Page 20 of The Heartbreak Blitz

Reid: Cade: Hey girl. *flicks non-existent hair* You liked having my body all over you, didn’t you?

Reid: Girl: Actually, it kind of hurt, and why are you doing that thing with your neck? Do you need assistance?

Reid: Cade: *rubbing his six-pack* You know how it is. So, since part of me has already been on you, maybe we should make it official and go on a date?

Reid: … (person is typing)

Me: Wow. You’re still going. Okay. I didn’t know my best friend turned into Shakespeare.

Briar: He’s avoiding studying game plays.

Reid: Girl: Sorry, I don’t date guys who physically attack women, and seriously, are you sure you’re okay? Do you have a stomachache? A twitch and a stomachache? I’m worried about your health.

Reid: Cade: *flashes his signature cocky smile that he thinks makes girls cream their panties* Well, I?—

Reid: Girl: *walks away because she’s scared she might catch whatever he has*

Reid: Yeah, bro, she’s really cold for no reason.

…

…

Lex: HAHAHA. Why does this sound so accurate?

Me: Oh, you’re done now?

Briar: That was actually quite good. Maybe after you retire from being the best quarterback in NFL history, you can write books!

Reid: Sounds like you only want my money. Keep me working.

Briar: No, there’s something else I want more.

Lex: Oh, here we go. Have a good game tomorrow, Cade. I’m sure that girl is cold to everyone. You two, I’d say Reid should study his playbook, but you’re probably not going to respond anyway.

Me: Yeah, they’re gone. Night, dude.

Lex: Night.

I smile at my phone, shaking my head. I re-read the texts Reid sent with his little story. I don’t do that. Rub my six-pack. Please.

I still, my free hand on my stomach.Shit.

Tugging my shirt down, I toss my bag onto the desk and fall back onto the mattress. It creaks, depressing under my weight. A flat TV is directly across from the bed, flanked by two plain wall sconces. Above my head, the same two sconces are affixed justabove the nightstands, and between them, an abstract painting made from pastel watercolors.

All hotel rooms start to look the same during the season, but I don’t take it for granted that I’m one of the lucky ones that get my own room. Being a fifth-year senior comes with its perks.

A knock sounds on the door. I pull myself off the bed, noting the tile floor as I walk to the other side of the room. Peering through the peephole, I close my hand around the door even tighter when I see who it is. Charley Heywood.

Well, this is interesting.

I pull the heavy dark wood door open and smirk, but it quickly falls off my face when she peers up at me, unshed tears in her eyes. “I need your help.”

8

Charley

Before Cade offers to help, I push past him. This is not a conversation to be had out in the hallway where anyone could hear. Tugging my shaking hands through my hair, I start to pace.

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