"You're going to have to be vulnerable with him," Mallory walks me out to my car, "it's going to suck. He may use what you tell him against you for a while, but we'll train that boy that you own him. Then he'll fall for you and we'll crush him."

"This could take all fucking year..." I don't like that idea.

"It won't," Mallory smirks, "I have a feeling he won't fight you when he realizes how all the other guys want you, too."

"I really don't think he wants me at all," I can't help but worry that Mallory's plan relies on a crush that I don't think Bailey has.

"Once he sees you in your outfit tomorrow..." Mallory gives me wide pleading eyes, "all the guys are going to drool for you."

I roll my eyes, "I don't think so."

"You're hot, Max. I swear it. Cassie has just made you into a pariah simply because she can."

"I did it to myself. I stopped joining in."

"It doesn't matter. You're going to show up tomorrow looking like hot shit. We'll remind those boys you've got a body under those boyish clothes."

"Whatever," I don't have anything worth showing off.

"When do you two meet up?"

I fish out my phone to check the time, "I should be at his house now. He can wait, though."

"That's right. Make him squirm. He'll be pissed, but it will only make him want you more."

"I don't think he likes me, Mallory."

"Trust me, Max," Mallory nods fervently.

I hope I can trust you.

I take my time getting to Bailey's house, thinking about what Mallory said to make him wait. It takes twenty minutes and he sends three texts, letting me know he is home and waiting. His messages are patient and cool, but three messages in twenty minutes is a lot.

As I get out of the car and collect what I need for the project, I notice that Taryn's bike is missing. She either hasn't come home yet or left for something. My guess is that she is with Asher making out or doing whatever couples do these days. It only makes me more nervous for this plan of Mallory's. I have never had a legitimate boyfriend, so I don't know what the hell I am doing.

Do I even know how to flirt anymore?

Should I flirt or just be a bitch?

"What the fuck took so long?" Bailey demands, opening the door.

"Wow, what a greeting," I snap, pleased to be indecorous.

Bailey grabs my arm, hauling me through the door. I watch him glance up and down the street before closing the door. He's worried someone will know I am here. I roll my eyes and follow him down a small hallway. We pass a tiny kitchen with little counterspace and limited cupboards, a tiny space for a table with chairs, and walk into a somewhat spacious living room.

The room smells of pine sol and is depressing with the curtains drawn and only one lamp turned on. Bailey flips on another lamp and sits on the couch. There is a chair next to him, so I head for it. His hand catches mine and tugs on me. He gestures to the spot next to him as he digs out his notebook from his bag.

"What?" I glance back at the chair.

"That's my dad's chair. You'll sit here," he pats the cushion next to him, "now, Max."

"Geez, what a fucking gentleman," I ease into the spot and flip open my notebook.

Heat swathes around me and the smell of leather reminds me of the time by the pool. He was so weird that night and so close to me. I let myself enjoy it until he threw me in the damn pool. I was such a fool.

Bailey groans, "any new ideas for us?"

"Nope," I start sketching in the margins.

Bailey watches, "do you take art?"

I scribble out the doodle and write a title at the top of the page,

"You're not bad," Bailey elbows me gently.

"Okay."

"Shit, did I do something?"

"You mean other than tell your girlfriend my business?"

"I-I... Shit," Bailey grimaces, running a hand through coal black locks, messing it up, "I was trying to deter her, Max. I fucked up."

"No kidding," I can't believe he thinks I trust he actually wanted to get Cassie off my ass, "you should have known she'd only use it against me. It's not like I'm surprised you told her, but..."

After a long pause, Bailey asks, "but what?"

"I thought some things were still private."

"You're right," he concedes too easily, "I didn't have any right telling her your business. I should have known better. I guess I hoped she would have a heart."

"You two deserve each other."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means you're just as heartless."

"Excuse me?" He jerks in his seat to stare at me.

"Whatever game you two were playing before... You threw me in the fucking pool after you put in all that time to gain my trust. I don't even get why you bothered. Trying to break me, no doubt."

"That's not what I meant when I said I want to break you," he chuckles and then goes somber, "and I threw you in the pool to keep her from asking me to do something worse."

"Oh, sure you were protecting me," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

The front door suddenly opens and a beautiful woman with short black hair and eyes matching Bailey's appears in the living room. She is wearing blue scrubs with white nurse shoes and dark circles under her eyes. She smiles at me, surprised.

"Hello, you must be... Max?" She tilts her head.

How does she know me?

"Y-yeah..."

"How's your dad?" She turns to Bailey.

"Napping."

"I have eight hours till my next shift. It's a double, kiddo," she rubs her tired eyes, "I'm going to hit the hay. Don't forget to eat something, you two. Nice to finally meet you, Max."

She disappears down another hallway that I didn't notice before.

Nice to finally meet me?

I don't know what to say or how to broach that topic, so the best course is to ignore it. It doesn't affect me, and maybe it's not anything to do with Bailey. Perhaps, she remembers me from the accident and I was too sad and hurt to recall her being there. That makes more sense.

