Page 73 of Even Exchange

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“And that’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?” William Dickson, retired eight-time reigning Super Bowl champion and infamous running back, says while giving his annual speech during the welcome dinner. “I founded this camp to ensure the up-and-coming generations could spend time reconnecting with what they love about their sport. To push boundaries and come out stronger athletes by the end of it. I want you all to learn from your coaches and your peers, keep an open mind, and most importantly, have a damn good time!”

The room erupts in hoots and hollers, but I’m at the “adults” table, as Charlotte would say, where only polite claps are permitted, so I remain composed. My eyes find her across the room, and it kills me not being near, especially with the CBU tank top tight across her chest, pulling all of my attention there.

Unfortunately, I’m not the only one whose gaze she’s captured. Jonathan won’t stop staring, and I have garlic bread at the ready next time I catch him. I take a deep breath and release it slowly. He isnotworth wasting precious garlic bread. I bite off a delicious chunk and toss the other half on my plate, throwing dagger eyes instead. He inhales a fork full of salmon, and I gag. Just like the disgusting food, he leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

“Alright,” Dickson says, regaining my attention. “Everyone get some sleep. Practice starts nice and early tomorrow.”

The campers rush out of the room to do anythingbutsleep, and the commotion causes me to lose sight of Charlotte. I pull out my phone, hoping to catch her before she wanders off, or worse, Mr. Fuck Face finds her.

CHARLOTTE

Me

Where are you?

Charlotte

Where’s my fun fact?

Me

Fun fact, I had meatballs for dinner

I exit the building with the flow of the crowd, making it out into the humid summer air. The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a dim blue hue.

Charlotte

That’s not a fun fact, I was there when you made your plate

Groaning, I rack my brain, and the perfect idea pops in.

Me

Fun fact: when faced with the possibility of seeing my girlfriend’s ex, I will one hundred percent make him realize how hard he fumbled

Charlotte

Cute

A tap on my shoulder has me spinning around to see Charlotte’s teasing face.

“Your fun fact skills are lacking,” she tells me.

“You said it was cute,” I say, glancing behind her shoulder and spotting said ex. I reach up, slide a hand into her hair, and tug her toward me.

A giggle slips out of her. “What are you doing?”

“We have an audience,” I say, running my fingers through the dark strands. “Just showing him how hard he fumbled.”

“Oookay,” she says, eyes narrowed curiously.

“Fun fact.” My gaze roams her body. “You look hot as fuck tonight.”

Her eyebrows rise, cheeks reddening. “Well, that is definitely some shit a boyfriend would say.”

“It certainly is.”Because it’s the truth.“Do you need to get anything from your cabin before you come over?” I ask, my thumb selfishly grazing her jawline.

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