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“I wasn’t. I just said—” He cuts himself off. “Fuck, I don’t even know what I was saying.” He scratches the side of his face. “I feel like I was walking down the sidelines and suddenly ended up in Antarctica.”
I tell myself to settle down. Tucker’s my friend and teammate. He wouldn’t touch Fleur. There’s a code. Teammates’ girlfriends are off-limits, and despite Tucker constantly violating every team rule, that’s a line he wouldn’t cross, and if he did…well, then I’d have to kill him. Which I tell him. “Good. Don’t think about her or I will send your dead body to Antarctica.”
“Problem, boys?” Coach wanders over, probably sensing something.
“Nah, Tucker just started thinking about the world’s problems and ended up with his head in the North Pole.”
Coach cocks an eyebrow at Tucker. “Head in the game, son. Kickoff is about to start.”
Tucker shakes his head. “All I was trying to do was share some good news about Bubbles.”
“What about Bubbles?” Coach wants to know.
“No clue.” I shove my helmet down and then turn back to see if Fleur is watching. She is. I make a gun with my thumb and fingers and point it at her. Watch me, I mouth toward the stands.
Coach’s brows slam together. “Are you making eyes at a girl, Van? Your head should be in the game, not in your pants.”
“Don’t worry. This is going to be the best game I’ve ever had. I’m going to be open every down, so Park better throw it to me. We’re going for a record.”
“What record?”
“Whatever one exists, I’m breaking it tonight, and it’s all because she”—I gesture toward Fleur, who is now trying to hide behind Sadie again—“is here. In fact, I’m going to be so outstanding tonight that you are going to make a dedicated spot in the front row for her for every game because you’ll want a repeat of tonight’s performance.”
I shoot Coach a cocky grin, to which he responds with a shake of his head, but by the end of the night, Coach is at my side asking, with a dead serious expression on his face, “Front row did you say?”
“Front and center,” I reply with a smile.
Chapter
Eleven
FLEUR
Ididn’t know you could both want to cheer for something and also loathe it. Van is a god on the field. I’ve been to a few games over the years because of the paper. I never stayed for the whole thing, and often I watched game tape if something needed to be covered.
It is football. Sure, our school is good at it, but they’re out there throwing a pigskin around. Let’s just say it’s really not my thing. Or it wasn’t until I actually watched Van play. He made it look like a goddamn art. It has also oddly turned me on watching him move on the field.
I enjoyed it the first few plays. I might have even relished it when he pointed at me and everyone turned to look who had Van’s attention. Sure, whispers of our fake relationship might have started to spread, and not for a lack of trying on Van’s part. That’s for sure. Right now, he is center stage and is really letting everyone see it. He has a whole captivated audience that treats football and the players like gods, so he’s taking the opportunity.
A small part of me started to enjoy it. Not that I’d ever admit that. I’d even let out a few cheers. Then Bubbles Anderson sat one row up and over from us. That killed it all. My entire mood shifted.
I don’t like jealousy. Especially when it comes to girls being jealous over a boy, but it was eating me up. Each score Van made, I wanted to cheer for him. Then I wanted to throat punch him after hearing Bubbles go on about her plans and the party after the game. I was trying with everything I had to keep my composure, but she was slowly encouraging the green-eyed monster to the surface.
“I’m telling you Van wasn’t doing that for Bubbles.” Sadie tries to whisper to me as we exit the stands after listening to Bubbles go on about how much Van must want her. How he put extra effort in today so he could make sure to score the win.
Sure, I could have gotten in her face over my pretend boyfriend. But I knew that wasn’t going to work. Plus, if Van thinks I’m going to fight girls off him, he’s got another thing coming. It’s one thing to say I’m his girl, but he can peel his little groupies off himself.
It’s not my responsibility to manage Van’s fan club. Especially girls like Bubbles. No thanks. Van should have nipped all of this in the bud and not let it get to this level. Again, it’s not my problem. I honestly want nothing to do with this. I never should have agreed to pretending to be his girl. It was stupid.
I’ve seen how my mom acts with men. I hate it, and I know it’s not something I’ll ever do. Besides, Van hasn’t even given me any inkling of a story. This whole thing is pointless. In fact, all it is doing is stirring up a whole lot of feelings inside of me that I don’t want to deal with.
“Can you help me here?” Sadie elbows Dunc. That’s really not helping. Seeing the one boy in school that no girl could land fall head over heels in love isn’t something I want to have to stare at. Even though they’re adorable.
They are a stark reminder that I’ll never have something real like they do. I know this football game is the last place Dunc wanted to be, but he is here for Sadie.
“What? Van isn’t into Bubble.” Dunc shrugs.
“It’s Bubbles.” I correct Dunc, not sure if he really doesn’t remember her name, but it’s what Sadie has been calling her, so he’s going with it. I wouldn’t be shocked if he truly doesn’t remember.
