The Naughty List (The Naughty List #1)(52)
Author: Suzanne Young

I was happy that I didn’t have to do any more spying for SOS—knowing that I’d never have to videotape another sexual act or hide under another restaurant table. Kira and Leona had said they’d handle the society, but after the mishandling of the last few missions, they’d agreed it was time to let SOS go.

Leona drafted up a final letter and let me review it before sending it out. Then we hid all of our old equipment and files in a garage at Izzie’s grandparents’ ranch. Even though SOS was gone, we didn’t have the heart to get rid of the stuff. At least not yet.

But my perk did not return. In fact, my depression seemed to deepen. I missed several practices and my new cheers were less than inspiring.

At the games, my parents’ signs became more and more colorful; probably they were trying to up my spirit, but it didn’t work. I needed more than glitter and puff paint. Instead, I just watched Aiden race up and down the court, successfully ignoring me whenever I was near. My parents only asked me about him once, and I told them the entire truth. No more lies. That was my new motto. Well, that and, “Can I have whipped cream on that?” This depression had earned me about five pounds of guilt.

Chloe joined a new crowd. She and Christian seemed to patch things up when he started sitting with her again at lunch. Her group consisted of other sophomores who weren’t nearly as moody as her. I hoped they could give her some guidance in the attitude department. She definitely needed it.

But the Wildcats played well. Our team had made the playoffs for the first time in three years, and as Smitten Kittens captain, that should have made me ecstatic. But it didn’t. It had been four weeks, and my ex-boyfriend had yet to speak to me. There was nothing inspiring in that.

I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to lead the cheers for the big game. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

SOS TERMINATION OF SERVICES

Dear Clients,

It is with a heavy heart that SOS announces the termination of our cheater identification services. Due to recent events and dramas, it was determined that SOS was no longer able to effectively conduct investigations.

Enclosed you will find a self-discovery questionnaire to help you decide for yourself whether or not unfaithfulness is occurring. But SOS urges you to always base your decisions on concrete evidence. Not hunches. And certainly not the hunches of boys that may have ulterior motives.

SOS is thankful for your years of referrals and donations. We hope that we have made high school a safer place for your hearts.

Best of luck to you all in your future romantic endeavors.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER, TESS, AIDEN looks like total crap.” Kira smiled in a show of support. The gym was loud around us as the Wildcats raced from one end of the court to the other during the final round of the playoffs. But Aiden seemed exhausted, dribbling the ball with little oomph.

Luckily for Kira, my requirement for clean language had been relaxed over the weeks. In fact, every image-conscious thing I’d ever worried about seemed absolutely petty and ridiculous. I didn’t even wear ribbons anymore.

Cheering through the playoffs had been difficult. Good thing this was the last game. My self-esteem was in the gutter. I was a horrible role model, and worse yet, I was a cheater. Of sorts. I mean, sure, I’d been manipulated, but nothing excused the fact that my passion pink lips were on the mouth of someone other than my boyfriend. I’d even used my tongue. Gross.

I dropped my head, staring down at the shiny wood of the gymnasium floor. My pom-poms hung lifelessly at my side. There was no cheer that could help me now.

The shrill sound of the buzzer startled me. I felt the girls line up, poised to tell the Wildcats to attack, but I stared at Aiden. His hands were on his hips as he talked to Coach Taylor, nodding. He looked so cute in his basketball shorts. I remembered how much I always liked him after a game. All sweaty and manly. We weren’t as perfect as I’d thought, but we’d been happy. I knew that.

Why had I been so quick to think he was cheating? My suspicion had gone from zero to sixty in a nanosecond. Sure, there was SOS and the history of cheaters, but Aiden didn’t have a history. Maybe we really had simply grown apart. I sniffled.

I’d never brush his damp hair away from his face again. Or hear his tender whispers in my ear as he massaged my shoulders. I’d totally effed up. My life was a mess.

“Tess,” Kira called, smacking my shoulder with a gray and maroon pom-pom.

Right. The buzzer had sounded, signaling that warm-ups were over. I was supposed to lead an encouraging cheer. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath.

I was still a Smitten Kitten. People depended on me.

There was a distinct squeak as my sneakered toes crossed the planks to the middle of the court. It was soon followed by the sound of eight other squeaks. I looked at the crowd. They were pumped. People had actually painted their faces to look like cats. Normally, that would have made me smile. But now, I could only force a grin.

I lifted my maroon and gray pom-poms in the air and shook them. The room quieted at the familiar swooshing I provided. I knew the usual cheer, but it didn’t seem to fit the mood I was in. Something about being miserable made me less perky. Then I began a stomp, soon to be joined by my squad.

“Get the ball, get, get the ball.”

They echoed.

“Ducks will fall, yes, yes, they’ll fall.”

Echoed again.

“Score it, dunk it, BEAT THOSE DUCKS!”

“Let’s show them, WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK!”

The crowd finished the sentence with me and then went wild with crazy screams and uproarious laughter. Well, that pumped them up. I dropped my pom-poms to my side and turned. The girls stared at me, mouths agape. The opposing team looked at me, almost frightened by the frenzy I’d created. And then the Wildcats looked at me, mostly impressed. Except Aiden. He stared at me with a look of surprise I’d never seen. He’d been so obnoxiously calm. It was nice to see that I could still ruffle his fur.

My sneakers let off an admittedly adorable perky sound as I marched back over to the sidelines. The crowd was chanting, “Sex Kittens!” They should have probably been saying, “Wildcats!” or even, “Smitten Kittens!” But what the hay, at least they were making noise.

I dropped crossed-legged on the floor and folded my hands delicately on my lap. My squad walked over, watching me like they were afraid I might pull out a switchblade and murder them at any second. I was not unaware that they all sat at least three feet from me.