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Rhett removes his helmet and I watch as he faces the stands, his head slowly moving like he’s scanning the crowd. A few girls wave at him and when he waves back, it hits me.
He probably invites every single girl he talks to to come watch him play. Talk about arrogant.
I push away from the fence and hurriedly walk away, heading back to my dorm suite, battling the disappointment swirling within me. For a second, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could be special, but I’m not.
Not to Silas. Not to Rhett.
Not to anyone.
***
The next day in Honors English, I try my best to keep to myself, but I can feel his presence the moment he enters the room. The air shifts, filling with an electric warmth that seems to radiate toward me. The temptation to turn around and see if he’s there is strong, but I resist the urge.
Barely.
Remaining still, I focus on the blank page of my notebook, startling when I feel a gentle tug on the end of my ponytail.
I whip around, ready to say something, when I spot the forlorn expression on Rhett’s face. The words die on my tongue. He looks downright … sad.
“You didn’t come to practice,” he accuses, sliding into the desk directly behind mine.
Oh, come on. He had an entire fan club out there supporting him.
I part my lips, unsure how I might explain myself, but he keeps talking.
“I looked for you and everything, but you weren’t there.”
The retort escapes without hesitation, as if I have no control over it. “I’m surprised you noticed, considering there were so many girls in the stands.”
The smile that spreads across his face is blinding. Oh, he’s so pleased with himself. “You were there.”
I lift my chin, hating that I just ratted myself out. “I walked by the football field after school.”
“Uh huh.” He doesn’t believe me, and I suppose I can’t blame him.
“You didn’t need me there—you had enough support.” I turn back around to face forward, wishing the bell would ring.
Silas and Alana enter the classroom, Alana’s gaze meeting mine before she rises up on tiptoe and kisses Silas on the cheek.
“No public displays of affection in class, Miss Fitzpatrick,” Mrs. Patel chastises.
I send a quick smile to the English teacher before I duck my head, pleased that they got in trouble.
“I still missed you,” Rhett says from behind me.
Turning my head to the side, I murmur, “I’m not so sure about that.”
“It’s true. I really wanted you to watch me play.”
“It sounds boring.”
He scoffs, leaning forward. Close enough that I can stare into his eyes and see that they’re shot through with little strips of green. “You wouldn’t be bored watching me.”
I go still, momentarily mesmerized by the look on his face. The words he just said. Having his entire focus on me is the slightest bit disconcerting.
“Big ego much?” I blink at him.
He settles back in his chair, smirking. “Just stating facts.”
