Page 19 of Even Exchange

“What would even possess you to make a rule like that?” she asks, ignoring my clarification.

There’s an array of reasons that prompted the rule, but I opt for the simplest explanation. “Getting dumped right before the most important game of my high school football career.”

Her mouth falls open. “Hold up.” She sits up, watching as I place my ironclad plan safely back in my case. “Yougot dumped?” Her eyes are wide, and I’m amused by her surprised reaction. “Mr. Perfectgot dumped?”

“Shocking, I know,” I say with a laugh.

“Daaaamn,” she says, hitting me with a playful fist. “Mr. Perfect’s got secrets.”She has no idea.“Give me the story. I’ve earned it for wingwomaning you earlier.”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes, choosing not to point out the wingwomaning was highly unnecessary. “Senior year of high school, my team made the state championships. It was a huge game for me. Tons of college coaches came to see me play. Even Coach Porter was there.” I blow out a breath. “Half the school stayed at a hotel the night before, and my girlfriend asked me to come to her room. I thought we were gonna hook up, but she dumped me instead.”

Charlotte cringes. “That’s terrible.”

“Yep.” I huff a laugh. “I wasn’t in love with her or anything. We’d only been dating a few months, but it messed with my head so much that the game was almost a disaster. Luckily, I was able to pull my head out of my ass and ended up impressing Coach Porter enough to recruit me.”

She eyes me curiously. “Do you miss her?”

“Nah.” I shake my head, and it’s the truth. “But the situation showed me how much a relationship can affect your focus, and I don’t want the distraction. Especially during season.”

“Hence the rule,” Charlotte says with a small smile.

“Hence the rule.”

“I mean, I can understand while you’re trying to get drafted, but once you’re actuallyinthe NFL… would it really be so bad to be in a relationship?”

I shrug. “It’s not in the plan.”

She laughs, a sweet, infectious sound. “You know that thing isn’t written in stone, right?”

“Yes.” I pinch her side, and she yelps. “But it’s worked for me so far.”

“Well, I hope Ms. Perfect comes around and fucks up your plan like Jonathan did to mine.” Her shoulders sink, the storm cloud returning overhead. “Well, maybe not thesameway. Hopefully yours will be for the better.”

I slide off the bed, make my way to the mini fridge, pull two pints of ice cream out of the tiny freezer compartment, and grab the plastic spoons from the dresser.

“Look at you, coming in clutch with the Rocky Road.” She laughs, making grabby hands as I return to the bed, and I swat her away.

“When I was in high school, my stepdad would take me to get milkshakes after a loss. He’d tell me the sweetest things come after the shittiest moments.” I hand her a spoon and pint. “It’s not a milkshake, but it’s the next best thing.” When I play away games, I always go to the closest convenience store and grab a pint. Now the habit’s so hard to break, I couldn’t stop myself from buying some at the store earlier.

“That’s sosweet,” she teases as I remove the top of the ice cream and pull off the plastic film. I raise my spoon in mock cheers, and she grins, clinking the plastic against mine.

“To fucking up the five-year plan?”

“To fucking up the five-year plan.”

IT:Santo cielo.- EN: Holy sky.

4

CHARLOTTE

Lavish mansions fly by, and familiar clusters of shrubbery line the streets, a stark reminder I’m nearing a place that still doesn’t feel like home. As I pull into the lengthy driveway, my eyes wander over the estate’s dark brickwork, a fitting representation of its haunting history. Hallways that once held childhood memories now echo ominous whispers from my grandmother who died there. I keep waiting for her ghost to shush me for stepping too loudly down the opulent winding staircase.

“Bensons mustn’t stomp. We glide.”

As my car rolls to a stop, my mother exits the front door, strolling towards her SUV. She’s perfectly put together, like always. A black leather Chanel tote is flung over her shoulder—inherited from my grandmother, like the Benson estate and everything else inside it.

Placing my hand on the gear shift, I put my car in park and swallow down the anxiety that always buzzes through me when she’s around.

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