Page 17 of Anatomy of a Player

She nodded and then wandered away, but instead of taking up her speed-walking, she moved slowly and looked a bit lost.Oops. I think I messed up her concentration. Maybe even her entire afternoon.

I spotted a tall, bespectacled guy and spun around to grab his attention—I wanted to have as wide a demographic as possible. “Excuse me, could I ask—”

He shook his head and walked on. I blew out a breath.That’s okay. You can’t get me down.

Now, to just figure out which student to stop next.

Chapter Twelve

Hudson

On my way into the library, I spotted Reporter Girl herself. She had a yellow legal pad under her arm, and she spun in a slow circle, glancing from passerby to passerby. She lifted an arm as if to wave one of them down, hesitated, then slowly dropped it.

I eyed the door to the library—where I really needed to go in order to not be late—then at her again.I can spare five minutes to lay some groundwork.

That challenge-fueled excitement I experienced around her zinged through my veins as I strolled over. She spun at the sound of my approach, and her eyes widened for a second before a stern, no-nonsense expression took shape. “Surprised to see you near a library on a Saturday,” she said.

“I’m not surprised at all that you spend your Saturdays here.”

The haughty tilt of her head kicked up a notch.Don’t laugh, don’t laugh.It was almost too easy to get a rise out of her, but I needed to break through her barriers, not make her erect even more. I poked her arm and shot her a smile. “I’m only teasing. It’s a nice surprise.”

She pressed her lips together, her eyes narrowing.

“Come on, Reporter Girl. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other this season. Can’t we try to be friends?”

“Friends know each other’s names.” A syrupy-sweet smile spread across her face.

“Fair enough,Whitney.”

Surprise flickered through her eyes. The glasses gave her that hot librarian vibe, but the reflection of the locker room’s lights had hidden the different blues swirling through her irises. I got a little lost in them for a moment, then remembered I’d been trying to convince her to be friends.

“Yeah, I remember your name. That makes us halfway there, right?”

“Halfway sounds right. Since…” She grimaced. “I’m totally blanking. All I remember is that you’re number fourteen.”

Now I was the one narrowing my eyes, trying to read if she genuinely couldn’t remember my name or number—not that I was deterred either way. “Ouch. I’d suggest learning the hockey players’ names if you’re going to be covering the games. Or are you one of those girls who only claim to know about hockey?”

“I know hockey,” she insisted. “I’ve been watching it for years, and I’m fully qualified for my job, thank you very much.”

I sensed movement behind me, and Whitney’soh-shitexpression made me wonder who in the world it could be. But when I spun, it was just an unassuming girl with a boy haircut.

“I forgot to add something,” she said. “They also think that they can ask me for notes and I’ll just give them to them, because they can’t possibly be bothered to come to their classes. They think I’m desperate for attention, but the joke’s on them, because I give them wrong answers every time. They’re too stupid to even know it.”

I glanced from the girl to Whitney and raised my eyebrows, silently asking what that was all about. A nervous laugh sputtered from Whitney’s lips, and she stepped forward and put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Could you give me just a second to finish up here? I want to keep the answers confidential, so I’ll meet you…” She looked around and muttered about how the Tree of Life sculpture was a bit far.

“How about that bench over there?” Whitney pointed. “Then I can add to your answers and keep everything more organized.” There was a panicked edge to her words, and she nearly pushed the girl away from us.

Boy Haircut glanced over her shoulder at me, scowled like I’d ruined her life, and then strode toward the bench.

“What was that?” I asked. “She’s all fired up.”

Whitney reached up the way girls did when they brushed their hair out of their face, only hers was all pulled up in that ever-present bun. I wondered if she ever let it down. One day, I was going to liberate the blond strands and run my fingers through them.

“It’s… It’s nothing. I mean, it’s…confidential. So I better go talk to her. I’ll see you later…?” She pointed at me, like she really needed me to fill in the blank.

“Hudson,” I said. “And it’s number nineteen—I’d hate for you to get it wrong in your column.” I was going to stick to killing her with kindness, even if she was going to play games. In fact, that’d make it all the more fun. Another wave of excitement hit, washing away everything else.Bring it, blondie.

“Right. I’ll make sure to remember that—it’s just that I’ve been covering football, too, and those guys really stick out in my mind, you know?”

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