Do Over by Emily Evans

I’d have realized that standing near Trey was a tactical error.
    Zoe focused on Trey as if I’d backlit him with strobe lights. She sprang up so fast her lawn chair folded in on itself and collapsed into the grass.
    “Trust me, Trey. Not Zoe.”
    “I’m not sure when I gave you permission to weigh in on my life.” Trey tightened his jaw and lifted his chin. The country music twanged in harmony with his sense of oppression.
    “I’m not.”
    “Maybe she’s my date tonight.” Trey took a sip from his plastic cup. Sour beer fumes wafted out.
    Drinking made people either amenable to suggestion or obstinate to an irrational degree. I wondered which Trey would be tonight, as I said again, “Not her.”
    “Why?”
    “It’s not about you. She’s trying to compete with me or something weird.” I stepped even closer and put force behind my words. “Pick another girl.”
    “You don’t control my decisions.” Trey broke away and stepped toward the door. He didn’t get much further before Zoe reached him.
    Idiot. I shook my head. Zoe was a horrible choice. They were two bundles of destruction, waiting to bring out the worst in each other. Plus, at five-feet, she was way too short for him.
    I put myself between them, and tried to reason with her. I used the argument which would have worked on me to stop an imminent hookup. “Trey’s one of Dad’s jocks. A hookup and ship out kind of guy.”
    “Me likey,” Zoe said with a determined glint in her eyes.
    I grimaced. Only someone that short and cute could get away with saying something that stupid. I backed away from the couple.
    They stood a little too close and whispered to each other. Trey appeared even taller by comparison. For a moment, I thought I’d let him continue down this collision course, but frankly, I have a coach for a dad and strategy is in my blood. If plan A fails, go to plan B.
    Plan B was packed in the form of a cute brown-haired guy. He dug his toe into the sunroom’s blue Astroturf floor covering and paid more attention to it than the other guests. I walked over, kicked at his shoe, and grinned.
    His head popped up and he smiled. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”
    My grin deepened, mostly in apology for what I was about to unleash. “Call me Pez.” I grazed my fingertips over his shoulder. The universal flirting signal let him know I didn’t mind touching him. Next, I put a hand to my necklace. “Are you on the football team?”
    “I play for Magnolia.”
    “Ooh. How do you know John?”
    “John’s family has property out by my parents’ place.” Ryan glanced toward John. “He throws a cool party, huh?”
    “Yeah. John’s a great party planner.” It took a lot of effort to keep the sarcasm out of my voice and the smile on my lips. Prom in a field. John’s brilliant. I touched Ryan’s shoulder again. “Do you--”
    My words were cut off by the arrival of Zoe with Trey close behind her. Trey’s gaze rested on Zoe, but her focus had switched to Ryan.
    Zoe pushed between me and the new guy and licked her lips. “I can’t reach the spout because they hung the keg in the tree.” Zoe lifted her arms to demonstrate, resulting in the separation of her shirt’s hem from the top of her miniskirt. “You look tall enough to help.”
    Ryan’s head tilted and he zeroed in on her pale midriff.
    Trey frowned, catching a clue. His gaze met mine and he shook his head at me, as if I’d caused this.
    “Pez and I--” Ryan said.
    While impressed with his resistance, I knew it wouldn’t last. Zoe had skills.
    Zoe batted her eyelashes and held out a hand. “Pwease, pwetty pwease?”
    “Uh, well, okay, I guess I could help.” Ryan followed her with a backwards glance at me.
    I was surprised he bothered. Waving, I silently wished him well.
    “What was that?” Trey’s rich voice sounded annoyed, and his hand crinkled his plastic cup.
    “Told ya.”
    “Did you cost me my date?” Trey narrowed his eyes at the departing Zoe. “She’s not coming