Page 6 of Quarterback Crush
“But Savannah was coming and you wanted to make her jealous?” The words spouted from my mouth because no matter that I’d been in some fantasy realm mere minutes ago, my brain still functioned and common sense prevailed.
“Not jealous...over,” Oliver admitted with a sheepish grin. “But here’s the favor I was about to ask.”
My brow furrowed in suspicion as I envisioned he’d want a photo of the two of us for a social media post, just to reiterate to Savannah that he’d moved on. Because that’s what he’d said to her:I’m moving on.
“Fake date me?”
I rubbed my ears, sure I had misheard. It made absolutely no sense. Oliver Blackwell was the quarterback and could date anygirl he wanted—for real.“Fake date you?”My voice rose like I was auditioning for a soprano role.
“Yeah.” Oliver slumped back against the chair. “I can’t deal with Sav anymore. Just say you’ll date me. Please. It’ll keep her off of my back.”
My heart rate picked up again, beating frantically as I tried to grasp what this meant. “Why me?” I rasped out with a croaky throat.
“Why not?” he said with a smirk.
Okay, now my heart went into manic palpitations and I could only stutter, “Y...y...you...you don’t even know me.”
“Relax,” Oliver said, taking my hand in his and squeezing it lightly. “We’ll get to know one another then.”
I swallowed tightly, airways restricting, lungs fighting for oxygen.
“What’s your number?” he asked as he let go of my hand and pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.
Presuming he wouldn’t know how to spell my name, I said, “M A Y A,” in slow, precise disbelief.
Oliver pushed back his chair and stood like it was mission accomplished. “Okay, thanks M A Y A,” he joked. “You’ll hear from me soon.”
I tried to say, “Okay,” but no sound came out, just a choked sigh. My mind was now a chaotic mess, everything happening too fast, and I couldn’t understand what I’d agreed to, how I was involved in some scheme to show Savannah Adlam she was now obsolete.
Right as I was sure he was going to bolt away, he stopped and bent down, dropping a kiss on my forehead. If I wasn’t already sitting, I would have fallen over.
“You still have my Owls flag, right?” he asked with a wink.
I stared back, eyes large and wide, shocked that Oliver Blackwell did indeed remember me.
Chapter 4
OLIVER
Kissing Maya Shelton happened with such ease and spontaneity that I emerged from the library and made my way to the locker room wondering if it had been a dream.
But Maya’s number was in my phone and that was indeed proof that it had been real.
It had been a tense day of avoiding Savannah—sitting on opposite sides of the room in the two classes we shared, going out for pizza with the boys at lunch break, andvoluntarilygoing into the school library just so I wouldn’t see her around.
Ironically, it was Mrs. Shelton, my English teacher and Maya’s mother, who gave me a list of study books I should check out. Mrs. Shelton had been particularly discreet, indicating with a nod that I should approach her desk on my way out of English class. I inwardly cringed, knowing my last assignment had been basic, to say the least. There wasn’t a lot of time to study, not with training, gym work, more training, and up until Friday night, spending time with my girlfriend. Now, one of those would no longer be an excuse.
Mrs. Shelton’s smile had been tight and strained. She’d always been generous in allowing me extra time for homework or giving me a chance to redo less than adequate work. English had never been my strong subject, the creative side of my brain always in a fog. I’d never been able to write stories about pirates and lost treasure or flying dragons, or aliens that transformedinto household appliances. And I couldn’t see the point in poems or understand why we needed to read essays written back in 19th century England. I could write about throwing the football to my wide receiver and scoring a touchdown and give a detailed summary of game stats and that was about it.
“Good win against Lincoln,” Mrs. Shelton said.
“Thanks,” I said, aware kids were filing past. “Yeah, it was. Bring on the quarterfinal.”
Mrs. Shelton smiled and waved a piece of paper in her hand, her voice dropping. “I’ve listed a couple of books. Check them out in the library. I think they’ll help with your grade...” She paused and smiled. “Why don’t you go there now?”
“I appreciate it,” I mumbled, my gratitude not specifically for the list of study guides but because she was quietly giving me a second chance. Not wanting to let her down, I zoomed to the library, knowing I’d be cutting it fine with training, but I could do it.
Not being overly familiar with the library layout, I stopped at the desk to ask the librarian where I’d find them. I would have managed with a quick direction to the back, but as Ms. Feng was writing down the exact row and shelf position of each book I could see Savannah making her way to the door which was bizarre in itself because Savannah wasn’t known for hanging out at the library. It had to mean she’d followed me.
