Page 20 of Offsides

Ellie squints one eye and stares into the middle distance, her face screwed up in thought. “Hmmm. Well, Simon’s not that dumb.”

I give her a doubtful look. “Or are you just too blinded by love to see it?”

Laughing, she lifts her mug in a toast. “Touché.” After taking another sip, she sets her mug in front of her and studies me again. “Is there a particular guy who’s being dumb right now?” Before I can do more than contemplate the idea of responding, she asks, “It’s Eli, isn’t it?” Her eyes sparkle. “Did something happen between you?”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Has Autumn been gossiping about me?”

Ellie’s mouth drops open in shock. “Autumn? She’s the farthest thing from a gossip.” Her gaze drops to her mug and she spins it around. “But she may have enlisted Piper’s and my help …”

“Help with what exactly.”

She waves a hand airily. “Oh you know, nothing big. But she mentioned that she suspected there was something between you and him”—she cuts her eyes to me—“something more than friendship, I mean, and that if we saw the opportunity to … help things along, we should take it.”

Sitting back in my chair, I let my hands fall to my lap. “And is that what this is? You ‘helping things along,’ as you put it?”

Ellie’s eyes go wide. “No! This is me being a concerned friend. You’re obviously upset about something. Sometimes it helps to talk it through and get some outside perspective.”

All I can do is hum noncommittally, not sure how I feel about Autumn apparently making me her new project. Last semester, Jackson was her project. And I know she credits herself with the success of all the relationships in our circle, or at least having a hand in helping them along.

Now she’s decided I’m the one who needs helping?

Standing, I take my mug to the sink. “I appreciate the offer, Ellie. I’ll keep it in mind if I decide I need someone to talk to.” And with that, I head back to my room. That seems like the safest place to be right now.

CHAPTER TEN

Eli

I let out a groan when I come into the kitchen to find Autumn sitting at the table, her eyes lighting up as I walk in.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” she says in a voice that’s far too chipper for my current mood.

“Oh god,” I mutter, and Jackson throws me a sympathetic smile before handing me a mug. “What do you want, Autumn?”

“I’m glad you asked, Eli,” and she sounds like she means every word. Sheisglad I asked. Because she’s impervious to my bad attitude and bad mood. “I want to help you.”

“And if I don’t want your help?”

I ask the question with my back turned, but she waits for me to turn and face her before she says, “Too bad.”

That makes me splutter out an unexpected laugh. “Too bad?”

She nods decisively. “Yes. Too bad. You clearly need my help, whether you want it or not.”

Despite myself, my curiosity is piqued. “Help with what, exactly?”

Autumn scoffs and throws her hands in the air. “With Dani, of course. I’m not sure exactly what you did last night, but it’s clear you royally fucked up. So you’re going to sit down”—she pats the table in front of the spot adjacent to her—“and fill me in on what happened last night, and then we’ll brainstorm a way for you to fix it.”

“And why would I do that?”

She rolls her eyes. “Because you’re in love with Dani and have been for years. And she clearly cares about you too. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been so upset by whatever happened last night. But, no offense, you don’t seem to have any clue what to do to move your relationship from where it’s been to where you want it to be. And all you seem to be capable of is blowing things up in your face.”

“And you think that you can make it so I stop doing that?”

Her eyes narrow, and she shifts her mouth to one side, cocking her head and looking me over. “I can’t make any guarantees, but I have a feeling I’m your best shot.”

“She’s right, you know,” Jackson chimes in from his spot propping up the counter next to me. “You definitely need help, and Autumn’s your best chance.”

“Why her, though?” I know it sounds bitchy to ask that, especially right in front of her.

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