Page 18 of Coping Skills

“So we have another home game next weekend.”

“Cool.”

He chanced a glance at her, but she was looking at the bowl as she scooped up another spoonful of dough. “You should come.” Asking her to do things hadn’t worked out in his favor so far, so maybe if he told her what to do he might get somewhere. Worth a try, at least.

“Why?”

This time when he looked at her, her eyes bored into him like laser beams trying to burn a path through his skull. “It’d be fun. It’s homecoming. Did you even know that?”

She seemed to think for a second. “Yeah, I guess I did see something about that.” Shrug. “I’ve never cared about homecoming before, though. Why should I now?”

He mimicked her shrug, focusing his attention on scooping uniform balls of dough spaced apart evenly on all sides. “It’s your senior year. Part of the college experience, right?”

She snorted, and he looked up to find her caught between glaring at him and laughing. “Bring your roommates. And their friends if they’re around. The guys all used to play for us. I bet you’d all have fun.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she examined him for a minute. “And what do you get out of it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you want me there? What’s in it for you?”

He looked back at the cookie dough, scooping the final few balls onto the sheet and turning to place it in the oven. “Nothing, really. But if you wanted to hang out after, we could.”

“I don’t have to go to the game to do that.”

“True. But it’d be easier to meet up for the after-game party if you were at the game.”

When he turned back around she was still staring at him the same way she had been the last time he looked at her. She heaved out a sigh. “Fine. It seems like it’s important to you that I come to a game. So I’ll come. And I’ll make Hannah and Matt come with me, at least. They’ll probably invite the rest of their friends too. We’ll have our own little party during the game.”

He grinned at her deadpan tone. “Don’t sound so excited.”

She finally broke and gave him a smile. “I’m not big into football. And since my dad’s head injury …”

She trailed off, and he gave her a quizzical look. “What does your dad’s accident have to do with football?”

Shaking her head, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Nothing, really. Just that football players have a high risk of head injuries, too. I don’t like watching people bash their own heads in.”

A chuckle leaked out, but he bit it back when she glared at him for real. “I’m sorry. It’s not like that, I promise. It’s not like guys are getting clobbered over the head every game or anything. I mean, yeah, sometimes you get your bell rung, but it’s really not that big of a deal most of the time. You walk it off and keep playing.”

Her eyes still looked troubled, so he stepped closer to her, tipping her chin up so she would look at him. “You’ll have fun. I promise.”

“Okay.” Her answer was little more than a whisper, but it had his heart lifting with happiness. Maybe he was getting closer to making her his girl for real.

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