Page 16 of Sweat

That hollowness inside me Rowan has been filling with training sessions opens up again.

“Hey,” the girl beside Thalia says to me. It’s the first time she’s spoken, and she sends me a little smile to go with the greeting.

“‘Sup?”

That gets Rowan’s attention enough for him to remember I exist. He introduces me to Thalia and her friend, Eve.

“What are you two doing?” Thalia asks Rowan. “Working out?”

“Trying to get him in shape,” Rowan answers.

My face heats. Doesn’t help that Eve’s eyeing me like I’m a hot fudge sundae. Unlike Rowan’s stare, Eve wears her intentions on her sleeve, nearly chomping at the bit.

“He looks in pretty good shape to me,” Eve purrs.

“You should see the gruel he just barfed up.”

“Well, they don’t call ‘em burpees for no reason,” I say, sending Eve a wink that makes her suntanned face go pink. I know how to flirt with girls. Just never like doing it. I did it for Lese, because I cared about her for real for a long time, and I knew how badly she wanted to be with me.

For a split second, I’m thinking about Lese and Anthony at the same time. But when Rowan’s incomprehensible stare is on me again, all I’m thinking about is him.

“Wait,” Thalia says with a snap of her fingers in my direction. “Tommy? This is the guy who gave you the black eye?”

“It was nothing,” Rowan mutters.

Shit…If Rowan is dating Thalia, does she know about him hooking up with Lese? This would be the perfect opportunity for revenge, but I’m not that spiteful. I’m not spiteful at all, really. Just jealous.

“It was a misunderstanding,” I say. “We’re cool now. He even has cute little nicknames for me. Calls me babyface.”

“Oh, fuck!” Eve swoons. “You totally do have a baby face!”

I frown while Rowan quirks one of those sneaky smirks that’s gone in a flash.

Eve asks if I have Instagram, and I feel too put on the spot to lie. I let her add me, but my profile is public, anyway. Not much to hide except the shit that stays in my head like an airtight seal.

“I’ll see you around.” Rowan gives Thalia another one-armer before turning around and heading back to where we left our bags in the grass.

Following close, I channel all my uncomfy feelings into a question that comes out awkward as hell. “That your girlfriend?”

The look Rowan pays me shrinks me down to pea-sized. Wish I could learn to just shut my mouth. Surprisingly, he actually answers.

“No. Connor Whitlock’s girlfriend. We went to high school together.”

“Oh.” The relief I feel is tantamount to euphoria. “Do you, uh, have a girlfriend?”

The more I talk, the more I hate myself. Rowan crouches at his bag and pulls out a flipbook and pen. “No girlfriend, babyface. Here.” He hands over the notebook and pen. “Write down everything you’ve eaten the past seven days. Every Dorito, every jelly bean, every fingernail. Got it?”

No girlfriend? Got it. I grin as I toss the notepad and pen back onto his bag. “I’m not dieting. I drink the protein shakes, and I eat my veggies. No Doritos. Sometimes jelly beans, but only the Trolli ones. They call ‘em Sour Brite Eggs. You ever try ‘em?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Dude, you’re missing out.”

“I doubt that.” He finds a shirt in his bag next and pulls it on before standing. “You remember McKinley Park?”

“The park where I punched you in the face?”

Rowan exhales a short chuckle, like it’s all water under the bridge. “We’re doing another pickup match tomorrow. Meet there instead of here. Same time.”

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