The Unofficial Zack Warren Fan Club

Chapter 1

Chloe

Under the fragrant limbs of a magnolia tree an unofficial meeting was held. The meeting’s subject matter was nothing related to science. It was dedicated to one person, a special person, or so the attendee’s thought. I knew the truth, that the meeting was a waste of time and a show of stupidity.

From my seat high in the bleachers I watched, feeling like an outsider. I haven’t been to an unofficial meeting since the fifth grade, the day I wised up, and now it was nearing spring break of my freshman year of college.

It’s been a long time. Sometimes I think it hasn’t been long enough.

I’m friends with a lot of the girls…until they gather for their meeting and I’m forced to make a choice: Be part of the craziness or pretend to ignore it.

Normally I was good at ignoring.

This was not the case today.

Despite my dislike of the meetings reason for existing, I felt a little nostalgic. This was the last chance I’d have to attend an unofficial meeting. After today, no one could ever know about my association with the club. It was imperative.

I closed my eyes, warring with choices, and the potential repercussions from them. But I knew when I once again looked on the group that the decision was made. I was only stalling.

For old times sake I’d join them, and while I was at it, hopefully talk some sense in to them.

I grabbed my backpack and climbed down the metal walkway from the bleachers and walked across freshly mowed grass. The group was chattering excitedly, hushed giggles tumbling toward me.

There were about thirty girls from all walks of social life sitting in the grass under the tree. Band geeks, theater kids, cheerleaders, physics majors, a few seniors, and normal girls like me…all gathered harmoniously.

In this club everyone was equal.

Well, look who it is. One of the cheerleaders said, drawing attention to my presence. This, ladies, is Chloe Baker.

A couple girls gasped, and I winced uncomfortably. Hey.

Thee Chloe Baker? a little blonde questioned

Yep.

My friend Lana beamed. She is the reason why we gather every week.

Oh, god. I might as well have a plaque beneath the tree with my name on it.

Lana continued. Once upon a time there was a girl, who had an enormous crush on a boy, but she wasn’t the only one, so she started a fan club for the girls who worshiped him.

The Unofficial Zack Warren Fan Club! they all cheered.

And I never thought it would last. I sank to the ground cross-legged, wondering what had possessed me to attend this meeting, and how it followed me half a state away to college.

Nostalgia is for idiots and Zack Warren is trouble.

I knew it the first time saw him in second grade. The boy had heartbreaker written all over him. He was two years older, wiser. He did a back flip off the jungle gym, landing right at my feet with a cocky grin, getting dirt all over my new pink Keds.

He didn’t apologize.

Instead he dropped a lizard on my head and called me prissy.

Despite the fact that we didn’t hit it off on day one, I harbored a huge crush on Zack, my first ever. In the third grade I started a club. Girls only. We dubbed it an unofficial club because we thought some powerful person, like Oprah, had to deem it official.

We have since discovered that is not true, but the name had a nice ring to it.

During our unofficial meets we talked about Zack, spied on him, and risked being found out on a regular basis. What a rush, seriously. It was going great. The group accepted new members, and we even drew up plans for a clubhouse. I invented a fun game and made new friends.

Then, when I was in the fifth grade, Zack stole the streamers off my bike.

I cried, and made the very rational decision to hate him until the end of time.

This effectively ended my reign as leader of The Unofficial Zack Warren Fan Club.

Which, last I heard, was still accepting unofficial members.

I glanced back at the pitcher, Zack Warren himself, and wondered why all these smart girls were attending a silly club, playing a game I started when I was eight.

Chloe, don’t say it. Lana snapped, reading the annoyance on my face.

I have to go home. I was about to stand, but one of the girls grabbed my arm. Marcy. She played the tuba; last I heard she didn’t attend meetings. Don’t tell me they sucked you in too.

Her frizzy, brown hair flew in her eyes and she had to push it back. Just take pictures.

Oh, lord.

It’s like we have a spy on the inside, Christy Stillwater, the drama club president, cried through her headgear. She was in a boating accident last month and broke her jaw. Some of the girls had taken to calling her chomper.

