Smart Boys & Fast Girls (A Girlfriend's Guide to Boys) Read online

  Ms. Olsen was sitting at her desk when I jumped through her doorway. "Ms. Olsen. I'm here."

  She glanced up, then checked her watch. "Already?"

  "Yes." I wiped sweat off my forehead and waited for my breath to catch up with me. "Coach told me that you called him, and I wanted to talk to you."

  "Apparently." She gestured to a seat. "It's about your grades."

  "Yeah, I know." I sat where she'd told me, trying to play the role of the dedicated student. "But I've started studying with my friend Frances, who's a straight-A student at North Valley School for Girls. She's going to help me."

  She arched her brow. "When did you start studying with her?"

  "Um..." Given that the last test I failed was this morning, it didn't give me much maneuvering room. "We start tonight."

  Her fingers drummed on the desk. So annoying. "That's fine if you want to study with your friend, but you also have to work with the tutor I assign."

  I tried not to grimace. "But Ms. Olsen, I don't need a tutor."

  "You've failed every test and your homework assignments are a disaster."

  "Yeah, but..."

  "Natalie. School is more important than sports, and I am not one of those teachers who will make exceptions for athletes. I called Coach Thompson out of courtesy to tell him I was recommending that you be taken off the team, but he convinced me to try the tutor route."

  So it was Coach's fault I was going to be stuck with a tutor? "Ms. Olsen, please give me another chance to prove I can do better on my own. I really don't need a tutor. I'll work harder. I promise." She never would have kicked me off the team. It had just been a threat, and now Coach had given her this tutor idea.

  She picked up a piece of paper and handed it to me.

  It was a memo from her to our principal, signed and dated today. The recommendation to boot me from the team was more like a command than a request, and no principal was going to turn it down. Tension clamped in my stomach. "You're not going to send this, are you?"

  "It will sit in my top drawer. One more grade below a B minus and I'm sending it."

  I had to get a B minus? There was no way I could get a B minus on my own. Maybe, just maybe, I could avoid failing if Frances helped me, but a B minus?

  "If you don't average B's the rest of the semester, you won't be able to pull your grades up enough to pass the course. B's or you're off the team. And I will be grading your homework as well, so that better be good too."

  My homework, too? I swallowed and tried not to panic. "Please, you can't take the team away from me."

  "I sure can." She handed me another piece of paper. "Your tutor's name is Matt Turner. I already spoke to him. He's expecting your call and is ready to start tonight for the homework assignment due tomorrow."

  She looked at her watch. "He said he'd be in the library until four o'clock, so you can catch him if you hurry."

  As if I was going to race to the library so I could meet my tutor in public! Everyone was going to think I was such a loser if they found out I had a tutor. I wasn't cool enough to withstand that kind of hit to my reputation. Now I was merely a social oversight. If word got out that I was so stupid I needed a tutor, then I'd be an outcast. Fat chance of that. "I have to go back to practice."

  Her eyes narrowed and she suddenly looked like a psycho-killer teacher. "You want me to send the memo now?"

  "No!"

  "Then convince me that you're going to take geometry seriously."

  "I'm going to!" I hated teachers. Hated them! How could she take away the one thing that mattered to me? Because of geometry! Her ego was way too big if she thought geometry was more important to my future than running. Who got college scholarships from geometry, huh? Running was my ticket to higher education. And she wanted to pull me off the team?

  No way. I would show her I didn't need a tutor. "Is that all?" I clutched the paper with Matt's name and number and tried to keep my voice calm.

  "This is for your own good, Natalie. Someday you'll thank me."

  Yeah, right. There was zero chance of that.

  I stood up and walked to the door. If I turned right, that would take me back to practice. Left took me to the library.

  Her beady eyes were boring into my back, so I turned left. When I reached the end of the hall, I glanced back. She was standing in her doorway watching me.

  What? Didn't she trust me? So now I was stupid and a liar?

  Great. This day was going great.

  I could have been hanging with Zach and Valerie. Instead, I was going to meet a tutor.

