However, that didn’t mean I wanted to be judged by his actions. I needed for Chloe to see me as separate from Ryan. As my own person. I needed to prove to her that I was different. That I wasn’t a bully.
I didn’t know why I cared so much what Chloe thought. Normally if a girl walked away from me, I’d let her go. But for some reason I couldn’t do that with her. When she stormed away from me earlier, it killed me. It was like someone took a knife to my gut. The reaction surprised me. I hardly knew the girl. We’d only had a few conversations. But those conversations were more meaningful than any I’d had in a long time. Chloe made me feel things. She stirred something inside of me. Something new and exciting. It made me anxious to see what would happen if things went deeper with us.
When she told me she’d give me a second chance, something shifted in my chest. My lungs expanded, air flowing freely. I hadn’t even realized it had been so constricted before. I was grateful for the lifeline she had thrown me. All I needed was one more chance, and I would prove myself to her.
I had no doubt about that.
The sun was unrelenting as it beat down on me. Inside all of my football gear the heat was stifling, the stink of sweat overpowering the smell of fresh air and turf. I palmed the football, savoring the smooth leather feel. Then I drew it back and released it, watching it shoot into Ryan’s waiting hands. My shoulder had loosened up. Maybe the spa had done it good.
“Nice throw, man,” Ryan shouted through his helmet. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Compliments weren’t something Ryan gave out freely, and usually they were veiled in an insult. But during today’s practice I’d been on fire. Even Ryan couldn’t deny it. I just needed to keep it up for the game Friday night.
A whistle blew out. Ryan palmed the ball and ran in my direction. Together we headed over to our water bottles. I snatched mine up and guzzled some cool liquid. It felt like a little piece of heaven as it coated my tongue and slid down my throat.
“Here you go, Miss Priss,” Ryan teased as a red jersey smacked me in the face. It’s what I wore when we ran plays so the other players would know I was the quarterback and wouldn’t try to tackle me. “Wouldn’t want you to get hit.”
“Me either, because if I did the team would be screwed,” I pointed out.
Ryan’s face soured. “Nah. Then Coach would put Sam in. We’d be fine.” As hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep a straight face, and we both burst into laughter. It’s not that Sam was a bad quarterback. He just wasn’t as good as me. No one was going to chance hitting me during a practice. The team wanted a guarantee that we’d win.
After running plays with the offensive line and then getting the entire team together for a little offense versus defense play, we headed back to the lockers to change. As much as I loved playing ball, I was more than happy to change out of my uniform. Clearly Mother Nature didn’t get the memo that it was fall. It was stinking hot today. So hot it felt like the middle of summer.
As I jogged off the field, my mind traveled to Chloe. I wondered if she was at the spa tonight. She most likely was. There was no way I’d set foot in that hot tub, but a dip in the pool might be just what the doctor ordered. As sweat slid between my shoulder blades, I decided to swing by the gym on my way home. I didn’t have my swim trunks, but I could jump in the pool in my shorts. It would cool me off and give me a chance to talk to Chloe, effectively killing two birds with one stone.
“So what’s the deal with you and marching band chick?” Ryan ran up beside me, breathing hard. Sweat clung to his skin, dampening his hair.
“Nothing.” I bristled, not ready to fill Ryan in on Chloe and me. Besides, it’s not like there was anything to tell. Not yet anyway.
“I saw you chatting her up after school. And it’s not the first time.” He eyed me funny. “You don’t have a thing for her, do you?”
I swallowed thickly, the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Chloe was hot, and she was funny and nice. Spunky, too. Unlike any girl I’d met. But none of that would mean anything to Ryan. All he saw was a band geek. That shouldn’t matter. I should’ve looked him right in the eye and told him I liked her. That I was attracted to her. That she was the girl from the spa. But for some reason, I couldn’t.
“Hey, man. Looking good out there.” Sawyer slapped me on the back as he jogged past. “We’re totally kicking ass on Friday night.”
“Was there ever any doubt, Riddles?” Ryan challenged him, using the nickname he’d given him freshman year. Sawyer’s last name was Ridley, and he was one of those guys who joked about everything. Rarely was he serious. That’s why the nickname stuck. Ryan may have come up with it, but now everyone called him that. “Even if Holden here couldn’t make a throw we’d still bury them. I still got my skills and mad speed. I make his bad throws look like good ones.”