Page 22 of Game On

“This is David Russell,” Tessa explains. “We’re in English together. He’s on the football team. Wide Receptor.”

I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing. David just tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear and says, “Wide receiver. I don’t know whether I should take offense that you know nothing about football, or think it’s endearing.”

“Endearing,” I say without skipping a beat. Unlike me, Dawn’s TV was probably never stuck on sports stations. I often wondered if we even had access to other channels. “It just means you get to teach her all about it,” I tell him, trying to shake off my nerves. David doesn’t seem to give a shit who I am, but that doesn’t mean he won’t run if—who am I kidding, when—shit hits the fan.

“I might even listen,” Dawn says. David swoops in to give her a hug. Over his shoulder, Dawn slowly shakes her head at me.Not a fucking chance, she mouths. It’s clear David is just a hot body to her. Well, at least for now. Kind of like how Alec was.

“There you are, Tessa!” I turn to see Christie Fisher, the girls’ field hockey captain coming bouncing up to me. A guy with her same strawberry blond hair is right behind her. When he smiles, his teeth practically sparkle in the strobe lights bouncing off the walls.

“Um, hey,” I say. I look back to Dawn who just shrugs. Christie acts like we’re best friends, but I’ve literally only spoken to her once, and that was earlier today. The day I had comes crashing back to me, making me want to hide. Here we all are. Behind Christie and the guy who stopped right beside her are all the smug little assholes who thought it would be funny to ask me out today when they didn’t really mean it. I know it was all Ryan’s idea. His little play after meeting me in the stairwell. He just wants me to see that no one likes me. No one would even think it.

“This is my brother,” Christie says. She points at him, her lips sparkling with lip gloss.

Her brother holds his hand out. “Chase,” he says.

I shake his hand. His envelops mine. We shake for too long, so before it gets awkward, I just pull it away.

“He’s in college,” she says. “Freshman. I let him be my date for tonight.”

Chase rolls his eyes. “That’s because you don’t want Mom to know who you really want to be your date for tonight.”

She flares her eyes at him until I’m giggling at their exchange. I often wanted a sibling, but since my mother had such a hard time having me, I knew it would never happen. Without answering him, she strolls up to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. She leans over and whispers, “I also brought him because I thought you could use someone to be around tonight. I heard what happened…about guys asking you to the dance as a joke? It’s so cruel,” she says with pure sadness in her exchange. “My brother’s a good guy. I promise. He wouldn’t hurt a thing.”

A pity date? I want to crawl inside a hole and never come back out again. I’m almost horrified except when Christie steps back, Chase is actually checking me out.

“You two get to know each other,” Christie coos. Then, she spots someone else and runs off.

This doesn’t seem to shock Chase. I wonder if he knows the real reason why he’s here. To entertain me, the social pariah at RHS. Chase doesn’t even look after his sister, he just steps forward. “I have to get this off my chest. Full disclosure. Huge fan of your dad’s. Used to watch him on TV when I was a kid, then realized I have exactly zero talent for basketball. You can ask my youth coaches. I was so terrible. I’m pretty sure they still have a picture up of me in their offices with a huge red ‘x’ over my face. I was truly that bad.”

I’m used to people telling me they’re a fan of my father’s, but they usually just go on and on about him. Chase doesn’t do that. “You couldn’t be that bad,” I say, starting to smile now. The feel of the pity date is wearing off. Dawn and David walk toward the snack tables. She gives me a thumbs up, but I turn my attention back toward Chase.

“Oh yes, I was. Believe me. It’s okay, I’m not a total sports reject. I found my niche in lacrosse.”

“Yeah?”

His eyes flash. Before he even says his next words, I know that he truly loves the sport. “I play in college.”

I bite my lip. Chase is doing exactly what I want to be doing. “That’s awesome,” I tell him.

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I can tell he wears his status like a badge of honor. “Enough about me. You.” He shakes his head incredulously. “Christie tells me you signed your name on Sign-Up Day...”

I laugh, embarrassment creeping up my cheeks. “I did,” I tell him. I don’t know why, but I search behind Chase for the Ballers. They’re in the middle of the dance floor, girls grinding up on them while they take liberties with their bodies. I look away, my stomach flipping.

“Your dad must be so proud,” Chase says.

I scrutinize him, but as far as I can tell, there’s nothing but a genuine look in his eyes. Looking down at the floor, I let his last comment slink away. I haven’t known him long enough to let all my secrets spill, especially the part where I’m not sure my dad even cares that I signed up to be a Warrior.

“I’d love to play with you sometime.” He winks. “You know, just so you can make me feel completely inept.”

I laugh at that. “Well, then it would only be fair that we play lacrosse, too. I’m not sure I know how to handle a ball that’s only this big.” I make a small circle with my hands for show.

Chase and I talk for a while longer. He leans against the bleachers, and I lean right next to him. Dawn and David drop us off cups of punch and then head out to the dance floor. I see Christie dancing close with a guy. He has dark hair, dark features. He almost seems like the exact opposite of her.

Chase shakes his head and looks away. “I swear my sister loves barking up the wrong tree.” His brows furrow. “Why do girls always like the bad boys again? She’s tried explaining it to me before, but I’m flummoxed.”

The fuck if I know. But when I look at Chase, I realize he actually wants an answer. “Um, is ‘I don’t know’ an acceptable answer?”

He looks down and laughs. “I guess. I was really hoping you’d be able to answer for all womankind, but thanks for dropping the ball.”