Page 3 of The Band Geek

I shake my head vehemently, closing the notebook and pretending the fact that his phone number is sitting between the pages doesn't mean anything to me.

“Trust me, we’re group partners, and that's it. There will never be anything more than this project between us.” I try to sound confident, but I think it might be a little more defensive than anything because Corinne doesn't seem to believe me. “Besides, I can't stand jocks. I'd rather die alone with 100 cats than even consider going on a date with one.”

“That seems a little extreme,” she says with a laugh, nervously looking down in embarrassment as she catches the attention of other students in the room. “Seems like you have somewhat of a vendetta against them.”

“Haven't got to implies I'm trying to get revenge, doesn't it?” I shake my head, trying to appear more casual about my searing hatred. “I just prefer to stay away from them. People like that have screwed me over in the past, and I don't want it to happen again.”

“Rowan Peebles, do you have some drama you haven't told me about?” Corinne asks, inhaling sharply as she leans on her elbows to hear the story.

I haven't told anybody about what happened in high school. It happened in the past, and ever since I started college, I've decided to turn a new leaf. I don't want to linger in the embarrassing things that happened last year, but Corinne is my best friend here. If anybody is to know about this, it's her.

“Toward the end of senior year, someone on the football team asked me on a date,” I reluctantly begin, cringing to myself before I even get to the bad part. “His name was Tyler and I had a bit of a crush on him, so I was elated. I even thought that if things went well, we might go to prom together. It turns out that he and a bunch of other people on the team had made a bet. Everyone threw a hundred dollars in a pool, and whoever took one of the band geeks' virginity first won all the money.”

Her mouth hangs open as she gasps and stares at me with wide eyes. “That's disgusting. Please tell me you didn't sleep with him and instead broke his nose.”

“Thankfully, I didn't sleep with him. I was actually planning on it the next time we went out because I thought I liked him. I believed he liked me too. He called the night before and canceled the date. I asked why, and surprisingly, he told me the truth.” I practically shiver against the memory of that night.

I was in my room frantically looking through my underwear drawer to find something sexy for him. I had just picked out what I was going to wear when he called and canceled. I cried until dawn. Never in my life had I experienced something so cruel, and I was heartbroken.

Ever since, I've sworn to myself that I won't trust people like that anymore. So yes, I can admit that Sawyer is cute and a part of me is interested in possibly getting to know him intimately, but I've made a vow to myself not to. I won't get hurt again.

THREE

Thursday afternoon practice is more difficult than usual. Coach Emerson goes over our plays, and I do everything I can to internalize what I'm supposed to do before we begin a run-through. My eyes wander to the sidelines, and I struggle to get my head in the game.

I never cared to pay attention to the band geeks on the sideline practicing on the field. Honestly, in the past, the off-key horns blaring and drums beating during their practice was a bit of a nuisance. Now my eyes search through the crowd of people for Rowan.

“Jackson, do you need me to bench you tomorrow?” Coach Emerson shouts after blowing a whistle to end our first run-through of the game plan. He storms across the field with his hands on his hips as he glares at me.

“No, sir,” I shout back, shaking my head and forcing myself to focus.

“Everybody from the starting position, now!” he shouts, forcing several of my fellow teammates to groan and stare at me. I take my helmet off momentarily and comb back my hair, feeling the sweat dripping from my brow.

I can't lose focus right now. This is our final practice before our big game tomorrow. If I let the team down, I'll never forgive myself. My entire life has been dedicated to football, and I don't want to fail.

“Come on, Sawyer,” Talon says as he slaps me on the back. “We don't want a repeat of what happened against Glendale, do we?”

I shake my head and laugh under my breath, rolling my eyes at the idea of him blaming me for those absolute brutes destroying us. “So now it's my fault their coach feeds them steroids for breakfast?”

All of us get in position for another run-through of our plan. Coach blows the whistle, and we begin. Talon and I take off in two separate directions. He runs to get the ball, and I position myself far away from him, knowing that his arm is strong enough to reach me. I brace myself for the ball, and as soon as it goes flying in the air, I run to catch it. It slides into my hands as if a magnet had pulled it directly toward me.

After, I run downfield with it my hands, turning my attention to the goalpost. Normally, I would be laser-focused on where I need to go, but the band members are wrapping up and moving toward the bleachers. My eyes fall on Rowan as she laughs with another one of the band members, tucking her hair behind her ear and smiling.

My legs keep moving, and I know where I'm going, but I'm not exactly looking forward. Out of nowhere, or at least it wouldn't have been if I was looking where I was supposed to, Gerard Ronson slams into me and sends me flying through the air. I crash into the ground hard, lying still for a moment with the ball falling out of my hands.

The wind is knocked out of me, and it feels like I ran directly into a brick wall. I don't register Gerard picking up the ball and throwing it across the field as I lie there trying to remember who I am, what's going on, and what century I'm in.

After a moment, the whistle sounds, and everybody halts before Coach Emerson runs across the field to check on me. Gerard joins him and takes his helmet off with an apologetic look on his face. Gerard looks like he was born to be a linebacker, and he is incredible at what he does. I'm thankful I don't usually have to be on the receiving end of it.

“You good, Jackson?” Coach asks, disappointment in his voice.

Everyone else from the team, as well as the cheerleaders who have been practicing on the sidelines, gathers around to make sure I'm okay. All of them look concerned, and I'm almost embarrassed. Gerard did what he was supposed to do, and he did a damn good job. If I had been paying close enough attention, I could have at least gotten out of the way so I didn't have to have two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle colliding right into me.

I roll over slowly to my side, trying to ease my muscles into being ready to stand. Once again, my eyes lock on Rowan as she prepares to leave. Everyone else around me is nervous, not only worrying about me but wondering if this unintentional injury is enough to take their wide receiver out of the game. On the other hand, Rowan is smirking like she's happy to see me on the ground in pain.

“I'm fine. It just knocked the wind out of me,” I say, standing up and waving everyone off.

Gerard offers me a handshake, and I take it, flinching at the strength of his grip. I think the world is lucky he's actually a very sweet guy. A man like him with anger issues would be a problem for everyone.

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