I hear he wears nothing! a cheerleader squealed. Not boxers, briefs, or boxer briefs. He’s goes commando!

A freshman girl blushed. At lunch, someone told me he had to use two rulers to measure his…um, thingy.

It’s called a penis honey. One of the senior girls provided.

It can’t be that long. Another girl said. Where would he put it in those pants?

Zack was in his baseball uniform across the field practicing, and now every girl was staring at his crotch.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Stop!

Bigger than average, someone concluded.

Oh! Lana gasped. Chloe I want you to be the first to have one.

She pulled a plastic bag from her backpack and fished a shiny, pink object out.

I stared down at a button. My nightmare manifested in real life.

Proud Member Of

The Unofficial Zack Warren Fan Club

Each one of you is certifiable. I glared at them, feeling the blood whooshing in my ears. This can’t be happening! You’ve managed to keep this club a secret, but what happens if you loose a button?

Lana snorted. We wont.

I tried a different approach. What if Kyle finds them?

She shrugged, examining her purple nails. I’ll keep them hidden.

Like the club schedule he found?

He didn’t know what it was for!

He climbs through our dorm room window every Friday night while I’m at study group. Don’t deny it. All it’s going to take is for you to leave a button where he’ll see and you’re screwed.

I’m already screwed. She laughed.

Since when have you and Kyle started sleeping together? Christy asked, proudly pinning a button to her shirt.

Since winter break. Talk about a lack of modesty, but that was Lana. I’m in love, Chomper.

Am I the only person here who thinks this club is morally wrong? Seriously creepy? No one said a word. I rolled my eyes. Fine, whatever. Just keep the buttons hidden. I really have to go.

Marcy pouted. At least snap some covert pictures, Chloe. You know what it would mean to us.

No. I pushed to my feet. This is a child’s game, and for some reason you’re all still playing. It feels weird drooling over Zack now. He’s not a piece of meat.

You’re right, he’s a hot piece of ass. I didn’t dare look at the person who said that, because it was a guy.

And why are you here? I asked Lana. You have a boyfriend. Doesn’t that mean something?

It’s not like I’m cheating on Kyle.

No, just undermining his value. The decision to cut myself off was final and they had to understand that. From now on my affiliation with this club is history. Make up some other girl. Say she started it. I’m going back to the dorms.

Don’t listen to Chloe, Lana said to the group. She can be so dramatic.

I’m not.

Zack’s never going to find out. You don’t need to be worried. Marcy grabbed two pins and stuck them in her purse.

The reason she’s pissed is because she likes Zack. Lana smiled. Admit it.

Wrong. I hate him. I left them to finish the meeting. To moon and drool over the baseball player that, more often than not, went out of his way to annoy the absolute crap out of me. Zack probably got some sick pleasure watching me squirm.

The club was like my own personal curse or something. I was able to put up with the immature high school antics. When Zack went away to college I thought the bullshit would stop. Lana and her little followers would grow up. But they didn’t, they worshiped him from afar for two more years. So I figured it was a high school thing. No self respecting college girl would join a fan club for a baseball player, no matter how hot. By the time we graduated they would grow out of this phase.

I was so freaking wrong.

Lana and I applied for Eckerd College. It’s a private liberal arts school in St. Petersburg Florida, on the Gulf of Mexico. Only a couple hours from home in Naples, Florida. When we got accepted to the same school Lana and I were thrilled. We were even allowed to be dorm mates.

I honestly didn’t think going to the same college as Zack, who was now a junior, would be a problem. Why should I let his presence keep me from going to the school I wanted?

My first day on campus, I realized there was a chance I’d never escape from the fan club. Lana started talking about having meetings, continuing the club. I ignored her. I figured her enthusiasm for worshiping a jock would be laughed at. Not that I wanted her to be shunned or anything. I thought a nice dose of the real world would be good for her.

It was now two days from my spring break as a college freshman, and in that time, Lana had cultivated almost fifty followers for the club. It was ridiculous.