  He'd better not make fun of me or I would be so out of there.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I was surprised at how busy the library was. I'd had no idea this many kids were there after school. I never thought about what people who weren't at practice did. It was a whole other world, I guess.

  As if I was supposed to be able to find Matt Turner here. I didn't even know what he looked like.

  "Natalie! Over here!"

  I spun to my right to see a geek from my geometry class waving at me. Please don't tell me that's Matt. It was bad enough to have a tutor, but I figured he'd at least be a junior or a senior. To have someone in my own class be so much smarter than me was the ultimate humiliation.

  Maybe it's not Matt. Maybe Matt asked him to look out for me and he's going to direct me to where Matt is. Yes, that's it.

  I sidled over to his table. "Yes?"

  "You didn't bring your books."

  "Yeah, I got called out of cross-country practice." I tried to catch a peek at his notebook to see whether his name was on it. No luck.

  "You talked to Ms. Olsen?"

  "Uh-huh." I might as well ask, I guess. "Are you Matt Turner?"

  If I wasn't mistaken, he looked completely offended for a split second, then a cool mask dropped over his face. "You don't even know my name? We're in the same class."

  "Yeah, I know. I recognize you from geometry." I wasn't a snob, I swear. It's just that I didn't spend a lot of time paying close attention in Ms. Olsen's class. She was the most boring, worst teacher ever... wait a sec. That's why I was failing. Because she was a bad teacher. Not because I was stupid!

  Then I frowned. So how come Matt could learn from her? Nice try, Nat, but apparently, you really aren't a brainiac. "So, are you Matt?"

  He nodded once, his face still cold.

  "Oh, come on, Matt. Don't take offense. So I don't know your name. There are a lot of people's names I don't know."

  "Yeah, everyone who you don't think is worthy."

  I frowned. "What kind of comment is that? I'm not a snob." Far from it. I was basically a loser, remember?

  "I could care less." He gestured to the book. "I'm being paid to improve your grade, so that's what I'm here for."

  "They're paying you?"

  He nodded and looked a little smug. Or maybe it was my total insecurity with the situation reading things into it. "Seven bucks an hour."

  "You're kidding." I felt like collapsing into the nearest chair. I was so stupid they had to pay someone seven bucks an hour to make me smart?

  Maybe I was wrong. Maybe running wasn't the key to my future. Maybe I needed to become a tutor.

  Yeah, as if that was an option. Obviously, you couldn't tutor if you were dumb. So that left me with running. Which was fine. I loved it. So there.

  "They're paying me extra for you."

  I blinked. "Because I'm so hopeless?" Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

  A flicker of emotion crossed his face. Sympathy? Because he knew how pathetic I was? I blinked harder to keep the tears at bay.

  "Because it's such a big-time commitment," he explained. "We have to meet every night to do your homework, and then plan extra sessions on the weekends to catch you up," he said.

  I slumped. "Six days a week?"

  "What? You can't bear to be with me that often?" He laughed. "Sorry, Natalie, but you're stuck with me." He seemed extremely amused by that fact.

 
"Why are you laughing?" He was laughing at me, wasn't he? Because he couldn't believe anyone was as stupid as I was. Great. This was great.

  "Because it's funny to see you pouting. Sports only take you so far in this world."

  I wanted to make a snide remark about the uselessness of brains, but I couldn't exactly do that, could I? We both knew brains were a good thing. I wondered how long he was going to make me pay for the fact that I hadn't known his name. Not that I didn't deserve his treatment, because I knew what it felt like to be overlooked.

  Oh, super. Thanks to Matt, I now felt stupid and like a mean jerk. I felt totally guilty for not knowing his name and making him feel bad, because I knew how much it sucked not to be worthy of notice. I experienced it every day at cross-country practice.

  Until today. Today things had changed. I had a chance to be cool. But only if I got back there before the window of opportunity closed. "As you can see, I don't have my stuff for math at the moment." I looked at my watch. Almost four. Shoot. Practice would be over soon. "What's your schedule later on?"

