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“Guess it won’t matter to you then if I find some other girl to spend my time with.”
His words are like a slap in the face.
“And it won’t bother you at all if some other girl that’s in our class is wearing my jersey on game day,” he continues.
“Is that a thing?” My question is a whisper, floating away with the breeze.
“It’s definitely a thing,” he bites out, his gaze boring into me. “As a matter of fact, I might ask Iris if she’d like to wear my jersey on Friday. Think she would?”
It would absolutely kill me if he asked my cousin that. She’d tell him no, I have no doubt about it, but knowing he’d ask … imagining her wearing his jersey at the football game and looking cute while cheering him on?
No. I can’t stand the thought of any girl doing that.
But I can’t do it for him either. How obvious would I be, showing up to the game in his jersey—not that he’s said he wants me to wear it, but I’m guessing he’s implying that—yelling my encouragement from the stands. Westscott able to witness me doing exactly what he told me not to do.
There’s just no way.
“We should take our photos,” I tell him, changing the subject yet again. I grab my phone and aim it at Ezekiel’s statue, snapping a halfhearted photo. I didn’t even check if it was in focus so I take a few more, hoping one of them is decent.
Rhett does the same, not uttering a word, and I can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s angry. With me. I suppose I deserve his anger. All I have to do is open my mouth and tell him the truth but …
I don’t want to cause any trouble. So I’m just going to hold on to it and keep my secret.
Even if it kills me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Willow
“You’re going to the game, right?”
We’re sitting at our usual table during lunch with Bronwyn joining us. We’ve become a threesome, Bronwyn fitting right into the slot Alana vacated. I like Bronwyn. She’s sweet and she’s funny and she doesn’t seem prone to drama. Not that Alana ever did either, but sometimes I would see this look in her eyes that told me she was envious of Iris and me. I get it. It’s not easy being friends with us. We’re as close as sisters.
“I don’t think so.” I smile and duck my head, concentrating on the grilled chicken sandwich sitting in front of me. I grab hold of it and bring the sandwich to my mouth, taking a big bite.
“Why not? Come on, Willow. It’ll be fun. Everyone goes to the first home game,” Iris stresses.
The idea of sitting there watching everyone cheer Rhett on while I can do nothing but sit on my hands and pretend that he doesn’t exist? Sounds like torture. I’m being selfish, but I have to protect myself. This week in photography class has been pure torture, having to work with him. He’s given up trying to reason with me and instead we have stilted conversations while we work on the various assignments.
It’s awful.
“Not me,” I say brightly. “You know I don’t like football.”
“I don’t even watch the games,” Bronwyn says. “I’m just there for the snacks and the gossip.”
“Yeah, it’s not always about the game, though I’m sure our team will bring it.” Iris sends me a pouty look. “You wanted to go last week.”
“That was last week.”
Iris rolls her eyes. “Come on. Go for me.”
“You don’t need me there.”
“I want you there. Big difference. Plus, I need to cheer on Brooks. Don’t you want to support him?”
“Brooks? Since when do you cheer on Brooks?”
“He’s always been a friend.” She shrugs, her expression downright mysterious. “And I like to support my friends.”
