Crave (Harlequin Teen)

driveway, visible past Vicki, and spotted Nanna pulling up right on time for the end of the party. “Oh, there’s my grandmother. I’d better run. See you two next week at boot camp.”
    I jumped to my feet and said a general goodbye to everyone before making a quick escape.
     
    The following week, Greg didn’t call, of course. But I knew he wouldn’t for one simple reason…I hadn’t given him my home phone number, which was listed under Nanna’s name. And none of my friends would give out my number.
    I should have been upset about our date’s delay. But running around in the sweltering hundred-plus-degree heat all week at the high school for the Charmers boot camp left me too tired to care about anything but cold showers and sleep each evening. And when I could think straight long enough to wonder about Greg, I kept picturing him calling every Colbert in the phone book and asking for me. No doubt that mammoth ego of his was getting frustrated. The idea made me grin.
    I wondered if it would take him until the start of school in two months to find a way to get my phone number, or if he’d just give up. How fragile was Greg’s ego? And how badly did he really want to go out with me?
    I got my answer that Saturday at the annual Charmers team slumber party to celebrate the end of boot camp and the start of regular summer practices. We gathered at the main gym in the high school’s sports and art building, the same place where we had all auditioned for the right to be Charmers. I kept my gaze away from the side of the gym where the judges had sat. I still wasn’t sure I’d made the best decision that day. Who knew if the effect from my gaze could have overridden the council representative’s vampire persuasion?
    But it didn’t matter anymore. I couldn’t change the past and was tired of even thinking about it. Better to think about the future and how to fit in on this team.
    Surprisingly, it turned out not to be hard at all to fit in with the Charmers. The team traditions definitely helped, because the managers were included in all of them just as if we were actual dancers on the team. We received the same sterling-silver team charm bracelets as the rest of the team, with the same team logo, boot and star charms symbolizing our team goals. Our names were included in the bowl when everyone drew for Secret Sis game-day gift giving. We learned about the team’s rule to call each girl “Miss” and whatever her first name was, and that rule applied to us managers, too. And when Mrs. Daniels played our team’s theme song for the year, Luther Vandross’s version of “The Impossible Dream,” I wasn’t the only one who got a little teared up by the emotional music.
    Suddenly, tenth grade didn’t look so bad.
    After the ceremonies and gift giving, the team played a long game of pillow fighting while balancing on one foot. It turned into a tournament, and I nearly won until Keisha yelled out my name and distracted me. One surprise wallop to the head from this year’s new captain, Paula, and I put my foot down and lost.
    “Miss Keisha!” I whined, making everyone laugh.
    “Maybe next year,” Captain Paula sang out with a smirk.
    A loud pounding on the locked building’s foyer doors made everyone jump and squeal.
    Captain Paula ran to the gym doors, peeked out then yelled, “Pizza’s here.”
    “That’s us,” Head Manager Amber said to the managers while climbing to her feet. Keisha, Vicki and I followed her out to the foyer, its linoleum freezing cold under my hot feet.
    Wonder what we do if there’s a fire? I thought as Amber unlocked the foyer’s glass doors in a blast of heat to let in the delivery guy.
    “Hello again, Savannah, ladies,” Greg Stanwick greeted us from behind a stack of pizza boxes.
    Stunned, my lips curved into a smile before I could think about it. “Hi, Greg.”
    We each took two boxes from him. He stared at me throughout the process, making me feel a little self-conscious as the summer heat made my T-shirt stick to my back.
    I should probably say something to him other than hello. Then again, Amber was there and I was on official Charmers time, so maybe I shouldn’t.
    “Okay, we’ll be right back with the receipt,” Amber told him.
    I gave him a sheepish smile goodbye and followed the head manager into the gym. While Amber had Mrs. Daniels sign the credit-card receipt, the rest of us set out the pizza boxes on the food table.
    “Miss Savannah…” Amber joined us