I felt an acute annoyance, with a side of steaming, childish frustration and confusion. For some reason, smart, beautiful girls, spent a few minutes listening to Lana about how great the club was, and they signed right up.

He was just one of those guys. Zack Warren walked into a room with a cocky strut and a wicked glint in his eyes. Guys wanted to be him. Girls wanted to be with him.

As I stomped past the god of baseball, it wasn’t hard to understand why so many girls loved Zack. Sure, he was intriguing and strong, and so what if he had a killer smile? I just couldn’t bring myself to like him.

Ever since the fifth grade Zack and I have hated each other, and that’s never going to change.

Chapter 2

Zack

The bases were loaded. It was my turn to bat. I hit the ball past the third baseman, just barely avoiding a foul and slid to second for the fun of it. Tobey hit, took me to third, and the bases were still loaded. Crack. The sound of Kyle’s bat connecting with the ball echoed, bringing us in with a homer. After the third out I took my place at the pitchers mound, feeling more at home and in control than anywhere else on the field. It was always like that. And while the outfielders took their places, I let my gaze wander the field.

A girl wearing a purple dress caught my eye.

Zack, pitch the damn ball or go ask the hottie for her number. Max McFarland, a sophomore up to bat complained. I gave him my best curveball, striking him out. Then I glanced back at the girl, felt my hands sweat even more than usual. I had to agree, she was hot.

Max taunted me. Looks like your hottie is leaving.

I ignored him, knowing he was trying to distract me. Chloe Baker. Her ponytail bobbed and swayed, practically hypnotizing me as she marched away from the group of girls sitting under a tree. She looked pissed.

Hey…pitch it. Come on! Tobey shouted from first, bouncing on his toes.

I nodded, acknowledging his frustration, and struck the next guy out.

Three outs later we switched again.

Chloe Baker wasn’t just hot. Max liked to rile me. She was one of a kind, pretty and smart. I’d never seen another girl like her. Her hair color fell somewhere between burgundy and brunette. It was always shiny. She had an upturned nose and wide hazel eyes with thick black lashes. She was naturally attractive, almost earthy, and had a wacky sense of humor. Her witty comments caught most people off guard when they met her.

Kyle joined me on the bench in the dugout. Hey, you seem out of it.

I shrugged. Got a lot on my mind.

Dude, I feel you. Lana is driving me crazy. Kyle fondly referred to himself as Halfrican American, because he was half black half white. I’d never heard the expression before. Kyle liked to make sure he was up to date on the latest urban phrases. But by the time they made it into his vocabulary, it was usually no longer cool to say them. He pointed to the group of girls sitting in a circle under the tree, passing a bag around. It looked like candy, but they didn’t eat it, and shoved little pink disks in their pockets or purses. What are they doing?

Planning world domination? The girls liked to meet each week in the same spot, weather permitting.

Oh, wait. Now, look there. He eyed the only guy in the whole group of girls. How is he invited to their little powwow, and we’re not?

I bet he’s gay.

Seriously?

We watched for a while longer, and when the guy stood, he had a distinctive sway to his hips…like a girl. His pink pants only made the image worse.

Shit, Kyle said. We lost another one.

I shrugged. "More power to him.

Dude?

Chill. I have a gay cousin.

Cool.

What do they talk about? I wondered if anyone actually knew. Most of the guys thought it was a book club. Only, where were the books?

No clue.

You’ve never asked Lana? His girlfriend was probably the most annoying gossip on campus, and the leader of that particular group.

Lana doesn’t like to talk about her meetings. Kyle reached for his sport drink.

And why is that? What’s the big secret?

Oh, I don’t know, and I don’t care. She’s having fun, bosses me around less with all her girly minions to keep tabs on. He grinned, taking a drink. When we do talk, we let out bodies speak for us, and we’ll be doing a lot of communicating tonight.