"Nurse?"

"Yeah," Bailey sighs, tapping a pencil on his notebook, "she usually works nights, but she covered an extra shift for someone today."

"What about your dad?"

"He doesn't work."

"So, your home life isn't hard...?" I recall our conversation from homeroom.

"If that's your take," Bailey shrugs.

I roll my eyes, "My dad is a doctor..."

"I know," he scratches the pencil lead into the blank paper.

"Okay... That's something we have in common."

Bailey cringes, "no thanks."

"Ugh... What the hell are we going to do then? We have to pick a topic by this Friday."

"You want to write about books," Bailey cocks an eyebrow at me, "I don't read in my free time."

"You want to write about sports and if you haven't noticed, I can't play sports."

Thinking and frowning, Bailey pouts, pursing his beautiful mouth.

Stop looking at his mouth.

"We must have something in common," Bailey finally manages.

"Like what? You're popular and a jackass. I'm an outcast and actually care about other people," it's definitely a mean jab.

"You're a brat when you want to be," Bailey snickers.

"You mean I stand up for myself."

Bailey shrugs, "same thing."

"Not really."

"Alright, alright," Bailey draws a line down the middle of his page, "let's both make two lists. Stuff we really want to write about and stuff that we will absolutely not write about for class."

He immediately begins. I draw a line down the middle of my page, realizing this isn't a terrible idea. It will help me know what he's passionate about and we might find some common ground. This will also work toward getting to know him and figuring out what makes him tick. It's information I'll need to make him fall for me.

I can't believe I am doing this.

"Are you kidding me?" Bailey huffs, scanning my lists, "not even plans for what we're doing after high school?"

"I don't have a plan."

"What? No college?"

I shrug.

"No job or anything, Max?"

"No."

"Shit, so no fucking plan."

"That's what I said," I stare at his lists, "you didn't write no books."

"No academics. Books are academic."

"Not necessarily," I am exhausted.

"Let's take a break," Bailey gets up and offers his hand, "we can eat something."

"What time is it?" I fret.

"It's like seven o'clock."

"Shit..." I fish out my phone, but no one has called or text, "I'm already an hour late."

"Curfew?"

"I just have to make him dinner by six every night," I divulge before I can stop myself, "I-I mean..."

"You're already in the dog house. Might as well own it," Bailey chuckles, "come on. I'll feed you and then you can go home."

Everything will be locked up at the house anyway and I am starving. I give in and follow him to the kitchen. I lean against the counter as he pulls out some leftover fried chicken and salad. I watch him prepare a green chicken salad and then he displays the two options of salad dressing. I go for the ranch and he puts the other one back, covering both salads in the same dressing.

"We can write about how much we like ranch," I raise my eyebrows at the amount of dressing.

Bailey actually lets out a genuine laugh. I made him do that and it was on purpose.

Wow, maybe he has a soul.

"Food?" He suddenly asks.

"What about it?" I cringe, following him to the table in the other room and sitting where he places the smaller salad.

"There's a lot we can do. Diets or something. Or just making a particular kind of food. We can write about pasta. There are a lot of different pastas."

"Uh... I don't know."

"You cook," he mentions cautiously, "you must be a good cook, right?"

I choke on my first bite and he thumps my back, "uh... I don't know if I'm a good cook."

"Why not?"

"He hates my cooking," I burn at my admission.

"Well, how about tomorrow you make me something? I can tell you honestly if you suck or not," Bailey stirs up his salad, "what do you like to make?"

"Pasta or...?"

"Anything, Max. Dream big."

"I like baking, but I never get to do that."

"What do you want to bake tomorrow?"

I take another bite to buy time, "I'm really good with cheesecake."

"Yeah? What do I need to get?"

"No. I can get the stuff."

"Why don't we go together?" Bailey suggests like that's normal, "I don't have practice tomorrow."

"S-sure."

"Now, we're talking," Bailey's tight shoulders slacken, "we might be getting somewhere."

💀

Awkward.

That's the only way to describe this freaking outfit. Mallory swore it would turn heads. The jean skirt hugs my legs and barely comes down to my mid-thigh. I slipped on black spandex to keep from showing off my blue panties underneath. Mallory won't approve when she sees, but I don't want to show off my thighs. I am sporting my black DC Chelsea tennis shoes to remain my normal tomboy self. The pine green shirt has a deep V-cut, showing off way too much of my breasts. I do not approve, but Mallory said I have to step out of my comfort zone.

Accenting my neck and exposed chest, I pull my hair into a high, messy pony and put in some black studs. I really like this shirt, but usually put a button-up shirt over it. I always wear layers and cover up my curves. I have too much of them.

Students stare as I cross the parking lot in the cool morning. Perhaps, I could have gotten away with a jean jacket for the morning at least. This outfit won't make sense next week when the fall weather really sets in. Hopefully as it gets colder, Mallory will accept my usual dressing habits. I don't think I can do this every day. I don't like having all these eyes on me. I used to be unseen until Cassie drew attention to me.

