A Good Boy Is Hard to Find (The Naughty List #3)

chapter 3

When practice ended, I was aching in places where I didn’t even know I had muscles. I could tell Chloe was hurting, too, but she kept a brave face. And well-paced breathing. The other girls had to stop a half hour before practice ended, but I wouldn’t hold it against them. I was working them hard.

After we dismissed the candidates, the squad gathered on the front bleacher to discuss the practice. I paused to stretch out my throbbing hamstrings.

“I have to say,” Kira announced, “Chloe’s doing a spectacular job.”

“Figures.” Leona began to chew on her thumbnail. “You nominated her.”

I looked down at the wood floor, not wanting to really talk about Chloe or her quest for my crown. “How about the other girls?”

“I don’t know, Tess,” Izzie said. “Chloe seems to be the only one that can keep up.”

Suddenly, the doors of the gymnasium cranked open and Coach Taylor stomped in. I didn’t mind Coach T, especially since he let us manage ourselves, but as he hiked his pants up around his considerable waist, I tensed. That was a sure sign of something important.

“Afternoon, Coach T,” I said, smoothing my ponytail. “Everything okay?”

He stopped short, his lips pressed together under his bushy mustache. “Tessa, would I be here if everything was okay?”

Good point. Coach T made a habit of avoiding our practices when he could. Something about “too much estrogen” for him to handle.

“Just got a call about our upcoming game against the Ducks,” he said.

“Biggest football game of the year,” I added. The Ducks were the Wildcats’ rival team. Cocky and obnoxious, they beat us every game no matter what. But this year, with Blaze Harmon leading the pack, we had a chance. Unless, of course, he was distracted. Hm …

“Now Principal Pelli just called me into his office with some news. And it’s big.” Coach T nodded his head and looked around at us so we could feel the gravity of his statement. Mostly, we just blankly stared back at him.

He sighed heavily. “The game is going to be televised,” he said, sounding annoyed. “ESPN is coming here as part of their high school spotlight program.”

“Oh. My. Word.” Kira stood up, clutching her chest. “We are going to be so famous!” The other Kittens squealed but I saw Coach T roll his eyes.

“So what do you need from us?” I asked, sensing that this wasn’t just a social visit.

“I need you to fill the stands. I need you to make this game exciting. I’m not sure we can beat the Ducks—”

“Why would the Wildcats start winning now? Suck much?” Leona mumbled. Coach T shot her a look, and she apologized before he continued.

“Like I was saying, the Ducks are a tough team. And with ESPN coming, we need to look like contenders. We do that by having an excited, raucous crowd. That’s your job. And those are my orders.”

I nodded. It seemed simple, cheering for a big game, but I could read between the lines. Coach T wanted something special. He wanted a sellout stadium. And the Wildcats football team hadn’t sold out a game since Phil Collins played our halftime show, like, eighty years ago.

We needed to swing for the fences. Wait. Wrong sport.

Suddenly, Leona’s phone beeped loudly with a message, and both Coach T and I glared at her. It was very frowned upon to have your cell on in the gymnasium. She glanced down but then snapped her head up to widen her eyes at me.

Man on the moon! It was about the mission. Thinking quickly, I reached forward to put my hand supportively on Coach T’s forearm. “Thanks for your belief in us.” I smiled. His lip curled slightly. “We’ll make you proud.”

Coach T stepped back, seemingly made off balance by my sweetness as he looked around at the squad. Then he hiked at his waistband again and snorted, “See that you do, Tessa.” With that, he turned and hustled his way out of the gymnasium.

The minute the metal doors clicked, I rushed over to Leona. “Give me the double scoop.”

She handed me her phone as I sat on the wooden bleacher next to her. I looked down and scrolled through the SOS text message.

Blaze Harmon is hooking up @ the field house in 10 min. Might want 2 add him to yr Naughty List

The message had come from a restricted number, so I couldn’t pinpoint the source. But that wasn’t unusual. In the spying business, we couldn’t always vet all of our sources. In fact, a lot of Naughty List tips came anonymously.

