Juliette was of the same snooty mold. Two years older than me, she was cover-girl pretty. I was always in her shadow. Juliette did her best to make me a miniversion of herself, but it just didn’t take. She took modeling classes, and as much as I tried to follow in her footsteps, I couldn’t walk in a straight line even without a stack of books on my head.
While I ran around with Ivy and Abby, Juliette always kept company with one of the many adoring guys pursuing her.
Now that Juliette was a freshman in college, I was the only young adult in the house. I received more attention from my parents than normal and the house was much quieter with her absence, but I secretly did miss her. She didn’t seem to miss home, though, since she was super busy dating college guys with Greek letters on their sweatshirts.
Unfortunately, my love life wasn’t as glamorous as my sister’s, until one day when I was approached by a guy I had had a crush on since first grade—Nash Hamilton.
Nash, Dylan, and Jake have had consecutive numbers on their football jerseys for as long as I can remember. Ivy and Abby had been dating Jake and Dylan since ninth grade. Since the three of them were best friends and two of them dated my best friends, it was always assumed that Nash and I should be sweethearts. But Nash always had a girlfriend.
It was at the end of sophomore year when Nash broke up with Heidi Rosen.
Ivy, Abby, and I were at a football practice when the team had a break. My friends chatted with their boyfriends, and I was writing ideas for future stories in my notebook. I went to the water fountain, and Nash approached me.
He leaned toward me and asked me out. I thought I didn’t hear him correctly. When he repeated his request for a date, I almost laughed.
“No,” I said, and walked away.
“Hey, come back.”
It was then, I think, he really noticed me. Not as one of the popular girls, but as someone who was different. I don’t think a girl had ever said no to him before. And I know he never chased after one.
I really thought it was a joke. Nash was known for pranks around school—gum on chairs, funny sayings on blackboards, sticking naughty pictures in textbooks—and I’d yet to be picked as his victim. I was sure that at any moment the school photographer was going to jump out from the bleachers and claim he’d captured the whole thing on video.
But more than that, I wondered why a hotshot like him would want to go out with me.
Ivy and Abby hung by the bleachers with a “What are you doing?” look on their faces.
I realized, then, that Nash wasn’t kidding. It wasn’t a prank, a hoax, or a hazing. Nash Hamilton was really asking me out.
Nash was a great catch—literally. He was the star running back on the football team.
I stopped in my tracks, and he came over to me with a surprised expression.
“Where are you running off to?” he asked.
“Uh . . . to look at my calendar,” I said flippantly.
A smile crept across his face. He knew he’d met a challenge as big as competing against a 10-and-0 team.
“I may already have commitments,” I said.
“What could be more important than a date with me?” he said seductively.
It was hard to resist him. He was very charming and charismatic. I did my best not to fold or quickly kiss up to him.
“I can think of a few things, but not many,” I teased.
“Volunteering at a nursing home?” he wondered. “I’ve heard you are quite the humanitarian.”
I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or sincere.
“In fact, yes,” I said defiantly, and continued on.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he said, stopping in front of me. “Then what about Saturday?”
I liked his tenacity, but I’d have been a fool to keep pushing him away.
“I’ll cancel my plans,” I said, knowing I wasn’t busy.
“Good,” he finally said. “Then mark my name in bold letters for Saturday night.”
My stomach filled with butterflies. I caught up to my friends, who cheered and jumped higher than two caffeinated cheerleaders. Not only were we a threesome, we could be a sixsome.
I was as stunned as I was excited.
My sister was the one who always had the doorbell ringing for her. Now it was finally my turn.
Nash and I spent our first date at one of his football practices. My friends and I watched from the bleachers as the jocks did push-ups and sprints and caught passes. It wasn’t as intimate and “get to know you” as I thought a first date would be. Since then, most of our dates had been spent with me on the sidelines, except for the occasional times he drove me home.
While I spent the games jotting down ideas for stories I hoped to write, Ivy primped for Jake, and Abby jumped on the bleachers cheering for Dylan.