I don't like drawing attention to myself. I hold my head high and stop at my locker. There is a loud gasp and I peek over to see Cassie gaping at the outfit. I frown unsure how one simple ensemble transformation can really get to her, but then someone presses against my other side.

"Hi, Max," I turn to face a guy from the football team, "you look really hot."

He called me Max. Not Maxi Pad.

"Uh, hi, Memphis," I flush, taken aback by this swift change in the student body.

Kent Memphis is the star and captain of the varsity football team. I don't know why he isn't one of the Ghost Riders, but I've never seen him talk to them. He goes by his last name because that's what football guys do. Jock guys in general, really. He's barely under six feet with stylish, tidy blond hair, hazel eyes, and broad shoulders. He has a charming smile and everyone around the school likes him. And I mean everyone. He seems more amicable than even Asher.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you the other day in the cafeteria," he mutters when students continue on their way.

Everyone pauses to watch us talk, but keep going when they realize it's the nice guy Memphis. He isn't here to terrorize or call me a name. He is just being nice, though he did say I look hot. Really hot. That part doesn't go unnoticed.

"Which time?" I shove my backpack into the locker and fish out what I need for my first two classes.

"All of the above," he winces.

"Oh... Well, alright," I shut my locker.

"That skirt's really working for you, by the way," he smiles charmingly before sauntering off to his first class when the warning bell rings.

He's just lying down the ground work before he actually makes a move. Now that Memphis has taken notice, more guys will approach me, too. Mallory's plan is actually working, and I am suddenly nauseas with anxiety. I don't know if I can do this.

In homeroom, the teacher asks us to report how far we've come on picking topics. She wants to make sure we're working diligently to pick something that works for our partnerships. I glance at Bailey, whose eyes are sweeping over me and when he catches me looking, he winks.

A thrill zips up my spine, but I have to ground myself. I might like the attention, but I'm about to have a whole lot of attention on me from many guys. Unfortunately, I don't want the attention from any of them. The only one I want looking at me is the one I have to annihilate.

💀

No other guys approach me the rest of the day, but I hear the whispers. They aren't as cruel as before, but not necessarily pleasant. The girls think I am definitely a slut now and just not ashamed anymore. The guys keep asking each other what I am like in the sheets and if any of them ever kissed me or fucked me. Some lie and say that I am a shitty lay or that I can't kiss.

At my car, Mallory runs out to me, tossing her backpack to the ground. She wraps around my neck, swaying around happily. You would think we won some award or that our plan was finished and we beat the elite.

"I can't believe it," Mallory lowers her voice when she slips back, "Memphis would be the first guy to approach you. He's such a doll. Definitely use that to make Bailey jealous."

"So... Use another guy to make Bailey jealous, fight with Bailey, dress like a whore, breakup Bailey and Cassie, avoid Cassie but don't back down if she approaches me... This is a lot," I huff, but I am secretly enjoying it.

"You're not doing it alone," Mallory plants hands on my shoulders, "I've got your back."

"I am the one confronting all this in public. You get to stay protected on the sidelines," I raise an eyebrow.

"There is this party coming up, Max." Mallory immediately diverts, "I think we need to go, looking hot as hell. In the meantime, we need to do something to get Cassie out of the way. Bailey isn't a cheater even if he hates the bitch. We have to get him to break up with her or vice versa and free him up, so he can look at you for real."

"And what will you do?"

"I'll come up with the plan," Mallory waves her hand, "you're still new at this, but I'll take whatever suggestions you have."

"Whatever we do to her, I want her to look bad," I remember the picture she sent, "I want everyone to see her black fucking heart."

"Do you have something in mind?"

"She sent that picture of me around."

"Oh, she's got nude pictures of herself on her phone. She takes them for Bailey to seduce him. I don't even think he cares. He never responds," Mallory giggles, "he isn't even playing hard to get, but she thinks he is a prize worth fighting for."

"Too bad they don't know how perfect they are together."

Mallory's laugh rings out, but no one is paying attention to us, "can we head over to my house now? We can brainstorm."

"I have to work on my project with Bailey," I notice him walking toward us, "he doesn't have practice and is walking this way."

Mallory releases me and straightens, "shit, I better go."

"Mallory?" Bailey is surprised to see us talking, "since when the fuck are you two friends?"

"Since it's safer in numbers," Mallory snaps at him, placing a hand on her hip and popping it out.

"Explains the outfit," Bailey gestures to me.

"She looks hot," Mallory pinches my side, "doesn't she?"

Bailey scowls, "your car or mine?"

"We can meet there."

"Let's drop your car off at my place," Bailey growls, "then we can use one car to get to the store." Bailey pauses to glare at Mallory, "Bye Mallory."

Mallory holds up her hands, "alright, alright. I'm leaving."

Bailey's eyes scan me darkly.

What the hell is his problem now?