  He sat back in his chair and hooked his hands behind his head. If it weren't for those glasses and the smug look on his face, he might even be cute. I sort of liked his short haircut, and even his clothes weren't that bad. I mean, they weren't cool, but they weren't so embarrassing that I couldn't be seen in the same stratosphere as him.

  "Where do you live?" he asked.

  I hesitated, and he groaned in disgust. "Give me a break, Natalie. I'm not going to stalk you. Trust me, I have better things to do than spend my time hanging around your house hoping to catch your attention. I don't care how cool you are."

  Yeesh. Could he be more any more hostile? At the snide look on his face, I changed my mind. His glasses were geeky and I didn't like guys with blond hair. And he was arrogant. So there. "I don't think I'm cool."

  He ignored my protest. "I don't want to wait around after school until you get done with practice. I have things to do."

  What sort of things did a guy like Matt do? Did he go home and make up Excel spreadsheets? Program computers? "So what do you suggest?"

  "If you'd tell me where you live, I might be able to help."

  I rattled off my address. There was no need to aggravate the situation any further. It was obvious I didn't have to worry about him stalking me. He'd made it perfectly clear what he thought of athletes, and he'd lumped me in with the rest of them. Well, why not? Obviously, I fit right in. I was just another dumb jock who didn't hang out with the brains.

  "That's not too far from my house. I could come over later. About seven?"

  I was about to agree, when I thought of my parents. How was I going to explain his presence? If they knew he was a tutor, they'd take that memo off Ms. Olsen's desk and hand deliver it to the principal.

  Wait a sec. Tonight they had plans at some function downtown. Mom had told me to catch a ride home from practice because she couldn't pick me up. "Seven works." For tonight. We were going to have to find somewhere else to study in the future. Like maybe in a cave or something. Somewhere that no one could find us.

  He shoved his books in his backpack. "I'll see you at seven then." And without another word, he slung his bag over his shoulder and left me standing at the table.

  Somehow I felt like I'd been ditched. Weird. And ridiculous. Ugh! Just because Matt was smarter than me didn't mean he was better, even if he thought so. Tonight was so not going to be fun.

  But right now, I had to get back to practice and my new friends.

  I sprinted all the way through the school, across two parking lots and past the football field to the track, but no one was there.

  Gone already? There was no sign that cross-country practice had even occurred, except for my water bottle sitting on the bleachers where I'd left it after Valerie had invited me to stretch with them.

  So was that it? What if Coach Thompson had told the team where I was? What would happen at practice tomorrow? Should I sit with Valerie and her friends again, or wait for an invite? It was a tough call. If I waited for an invite, they might take it as a slight. But, if I sat down with them without an invite, they might be offended.

  If only I'd been able to run with them today, then I'd know how to act. My shoulders slumped and a lump clogged my throat. I'd been so close to having friends again, and now I had nothing except a tutor who thought I was stupid.

  "Natalie?"

  I spun around to find Zach standing behind me, still wearing his workout stuff. Zach!? He knew my name? Oh, wow. "Hi."

  "What happened to you at practice today?"

  He'd noticed I wasn't there? I was going to die right now. "I had a crisis."

  "What kind of crisis?"

  Oh, I found out I'm totally stupid and I need a tutor, why? "Um ... it's kinda personal."

  Zach lifted a brow and I felt like an idiot. This situation was already getting out of control! How was I going to avoid telling people about tutoring for the whole rest of the season?

  I had no idea, but I'd better figure out something fast.

  "Need a ride home?"

  I looked over my shoulder to see who Zach was talking to. No one except us. "Me?"

  He nodded.

  The urge to jump up and down and scream my head off seized me, but then I heard Allie's voice in my head. Be cool.

  Right. I could do that. I flipped my bangs out of my face. "Sure, I could use a ride, I guess." Did that sound casual enough? Too casual? Would he think I didn't like him? Should I have sounded more enthusiastic? Or did he already realize I was madly in love with him from the tone of my voice? Or...

  "You going to shower?"

  He thought I needed a shower? Since when would Zach care if I was sweaty? He was sweatier than I was. "Why? Do I need one?"