“It’s about Blaze,” I said, turning to look back at all the girls. “He’s hooking up at the field house in ten. We need to go.”

“I can’t wait until this mission is done,” Leona said, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. “I’ve been listening to the locker-room chatter nonstop, and I’m so sick of hearing about jock itch.”

“Ew.” Kira scrunched her nose.

“I know, right?”

“You’ve done a nice job, Leona,” I said. “Now, you and Izzie come with me. Everyone else take off. We’ll have a meeting before school about the findings. Plus we’re going to need to start getting organized for the big game.” The girls murmured excitedly and collected their things.

“What about me?” Kira asked. My heart skipped a beat as I looked over at her. She was my go-to spy. Or at least, she used to be before she’d tried to ruin me.

“Right,” I said quietly. “You’re with me, too.”

Even though Kira was suspended from the squad, we’d decided that we still needed her on SOS. She had a good sense for undercover work, and she knew a lot about the guys at school. She was an asset we couldn’t ignore.

Not that I completely trusted her yet. And not that she forgave me about Joel. But we’d called a truce. Or at least, it appeared that way.

I took a deep breath, slightly relieved. This mission had me stressed out, and now with the ESPN news, I wasn’t sure I could split my time so easily. And I had to admit, I was a little curious as to who Blaze was seeing. His girlfriend Trishelle was, like, a total supermodel.

The girls and I scooped up our gym bags and jogged toward the locker room to change into appropriate spy gear. We pushed into the room, quickly undressing. It was nice to be together again like this. We were like a SWAT team, only way peppier.

“So who do you think it is?” Leona asked as she pulled her uniform shirt over her head and tossed it on the bench.

“No idea,” I answered. “I can’t picture Blaze with anyone but Trishelle. Remember them at prom last year? Adorable.”

“They were a vision in blue,” Izzie added dreamily.

“Well, whoever it is,” Kira said, slipping into a pair of black spandex shorts, “I bet she puts out. Word is Trishelle is one of those purity-ring chicks.”

“No way.” Leona laughed. “Wasn’t she the one at the WSU party that played spin the bottle with Alpha Phi?”

“Yeah, but that was a sorority, and I don’t think girls count.”

“True.”

“Focus,” I said, securing my ponytail. “Now we need to get out to the field house without being detected. What’s the best path, Leona?”

“Up the west side behind the bleachers and then along the far wall.”

“Perfect. Are we ready?” I glanced around and smiled when I saw my squad looking completely stealth. I had to admit, although I preferred pink, black was a fabulous color on us.

“I have to pee,” Izzie said, biting on her lip.

“No time,” Leona spoke up, flipping her wrist to look at her watch. “We have to move now if we want to catch the cheat in progress.”

“Can you hold it?” I asked.

Izzie made a squeaking sound and then nodded. It was awfully sweet of her to risk a UTI for us. Sometimes our spying demands were terribly inconvenient.

Leona led the way as we filed behind her. I glanced back toward the parking lot but didn’t see Blaze’s silver Trooper. Good. It meant he wasn’t here yet.

When we got to the field house, Kira slid her pack off her shoulder before picking the lock and pulling open the heavy metal door. “By the way,” she said, looking over at me. “I wanted to talk to you about updating the SOS handbook.”

“Updating?”

“Yeah.” We entered the room, and again the smell made my nose twitch. I used to love this athletic smell on Aiden—somehow on him it was sexy. But in here, it just smelled like sweat. I pushed away all thoughts of Aiden (and his smells) and scoped out the scene. “We’ll talk about it?” Kira asked.

I glanced at her. “The handbook?” She nodded. “Uh, sure. I’ll bring it up next meeting.” I looked for Leona. “Time?” I asked.

“Minus three minutes,” she whispered. My heart fluttered. I wasn’t sure we could set up proper surveillance that quickly.

