Ash was smirking at me, and Becks didn’t seem too thrilled about it.
Looking between us, one eyebrow cocked, Becks said, “You two are pretty close then, huh?”
He’d addressed the question to me, so I answered, “Yeah, we’re getting there.”
“Very close,” Ash agreed, coming up beside me, placing a hand on my back. He dropped a quick kiss to my hair, and Becks winced.
“How’s that going?” was Becks’s next question.
“Great.” I gulped. No need to tell him Ash was turning out to be more of a friend than a boyfriend. There was absolutely no need to tell Becks there was no spark. Not like I’d felt with him.
“Great,” he repeated, staring me down. “It’s strange don’t you think? How quick you two came together.”
“Sometimes you just know,” Ash said.
Becks grunted.
I was still having hallucinations from all the nakedness, so I was glad Ash was on top of things.
“Spitz has everything I’m looking for,” Ash went on. “She’s way too smart for me, but I love her quirky sense of humor. It doesn’t hurt that she’s beautiful.”
Stupidly, I felt flattered. Sure, it was a bunch of crap, but crap or not, Ash was good at flattery.
“So I assume she’s shown you her CWC.”
“Becks,” I hissed. Nothing could’ve snapped me to attention quicker.
“Her what?” Becks grinned at Ash’s confused expression. “Spitz, what’s a CWC?”
“Go ahead,” Becks prompted. “Show him, Sal.”
Oh, he was so dead. I was fairly sure steam was coming out of my ears, and it had nothing to do with the midday heat.
“What’s wrong, Sal? You said you two were close.” He shrugged, shooting me that same infuriating smile. “Just thought he’d like to see some of your hidden talents.”
“Hidden talents?” Ash asked. “Is CWC slang for something—” He ran his fingers down my spine, and I jumped up in shock. “—‘cause if it is, I’d be happy to see whatever you’ve got to show me.”
“You disgust me,” Becks spat.
“And you bug the hell out of me,” Ash replied. “We’re even. By the way, that lucky beard is stupid.”
“And so are you. I guess we’re even there, too.”
“A real soccer player wouldn’t need to rely on tricks to win a game. Some of us get by on natural talent.”
“Shut up, Stryker.” Becks’s eyes flashed. “You don’t know anything about it.”
“I know we don’t need some dumb fairytale to help us win State,” he said and before Becks could say anything else, “Spitz? You gonna show me or what?”
They were both looking at me expectantly.
“C’mon,” Becks said, his frown dissolving into a slow smile. “We worked on it for weeks in fifth grade, remember?”
“What?” Ash said in shock. “Fifth grade? That’s pretty young isn’t it?”
“Fine,” I sighed.
It’d be better to just get it over with, and someone had to get Ash’s mind out of the gutter. Drawing in a deep breath, rolling my eyes at Becks’s grin, I titled my head up and released a sound somewhere between bird mating call and dying dog. It lasted all of ten seconds before I ran out of air.
“Wow,” Becks said, sounding like he meant it. “That was great, Sal.”
“I know, right?” I smiled. Instead of feeling the waves of embarrassment I expected, I was proud of myself. That was one of the best Wookiee calls I’d ever done.
“What’d you think, Ash?” Seeing his perplexed expression, I said, “CWC stands for Chewbacca’s Wookiee Call. Becks and I learned how to do it off this online tutorial.” I smirked at Becks, “But he couldn’t even get the first note right.”
“Hey,” Becks said indignant, “I could outdo your Vader any day.” And then he proceeded to demonstrate the fact, grinning afterward as I gave a silent round of applause. He was a good Darth—raspy voice, low and menacing—but he couldn’t do Chewie to save his life.
“I thought it was ‘Luke, I am your father,’“ Ash said.
“Amateur.” Becks switched his focus to Ash, a challenge in his eyes. “What can you do, Stryker?”
If I didn’t like him more than anything, I’d have said Becks was being a real jerk to Ash. But The Whip refused to be intimidated. Ash pursed his lips, looking around a moment. Walking a few steps, he grabbed up a lacrosse stick and waited until he had our full attention.
Lifting that stick high in the air, he scowled at nothing then gripped it between both hands and bellowed, “You shall not pass!” He drove the stick into the ground with all his might, arms quivering with the force of impact.