Page 43 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

I turn, smiling when I see Naz standing at the top of thestairs leading back into the house. He walks over to the wall where the teamposed minutes ago.

“Forgot this,” he says, grabbing his uniform jacket.

“No ‘fabulous’ on your tie?” I ask. Immediately, I regretthe comment. Cliff said it was just for starters. Naz might be sensitive aboutriding the bench.

“Not for backups.” He smiles, watching me stretched out onthe blanket. I resist the temptation to fold my arms over my bare stomach. Hiseyes are on my face anyway, and he doesn’t creep me out like some of Cliff’sother friends do.

“Well.” He holds up the jacket. “Guess I better go.”

“What’s your name?” I blurt, sitting up on the blanket. It’sthe first thing that came to mind that might keep him here a few minuteslonger. I take a deep breath of the cooling night air, hoping to calm howcrazily my heart is beating.

He freezes, turns, and walks over to where I sit on theblanket.

“You know my name,” he says, sliding his hands into hispockets. “It’s Nazareth. Naz.”

“Yeah, but some of the guys called you Armstrong and somesaid Strongarm.” I slant a curious glance up at him.“Which is it?”

“That’s kind of a long story.” That mouth God took extratime with pushes into a one-sided grin.

“Your name is a long story?”

“Well, the story behind why it’s both kind of is.”

Knowing Cliff will kill me first and then kill Naz for whatI’m about to do, I pat the blanket beside me anyway. “I got a few minutes.”

Then

Naz

I shouldn’t.

Fletcher has been very clear, on more than one occasion withmore than one guy on the team, that his sister is off-limits. Now I know why.

She glows.

In a world that feels gray, she’s a burst of color, and sheshines. Her smile makes a face that is already prettygorgeous. Her skin is richly brown and luminous. Two neat braids hang onher shoulders.

I glance toward the stairs that lead back into the house,but I already know I’ll accept Takira’s invitation. I do recognize her questionfor what it is—an excuse for me to stay. Any other girl tried this, I’d run in the other direction. Though I’m not thebiggest star on the team, there’s something about me that attracts girls now.It wasn’t always this way. I was the quiet, nerdy guy reading comic books onthe bus until seventh grade. My body took over—started filling out and growingup—fast. It got me noticed in ways I’d never been noticed before. I’m still notcompletely used to this body or the attention it brings.

“Never mind.” Takira looks down at her hands resting on thelong legs crisscrossed beneath her on the blanket. “Sorry. I know you have agame tomorrow.”

Wordlessly, I take the spot beside her, laying the jacketbetween us.

She gives me a tentative smile and draws her knees up to herchest, wrapping her arms around them.

“My last name is Armstrong,” I tell her. “But in middleschool, I started playing football. I got really good.I was a quarterback. Everybody said I had such a good toss, people startedcalling me Strongarm instead of Armstrong. Even though I play basketball now,it kinda stuck.”

“So if you were good at football, why come play a sportyou’re not as good at?”

I huff out a surprised laugh.

“Sorry,” she rushes to say, lowering her knees and turningto face me. “I just meant…well—”

“No, you’re right. I was better at football, but…” I gesturetoward the long stretch of my legs on the blanket. “Growth spurt, sophomoreyear. There are exceptions, but most quarterbacks aren’t six foot seven.”

“You couldn’t play football anymore?” she asks, frowning.

“Probably. Let’s just say recruiters weren’t banging downthe door for a guy built like me as their quarterback. I mean, I could probablytry some other position, but I always played basketball, too. Both coaches, basketball and football, sat me down and said if I reallywanted a shot at the pros for either sport, I might want to choose.”