Thank you for adding PLAYING CUPID to your Goodreads list! I'm so excited for the release of this book in February, and can't wait to share Megan, Amadeo, and Jay with you all! But first...a little sneak peek of the opening chapter.....
PLAYING CUPID by SC Alban
Chapter One
One final, and I could finally blow out of this school. One simple passing grade, and goodbye Mountain Valley High. So long. Peace out. I shifted my weight while standing in line and tugged on the bottom of my cotton t-shirt, every nerve in my body a tight bundle as I waited to pull the name of the partner who would help me with my escape.
When I signed up for Home Economics last spring, I thought it’d be a no-brainer. After all, it was just an easy elective for the jocks to pass in order to keep up their G.P.A. Who knew students would be expected to do actual work?
I bit my lip, rehashing how horribly I did on the sewing midterm. My cheeks grew hot as I recalled sewing a skirt to my pant leg during the hemming demonstration. Thank God the semester was ending with cooking. I’d been mastering the culinary arts since I was twelve. And by mastering, I mean making my own dinner and leaving leftovers for Dad. If I had any chance at all of passing this class—any chance of graduating early—this final was the key. It was my exit ticket out of high school. I just hoped chance favored me with a good partner.
My foot tapped double-time on the linoleum as I stood behind Eleanor Davis. My stomach twisted. Not only did we all have to suffer Ms. O’Dowd’s romanticized, and unhealthy, obsession with the 1950s and be partnered up in boy-girl fashion, but the woman also chose to go in reverse alphabetical order. Instead of having one of the first picks, I was second to last. My fate lay in the hands of my classmates. And I really hated waiting.
I glanced back at Sasha Abbott as she picked her nails. Poor girl. At least I got a fighting chance—a slim one, but still, at least I got to pick a name. She’d be stuck with whoever was left.
Ms. O’Dowd held the golden colander high above her head, ensuring no one could peek inside. The gleam in her eye hinted that she was enjoying the process a little too much.
Why did it seem like teachers enjoyed torturing their students? Because that’s what this was. Torture. Why couldn’t she have just assigned our partners beforehand? Why all the fanfare? I crossed my arms over my middle and blew out a breath, looking out over the rest of the class as they waited in their kitchenettes with smiles and laughter. Apparently, I was the only one that thought this ridiculous ritual was archaic and, well, dumb. But I knew better than to question Ms. O’Dowd, and her ancient beliefs, again. Especially after our little... disagreement about male and female salary inequality during the budgeting unit. Nope. Not going there again. It wasn’t my job to catapult her into present day thinking. Not when her grade was the only thing standing between me and freedom. I could be stubborn, but I wasn’t stupid.
“Okay, ladies, let’s keep the line moving.” She shook the container as Ella Stratford reached in.
Ella rummaged around the colander longer than necessary, stretching her time in the spotlight out for what felt like at least a freaking hour. Just pick a name! Typical drama queen.
Finally, after a prompt from Ms. O’Dowd to hurry up, Ella yanked out a slip of paper, waving it in the air like a flag, and then read the name as if she was a contestant on a TV game show. Ugh. Ridiculous attention-seeking brat.
“Jesse Dawes.” She brought her hand to her heart and fluttered her eyelashes before writing his name on the board next to hers. The rest of the class hooted and hollered. Everyone knew Jesse had a massive crush on Ella, including Ella. She’d probably use it to her advantage, too. His cheeks flushed red when she joined him in kitchen four.
I shoved my hands deeper in my pockets to keep from fidgeting as the line shortened at a sloth’s pace. Three more and it would be my turn. Who hadn’t been picked yet? I scanned the available kitchenettes, my eyes darting like a falcon searching for prey. Kyle Peterson, Stuart Kwong, Hugo Herrera, Chris Barnes, and...
My heart stopped, the blood in my arteries freezing mid-pump as my gaze landed on the last kitchen without a partner.
Jay Michaels.
Holy hell. A stone sank in my gut. Great. Of all the potential partners. Not that there were many options, but why did the laziest one have to be one of mine?
“Chris Barnes.” Brandi Jackson belted out the name and pranced to the back of the room to join her new partner.
No, no, no, no, my brain repeated, panicked. Anyone but Jay. I can’t be stuck with him.
Two more girls ahead of me. My lungs froze as Stacey Dyer pulled Kyle and Eleanor was matched with Hugo. There were only two names left in the colander Ms. O’Dowd dangled above our heads. My breathing became heavy, my heart pounding as I approached the colander like the gallows. Please God help me.
Looking back at Sasha, I searched for any indication she was as nervous as I was. She continued to pick at her nails.
“Okay, Megan, your turn.” Ms. O’Dowd smiled.
I glanced around the classroom. All eyes were on me. Two names left and I definitely knew which one would be a better choice...and his initials were not J.M. I snuck a peek at Jay, who sat on a stool in his kitchen area flipping through his phone. Apparently, he was too busy to worry about who his partner would be. Typical. Jay was always too busy to give anyone other than his phone attention. My eyes darted back to Ms. O’Dowd.
“Let’s go, Ms. Cooper. I still need to explain the final project before class is dismissed.” She put her free hand on her hip. Oh, sure, now you’re in a hurry.
I swallowed hard. Inhaling deeply, I raised my hand and placed it into the colander. Stuart Kwong. Stuart Kwong. Please be Stuart Kwong. I willed the universe to guide my fingers in choosing the partner I wanted. Finding a paper, I removed it from the colander and held it tightly in my grasp.
“Well, Ms. Cooper...who’s the lucky gentleman?”
It was the moment of truth. I closed my eyes, opening them slowly as I lifted the slip to my line of sight. I opened my mouth to say the name, but nothing came out.
“Well...” Ms. O’Dowd’s voice rose an octave.
“It’s um...it’s...”
The class was silent. I released a long breath and looked at the floor.
“Jay Michaels,” I muttered, tossing the scrap of paper into the trash bin before writing his name on the board next to mine.