Page 47 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

PRETTY GIRL

Tommy

“Please tell me you brought something good, or I’m going to eat the dashboard.” I groan as I lean back in the leather seat, looking past him at the seriously beautiful brunette who leans toward the blonde as they lean in to share a pair of headphones.

Lucas chuckles and grabs the cooler from the backseat. “Moms on the wagon. Let’s see what she packed.”

He tosses me a baggy with two hard-boiled eggs and some strips of beef. “Thank you, sober Katie.”

Shoving an egg in my mouth, I hear Brooks, “Four damn hours.”

“You get to sleep in tomorrow.” Ross spins it to the positive.

“Afternoon practice again.” He leans against the truck. “Wonder if our new captain has to get his bush waxed in the morning or some shit.”

I crack my window. “Wax gets messy, huh, Links?”

Brooks lifts his chin. “You shave his balls instead?”

“Just that one time. He won’t let me get within ten inches anymore. Huh, big guy?” I elbow Lucas.

“Don’t give them rumors to spread already.” Links grumbles.

“You really think we’re going to sit around, talking about you?” Brooks huffs.

Lucas rolls the window down further. “Prove us wrong, Brooks.”

Alex chuckles as the rest of the guys surround us. “Hit the pond?”

“We’d love to,” I answer before Lucas says no, or worse.

I don’t bother looking at him; in fact, I avoid eye contact completely until they pull away.

Then I turn and smile, “We got an invite to a pond party.”

“There’s a pool ten miles from here, and —”

“We’re bonding with our team, Links.”

He throws the vehicle in drive, and I reach for the radio. He smacks my hand away. “No more fucking country.”

“You’re in farm country now, Links. Adapt or die.”

“I’d rather die.”

I grin and start singing anyway, loud and intentionally terrible. “Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots⁠—”

“Oh my God.” Lucas groans, pulling onto Main Street.

“—and ruined your black tie affaaaair…”

A couple of old guys sitting outside the corner diner actually laugh as we pass. One lifts his coffee cup at me like I’m putting on a private concert.

“See?” I point out the window. “The people love me.”

“The people are mocking you.”

Blue Valley isn’t much. Four blocks of old brick buildings, porches sagging from a hundred winters, and one four-way stop sign, not even a blinking red light. But football season’s taken over the place completely.