  He laughed. "I have no idea if you need one. That's your business. I was figuring out timing. I'm going to take a shower, so I'll meet you in the parking lot in ten minutes. Is that enough time?"

  Crud. I was such an idiot. "Yeah, that's fine." As if Zach had been thinking about snuggling with me and been giving me a hint to get rid of the sweat. "I'll meet you in the parking lot." I took off running toward the locker rooms before he could see me blush with embarrassment.

  I didn't need to shower since I hadn't worked out. I changed quickly, put on makeup and brushed my hair, and made it to the parking lot in seven minutes. Perfect. I didn't want to keep him waiting.

  Zach sauntered out of the locker room almost fifteen minutes later. For those who are math challenged, like me, that's twenty-two minutes. Not ten.

  He lifted a brow. "You're out here already? Most girls take forever in the locker room."

  Oh, wow. Was that a total slam that I wasn't girly enough? Please don't let Zach be one of those guys who thinks of me only as a pal. I wanted him to notice I was a girl! Obviously, changing in seven minutes wasn't the way to do it. Next time I was going to take a book into the locker room and keep him waiting for a much longer time.

  And I was going to have to talk to my friends. I needed to find out more appropriate girl behavior. They'd all landed boyfriends, so they must be doing something right.

  Zach nodded at a Jeep with no top. "That's mine."

  "This is so awesome." I threw my bag in the back and swung up. "I totally want this kind of car."

  He shot me another look. "Most girls worry that it'll mess up their hair."

  Gah. Another mistake? I'd only been with him two minutes! "Yeah, well, um ..." Was he thinking that I didn't like him because I didn't care about my hair when I was with him and because I didn't spend time primping?

  He shrugged. "It's cool."

  Cool? As in, "I won't kick you out of my car?" Or cool, as in, "I like that you're different from other girls?" Or cool, as in, "wait until I tell my friends about what an idiot you are?"

  After I gave him directions to my house (two guys in one afternoon!) I decided not to say anything else for the entire ride home so I couldn't screw up again before I had
a chance to talk to my friends. This year was going to be different for me, no matter what. I was on a new team with guys who didn't all consider me a buddy, and I was going to develop a new reputation if it killed me.

  "You run JV last year?"

  How was I supposed to be silent if he asked me questions? "Yes." Safe answer. Hadn't screwed up yet.

  "Was Sunday your PR?"

  He wanted to know my personal record? Why? "I had a race that was faster last year."

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. "So you're legit?"

  "Legit?"

  "You're really that good?"

  I shrugged and tried not to grin. Zach thinks I'm good. Zach thinks I'm good. Zach thinks I'm good.

  "You win many races last season?" he asked.

  "Yeah." But I couldn't muster up much excitement in my answer. With the number of running questions he was throwing at me, I was beginning to think that I had already lost the chance to be more than a buddy. He was driving me home because he wanted to get the scoop on the newest set of fast legs on his team, wasn't he?

  He cocked a brow at me. "It'll be different on varsity. You won't always be running in the front."

  "I figured that out." Sure, I'd scored second for the team, but I'd actually come in tenth. Fortunately, our top five runners all came in pretty high, so we won the meet. I'd been running in a pack the whole time and had been bumped more than once.

  "You need to practice running when you're not the fastest."

  "That's why I race." I realized I was jiggling my legs, as if Zach was making me nervous or something. Be cool, Natalie.

  "Running with me will make you train harder. If you want to double, I run in the mornings before school. If you're around at six-thirty or seven, we can hook up."

  Hook up? I'd love to hook up with Zach. And I'm not talking about running. Was he using running as an excuse to hang with me? Or was this really about running? How was I supposed to tell? "Maybe I'll swing by." Yeah, in between tutoring sessions. Gak!

  Much too soon Zach pulled into my driveway. My mom and dad's cars were still in the driveway, but they would be heading out soon. I hoped. If not, I was going to sit out in the street and tackle Matt when he arrived to keep him from coming into the house. "Thanks for the ride."