Page 17 of Quarterback Crush
“Yep. Good. I sent it to you last night,” I said.
Mrs. Shelton’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Did you? I haven’t checked yet.”
“Well, with the game on Friday, I wanted to make sure I was up to date on all my schoolwork. You know, no distractions for the quarterfinal.”
Mrs. Shelton’s face lit up. “Well, good for you, Oliver. We’ll certainly all be cheering for the Owls.”
“Thank you, ma’am. The team appreciates it,” I said somewhat smugly.I excused myself with a profusion of politeness, sensing I’d won Mrs. Shelton over and was now in her good books. Maybe things really were turning around for me. For the first time in ages, I felt light and free as if I’d been unchained from my shackles.
I’m not sure when the weight of expectation had taken over my life. Maybe it was since being named Player of the Year for the Western Conference last year—a title that was an honor, but came with a whole truckload of pressure. Or it could have been the whole #Olivannah hashtag going viral. No longer could we take a random selfie and post it online, no, Savannah insisted on photoshopping my wayward hair, frown lines, bruises and blemishes, like anybody actually cared. She’d even started dressing me—yep, telling me what to wear. My favorite Green Bay Packers jersey, gray sweatpants, slides and socks and a host of other clothes had been deemed not suitable to be worn in public.
I scanned the cafeteria with a spring in my step, my eyes targeting only one person. I zoned in on Maya sitting at one of the round junior tables, surrounded by a bunch of friends.
A girl wearing a pink beanie saw me first, nudging Evie, Toby’s kid sister, and the next thing the whole table had turned in my direction, wide eyed and giggly. I slowed, wondering if I was being too brazen. Already Maya had been a good sport about fake dating me, but was I being too intrusive—barging in on her friend group? But it was too late. I was steps away from her table.
“Hey, Maya,” I said, smiling as her cheeks flushed pink.
“Hi. Oliver.” Her reply was stilted. Not exactly pleased to see me.
“Uh, have you got a minute?”
“A minute?” Her gaze flitted to each of the girls as if seeking their permission.
“Yeah, a minute.”
Prodded by the two girls either side, she stood and I reached out and pulled her away from the table. She whispered, “Is everything okay? Have you changed your mind?”
I frowned. “Changed my mind? About what?”
“The date. On Saturday?”
“No. No way. I just wondered if you wanted a ride home after practice. And maybe decide what we want to do on Saturday night.”
“Oh. Okay,” she said, her lips twitching in an adorable way. “Sure. Sounds good.”
“Cool,” I said, my heart fluttering in my chest like a caged animal looking to escape.
“Cool,” she repeated, but her eyes wandered around the room.
“Is it okay if I kiss you?” I murmured, the question bursting from my mouth unrehearsed. “Just on your forehead.”
Maya looked up at me, tilting her neck as she whispered. “I don’t think Savannah’s here today. I think she’s sick again.”
It wasn’t what I wanted to hear—the mention of my ex’s name, but kissing Maya was all I wanted to do. The distance between us was already unbearable and I brought my lips down to brush against her warm skin. Well, brush was the intention, but it was as if I’d been superglued to her.
“Ol—lie?” Maya’s voice lilted after a few seconds and I reluctantly removed my lips from her skin.
And I grinned. “That felt good,” I said.
Maya nodded but her expression was uncertain, causing me to look over my shoulder. Mrs. Harkness, a math teacher was gawking our way. “She might tell Mom,” Maya said through gritted teeth.
“Okay,” I said, “catch you later.”
It’s like I bounced through the next few classes with an air of invincibility, which was definitely weird because schoolwork was not my favorite thing. But the anticipation of meeting Maya after training somehow had me floating in the clouds. And that was something totally unexpected.
And new.
Because I couldn’t remember a time when I was ever this excited to meet up with Savannah. Oh, maybe our very first date back in sophomore year after we’d started hanging out in the same friend group, but in recent months the relationship had become more of a chore than anything. Just going through the motions, showing up, putting on an act.
