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“Better now that you’re in front of me.” Speaking nothing but the truth, which has her cheeks turning pink.
Adorable.
“Did you see your friend glaring at me?” I ask her.
Willow’s gaze goes immediately to Alana before returning to mine. “We had a minor confrontation this morning in front of the library.”
“When? How did I miss this?”
“It was after you left. I ran into her and she immediately started saying snotty, hurtful things toward me.”
The wounded look on Will’s face is like an arrow to the heart—and not a good one either. “What did she say?” I sound pissed.
I am pissed.
“It really doesn’t matter.” She waves a dismissive hand. “She hates me. I accused her of putting on a show in front of me with Silas to make me jealous.”
“She probably does,” I say gruffly, annoyed. Why anyone would want to fuck with Willow is beyond me. “I hope you put her in her place.”
“I did.” Willow waves her hand again, like she wants to sweep this conversation away. “How’s football going?”
I like how she’s asking about it. And how she phrases it kind of awkwardly too. “Practice was intense. We’re prepping for our first game, which is an away game and I hate that.”
“You hate away games?” She’s frowning like she doesn’t get it.
“Well, sort of. It’s always better to have homefield advantage, but what I really don’t like is when the first game of the season is away. I prefer to kick off the season at home,” I explain.
“Why is it an away game then?” She sounds genuinely curious.
“The schedule switches every year. Last year, our first game of the season was at home. Actually, the first two were, and then we played three away games. It’s always changing every year.”
“Oh. I have no idea how any of it works.” She nods, smiling faintly. “I hate to admit it, but I know absolutely nothing about football.”
“Not a problem, Will. I can teach you everything I know,” I drawl, pleased to see her cheeks turning that rosy shade of pink again.
More than willing to teach her whatever she wants to know.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Willow
The week goes by quickly. Homework starts to get a little more intense, and I have my first quiz in American Government on Friday. I spend a lot of my time after school holed up in my room or at the library with Iris, working on our assignments that are due.
Well, I work on them. Iris has a hard time concentrating sometimes. She’s such a social butterfly and she looks at us hanging out at the library as a chance to talk to lots of people. Meaning, she’s a complete distraction.
Gotta love her though.
Rhett and I talk in class and we even spoke during lunch today, but he told me he wouldn’t be around school tomorrow because they have to leave early to travel to their away game, which filled me with disappointment. And while he’s not asking for more—like my phone number or to go out on a date—he is chatting with me in my DMs at night. Flirtatious messages that leave me blushing and wondering if he’s telling the truth.
You looked hot today.
Do you ever wear any other color lipstick?
Wish you could go to my game Friday. I want to see you in the stands.
That last message gave me way too much hope. He wants to see me cheering him on? He wants me to go to the game? Why can’t I? Just because it’s far? I’m sure we could leave after school and watch them play.
It’s Thursday night and Iris is in my room, tapping away at her phone screen while sitting on my bed, not bothering to study for our upcoming test.