Just then there was a noise from outside the door. “Snapple facts! Get to the back!” I pushed Izzie, and we scrambled toward the back corner of the room, behind the lockers. We’d just turned the corner when I heard the metal clang of the door hitting the wall.

“In here, baby.” It was Blaze, and he was using his sexy voice. Gosh darn it. This was going to be another confirmed cheat. Always one hundred percent. It was enough to make my sunny disposition cloud over.

There was a mumbling, but I couldn’t catch what his accomplice said. Instead, I heard the clacking of heels on the tile of the locker-room floor. Jeez, she was stomping around like a chimpanzee. They were getting closer.

I put out my arm and backed the girls as far into the corner as I could. The clacking stopped. They were on the other side of the lockers, the sound of smacking (kissing?) coming from that direction.

“I can’t see shit,” Kira mouthed. I rolled my eyes. “Pyramid,” she added.

I shook my head. Moving might be too risky, but how were we going to confirm the cheat without a photo? I shifted on my sneakers, trying to decide the best course of action.

Leona nodded, telling me that she agreed with Kira’s idea. My stomach turned. I had a bad feeling about this. When we spied in close proximity situations, the general rule was to stay put. Not engage in gymnastic endeavors.

Izzie and Leona got down on all fours as Kira stood in front of them making the base. It was just high enough that if I stood on her shoulders, I’d be able to see over the metal locker. There was a slurping noise from over there. Ew!

I put one black-sneakered heel on Leona’s back and then grabbed onto Kira as I hoisted myself up. We were silent—like cheerleading ninjas trained in the sacred art of pyramid building. Slowly and deliberately, I put my feet on Kira’s shoulders, and then I was in the air, completely stable.

I reached my hand out and felt someone slip a camera into my palm. Without looking down—because that could surely make me fall—I lifted it up to eye level. Then I looked through the lens. It took me a minute to find them, but there, across the room near the shower door, was Blaze and his accomplice. Her back was to me, and I had to admit already, she was definitely not as shapely as Trishelle. In fact, from behind, she looked like a linebacker.

Her blond hair was stiff, almost wiglike, and she was wearing an awful minidress that looked like she’d picked up at Walmart. Not that Walmart was unusable, but for minidresses? I’d say so.

I zoomed in as Blaze’s hands massaged at her back and they were in some intricate hug/kiss. Gross. If Blaze kissed like that, I’d think Trishelle would be glad to get rid of him.

Quickly, I started clicking off shots, waiting for the accomplice to turn around. I needed her face. Not technically. This was enough to prove the cheat, but a shot of her face would be nice for future reference. We could keep her on our possible cheater radar. Sort of like I had done with Chloe. Or Mary Rudick.

At the thought of Mary’s name, my jaw clenched and I held the camera a little tighter. My breathing changed, coming out in short gasps, but I needed to stop. I couldn’t keep thinking about her and Aiden.

“Shhh …” I heard and glanced down. Kira was giving me a stern look, and I realized I might have been growling out loud. I swayed on my feet. Whac-a-Mole! Why did I look down?

I thrust my hands out to my sides as if I were walking a tightrope and straightened my posture as Kira held my ankles. It took a second, but finally we got our equilibrium back. Whoa. Total save.

When I adjusted the camera, I froze. Blaze and the girl were no longer kissing. Her back was still to me, but now they were staring at each other. I wondered if I’d just missed something big.

I zoomed in closer, hoping to catch the side of her face. Just then, she shifted in her heels, and I readied my trigger finger.

“Turn,” I murmured. And just then, the figure swung around. I clicked the camera furiously and—

Holy Spumoni! She had a beard!

My entire body flinched, and I felt the camera slip from my hands as I tried to regain my balance. But it was too late. Before I could grab onto the lockers or anything else, I felt myself falling from the sky, heading face first toward the tile floor of the locker room.

Suzanne Young's books