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I pause in front of Grant but he doesn’t seem to notice I’m here. His eyes are too busy over his shoulder, locked on Ty’s rear end.
“Hey, Grant!”
His eyes flick in my direction. “Oh, hey, Lover Boy.” He nods. “Did you see that? Ty gave me a high-five.”
“I saw.”
“I’m making progress.”
I smirk. “Is Eliza with you? She said she’d be at the game today.”
He shakes his head. “She went home.”
“Home?”
“Yeah, she’s sick.”
Disappointment stabs deep into my chest. Or is this concern? “Sick? How?”
“I don’t know. She left rehearsal early today because she started throwing up.”
“Is she okay?”
“I’m sure she is.” He cranes his neck to watch the rest of the team rush inside. “Check your messages. If you had plans, she probably texted you.”
“Thanks.”
A visual shiver crawls over him. “I don’t do vomit, man. Blood and guts? Cool. Vomit? Nope.”
I pat his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll make it through this.”
“I hope so.”
I head for the locker room, sifting through the victory high-fives and pats on the back from my fellow players, and dig through my backpack for my phone. Just as Grant said, there’s a single message from Eliza.
I’m not feeling well tonight. Reschedule? Sorry.
My fingers start tapping out a reply, telling her that she doesn’t have to apologize and that I’ll see her on campus Monday if she’s feeling better.
I nearly hit send but I pause, quickly feeling that dark worry rise up in my gut again. I’d much rather go check on her myself but I can’t just wander over to her house. If her dad comes home, it’ll be hell trying to explain what I’m doing there.
I drop my phone into my locker and peel off the rest of my uniform while I try to think of a way to see her tonight.
I should be buzzed as all hell, ready for a night of partying with the rest of the school. We just won the Homecoming game. This school hasn’t done that since the late 90’s. No one’s sleeping tonight. It’s going to be a straight-up hootenanny here until dawn — and I’m the quarterback. Girls, booze, whatever I want tonight, I could probably snap my fingers and have it hand-delivered to me on a silver fucking platter.
But all I really want to do is see Eliza.
After a quick rinse in the shower, I get dressed and step out into the hallway of the athletic center, flipping my phone over and over in my hand. There has to be some way to—
A sharp giggle pierces my ears and I pause before rounding the corner towards the offices.
I peek around, spotting a middle-aged woman in a too-short skirt lingering outside of the offices with Cary Pierce.
He’s got his hands all over her and she just keeps on giggling while her own hands scratch down to his groin.
Yeesh.
The Coach leads her away, wrapping his arm around her and whispering God-knows-what into her ear.