I’m sorry I asked. Kyle was…how could I put it nicely? Sex-crazed. But only when it came to Lana. He didn’t look at other girls. Last week we were at a party and some chick flashed the room. Kyle shrugged, saying Lana was sexier. Me, I felt kind of bad for the girl. She was never going to live that down. I had to pretend being flashed was the highlight of the night. If I had my way, I would have brewed a strong pot of coffee, sobered everyone up, and taken the girl home. But being hassled by a bunch of dicks wasn’t high on my list of things to do. So I sat, pretending to drink myself into oblivion and share in the fun.

Why don’t you take out one of the Mason twins? Kyle suggested. Or, go for both. Blow off some steam and get out that frustration. Get laid, man. Trust me, it helps.

Who says I’m frustrated? I crushed my water bottle and lobbed it into the trash.

Actions speak for themselves.

Yeah, okay. I’ve got some stuff I have to deal with. I’m not going to have sex because of that. I’ll go for a run. I rolled my eyes when he made an obscene gesture. Cut it out.

You’re being a nun.

Seriously? A nun?

You’re probably the only guy on the team who still hasn’t given up the v-card. He nodded toward Chloe. She’d stopped to talk to a couple people outside the practice field. What about that one? I see you checking her out.

No. It’s not that I want to stay a virgin forever. I just didn’t feel it was the right time to do it. I had way to many things going on. And from what I heard the other guys talking about, and from what I saw. The girls tended to get clingy when sex was involved. I’ll do it when I feel like it.

His eyebrows shot up. Un-huh, I think that’s a yes. She and Lana are friends. I could put in a good word for you.

Chloe and I have issues we need to work out.

When Lana and I have problems—

I said no, and I know I’m not the only twenty-one-year-old virgin. For half the guys I knew it was just a bunch of talk. They were bullshitting everyone to save face.

But why? What’s stopping you? he asked. I know you haven’t been with anyone because of her. She’s the reason why you keep your pants zipped. If you don’t ask her out, you’ll be waiting forever to tap that.

I lowered my voice. Think really hard, Kyle. Chloe Baker. Ring a bell?

Dude! That’s her?

Yup.

When you fuck it up, you really fuck it up.

Max barreled into the dugout. Hey, if you don’t want the hottie, consider her virginity mine.

Kyle snorted. Today must be asshole day.

I choked, literally. What the hell is wrong with you?

Nothing. Max said.

Something. I eyed the guys around me, specifically, the ones that followed Max. This was a game I wanted no part of. Max and his idiots would target a girl and pick someone to have sex with her. See who put out easy, who was a nun, and if it took less time than the girl before. It was disgusting.

We’re not going to have a problem, are we, Warren? Max cracked his knuckles

Half the team evacuated the dugout, leaving Max and three of his guys with Kyle and me.

Tobey hovered in the doorway. He wouldn’t be much help in a fight. He weighed one thirty soaking wet, and only got on the team because I convinced coach to give him a chance. Which turned out in our favor.

Tobey could run faster than anyone in school. Stealing bases was cake for him. He wasn’t a bad hitter either.

Chloe Baker is off limits. I said.

Max frowned, running a hand through his shaggy hair. She’s just a girl. Plenty of them to go around.

So if she’s just a girl, Kyle asked, why don’t you find someone else?

An evil grin lit Max’s face. Because the thought of me with Chloe makes Warren crazy. You watch her like a hawk.

You don’t want to see me really, truly crazy Max. I nodded at the doorway. Just go.

I think I do. He planted his feet.

I pushed off the bench. In three strides I was nose to nose with two hundred pounds of sweaty, smelly, ass hole. The thought of him getting near Chloe made my blood boil, and I had to dial down my temper. My reaction took me by surprise, too. But I didn’t stop to think on it. I’d go with my gut, analyze later. You want to see if I’m kidding? I get that you think this is funny. Just wait till I’m really pissed—you won’t be laughing then.

So, the star player can talk the talk. He backed up, grinning. And here I thought you were just some pretty jock.

Watch it, McFarland. I’m not in the mood to fight. He was trying to bait me, upset me to the point where it came to blows.