Page 35 of Unexpected Shot
Dude yawns. Actually yawns. “Is it happening soon?”
I give him a questioning look. She’s his girlfriend. Which, I don’t even know why. Chad’s my best friend, but he’s a douche. Shelby can do so much better than him. Then again, I know the guys at our school aren’t interested in her, so she’s never had a boyfriend that I know of. It’s not because of her looks. She’s tall, blonde, and athletic. She has tanned skin from her time on the course, and the little shimmy she does before she tees off is fucking adorable.
But none of the guys at our high school see that. All they see is the girl who took a five-iron to a dude’s car because he cheated on Hannah. They see the girl who’s told nearly everyone at their school what’s on her mind, and didn’t mince words when doing it. They’re scared of her. Plain and simple.
But if they got to know her like I do, and how Chad does, they’d know that yes, she’s a competitor. Yes, she’s fierce. But she has a vulnerable side too. One she only shows if she’s let you in.
And apparently she’s let Chad in.
I was shocked when I found out they were dating. I didn’t even know he liked her. Or that she liked him. But they seem happy, so whatever.
But… are they not? He barely congratulated her after she made her final putt today, and now he seems like he’d rather be anywhere else. I know if my girlfriend just won the biggest tournament of her life, I’d be front and center to see her get that trophy.
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
He nonchalantly shrugs, not taking his eyes off of his brand new Blackberry. “I’m going out with Maylee tonight.”
“Maylee? The cart girl?”
“Yeah,” he says, like it was the most ridiculous question. “I’m seeing other people.”
“Does Shelby know that?”
No way she does. If she did, there’d be a golf club protruding from somewhere in his body.
“She doesn’t. And you’re not going to tell her, right?”
I’m ready to spit back that yes I’m going to tell her, because no one deserves to be cheated on, when I feel a strong hand on my shoulder.
“Beau? Ready to accept your trophy?”
“What trophy?” I’m shocked, because last I knew, second place didn’t get one.
Dr. James, the tournament director and a big-wig at the country club, escorts me to the front of the room where the trophy presentation is about to happen. “We’re so proud of you son. We all knew you could do it.”
“Do what?”
“Win the tournament.”
Win the tournament? I didn’t win the tournament. Shelby did. Something’s wrong.
I can’t get my bearings as I’m pushed toward the front of the room. Other players and members are slapping me on the back, congratulating me. I’m looking around, trying to find someone, anyone, to tell me what’s going on.
I look over to my mom who’s still here, but she looks just as confused as I am. My dad had to get back to work, and since I didn’t win, there was no reason for him to stay. My mom insisted on staying to take pictures of Shelby since her dad couldn’t be here.
Shelby. Where’s Shelby? Is she still in the bathroom? I haven’t seen her since she left, but I need to find her.
“Shelby. Shelby won. I need?—”
I can’t get out the rest of the sentence as I’m turned to face a bunch of cameras, because of course the country club brought out the local paper. Not knowing what to do, because I’m flat out confused, I paste a smile on my face. It’s fake. If anyone knows me, they know this isn’t the real one. But I don’t know what to do.
“Come over here, son,” Dr. James says. “Stand right here next to me.”
I lean in, because I have to stop this.
“I didn’t win,” I whisper to him. “Shelby beat me by a stroke. I checked the scorecards. I signed off on them. This isn’t right.”
I’m shocked when I see him shake his head. “Oh, son, no need to be modest. Now put on a smile and accept what’s rightfully yours.”
