over soon, and Randy and I could have many more perfect dates just like this one.

"You want to watch a movie or something?" I asked, standing up and straightening my skirt over my thighs.

"I don't understand," he said. "The night has been so great — you had a good time, right?"

"Yes. Of course I did."

"Then why not end it on a good note? Make it special?"

"I just… don't feel like it tonight. But we can watch a movie or something, and that will end it on a good note, too."

"We just watched a movie."

"We can watch another one."

"Lissa," he whined, giving me puppy-dog eyes, "please? If you don't want to, we can, like, do other stuff." His suggestive smirk made it clear that "other stuff" didn't mean watching a movie.

I stared down at the carpet, fiddling with the hem of my skirt. "I told you. I just don't feel like it tonight."

He tilted his head to one side and stuck out his lip like a pouting toddler. "Come on. I'll do anything. I'll beg." He flopped onto his back, sticking his hands in the air like a dog waiting for his belly to be rubbed. He even made whimpering pup noises.

"Stop it," I said. "You're silly."

"You love me."

"I do."

He sat up and looked at me seriously. "Then why not?"

I could have told him about the strike then, about our demands that the rivalry end, but I couldn't force the words out. After the good date, I didn't want to upset Randy more than I had to — and I knew that finding out about the strike wouldn't exactly lighten his mood.

"I'm kind of tired," I told him. "I got up early this morning to finish some homework and I'm just exhausted. I'm sorry. But you don't have to take me home yet. We can just curl up on the couch…. What do you say?"

Randy sighed and stood up. "Yeah, I guess that sounds okay. This night is supposed to be all about you, after all." He kissed me on the cheek. "But this means we have to have a night all about me soon, where everything goes my way." He grinned and

squeezed my shoulder before heading out of the room and walking downstairs.

That won't be happening anytime soon, I thought guiltily, before following him down to the living room, where we ended our date with a little couch cuddling and a Leonardo DiCaprio movie.