Page 15 of The Midseason Fakeout

“Very,” she says, nodding.

I guess I don’t actually know Bailey well at all. She and Darrin seem to have had a different upbringing by the same parents, which doesn’t make any sense to me at all. “Well, I will make sure this is the best friend get-together you’ve ever had.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just take a shower or something. You’re sweaty.”

At this point, I’m the last guy in the locker room. My teammates are probably already discussing where we’re going. I wipe at my forehead, drying my fingers on the hem of my practice jersey. “Since you asked so nicely…” I tread backward, almost disappearing inside before I stick my head back out. “Meet us at the front of the building.”

“You now have ten minutes,” she says, tapping her wrist like she’s keeping time.

“Damn. Taskmaster.”

“Just get ready,” she demands, giving me a playful shove.

I laugh. Spinning and walking down the corridor that leads to the football locker room, I take in the sounds of my team. Everyone’s talking and ribbing on each other. In the back, the showerheads are turned on full blast. West is already freshly showered and at his locker when I walk up to open my own.

“Who’s that?” he asks, nodding toward the practice field.

I act coy. “Who?”

He gives me a look and lowers his voice. “The girl you were kissing.”

“Ohhh.”

The wary vibes West is giving off tells me this isn’t a talk to hit me up for information about Bailey. No, I promised them I was done with partying last night, so I can imagine what this looks like.

“It’s not like that,” I confide, moving closer. “She’s not a fling kind of thing.”

“So you’re serious with her?” he asks doubtfully.

More sweat gathers on my forehead, and I wipe it away. “Not exactly.” I can’t lie for shit, and West is West. He knows everything about me, so I might as well tell him what Bails and I are up to so he doesn’t think I’m already going back on my word. “That’s Bailey. Remember me telling you about my friend Darrin? That’s his sister.”

“Okay…”

I lower my voice. “We decided to pretend. To date,” I clarify. “If she’s my girlfriend, the other girls will steer clear, and she—” I clam up. It’s not up to me to tell West Bails’s business. “She has her reasons, too.” I clap him on the back and smile. “This is good news. I can completely focus on football moving forward.” He’s quiet, so I reach into my locker to grab my clothes and towel. I close the locker door to find him still staring at me worriedly. “Isn’t this a genius idea?”

His look says he thinks it’s a terrible idea actually. “I— No.”

“Don’t you see?” I tell him excitedly. “She’s like my jersey-chaser repellent. She’s going to be there, and they won’t be. Plus, there’s absolutely no chance of me getting serious with her.”

“You’re not attracted to her?”

A picture of her flits through my mind, and I am. I’m definitely attracted to her, but I’m not telling West that. I shrug to throw him off the scent. “She’s my best friend’s little sister.” I never thought about her that way before, so there’s no indication that I would act on being attracted to her now. “You don’t actually catch feelings for your best friend’s little sister.”

Nope, she’s just the perfect barrier I need between the outside world and my future goals.

“You didn’t kiss her like she was your best friend’s little sister.”

I sneak past him. “It’s called pretending, dude. Don’t you worry.” I walk backward so I can still look at him. “We meeting up anywhere?”

“Yeah, Richie’s.”

“Cool. Bailey’s coming.”

He gives me a wave so I know he’s heard me, and then I work my way to the back to take a shower. I probably only have five minutes left now, so I quickly wash up and change. They stick to me as I style my hair, grab my wallet out of the locker, and head out.

Some of my defensive teammates are having a meeting, so I wave as I exit out the front. When I get outside, I immediately look for Bailey and find her next to the parking lot, standing under a nearly bare tree. From this vantage point, I can say I definitely agree with her choice of outfit today. She looks normal. The way she fits in with the other girls here after only a day is crazy. No one would know that her family is stinking rich and that she’s basically been raised in a bubble.

She walks her fingers up the tree and tilts her head back to look up the trunk. The sun’s rays catch on her hair, casting it in a faint halo of gold. “Hey, Angel,” I greet her.

---