Page 13 of Most Valuable Player
No response. He hung up on me, the bastard.
Thankfully, though, he doesn’t take that long. Just as I’m considering booking it home (that porch man is giving me shivers), Mason appears at his front door. He’s wrapped in a turtleneck, scarf, and beanie that blends with his midnight-black hair. All this combined with his skinny jeans makes it look like he’s trying to haul late autumn into town with sheer willpower. Is he trying to look as cute as possible to twist the knife into my wound of rejection?
Without a glance at his father, he jogs to my car, then tosses his bag into the back, nearly zipper-slapping me along the way. “Hello,” he says, a calm, vacant smile toying at his lips. His eyes are burned pink—from fatigue, maybe? “I’m flattered you were so excited to see me this morning that you came early.”
I hiss like a cat. Flattered? Excited? Forhim? “Just tell me where to go, water boy,” I snap.
“Annie’s Brews.”
I furrow my brows. “Annie’s who?”
His smile flips into a scolding frown. “Cameron Morelli, you uncultured swine.”
“Pardon the fuck?”
“Any coffee-drinking high schooler is lost without Annie,” he says, wagging his slender finger in my face. I resist gnashing my teeth at it. “I don’t know how you’ve survived this long.”
“Never had coffee,” I grumble. Mr.Gray eyes me through the windshield in this “I could charge your car at any moment” way, so I start backing out of the driveway. Until I catch Mason’s expression in my peripherals, twisted with dismay, his brown eyes shot with horror.
“You’ve never hadcoffee?” he demands.
I sigh, pulling onto the street and heading toward the subdivision exit. “Which way?”
“Left—but, okay, tea? Hot chocolate?”
“Not interested.”
Mason slumps down into his seat until the belt is notched under his chin. “You’re hopeless,” he says in quiet defeat.
Like I asked for his irrelevant opinion. I draw calming breaths, trying to remind myself of why I’m doing this. It’s for my football career. So I don’t have to be a benchwarmer by the time the scout shows up to examine Darius and me.
Mason gives a lofty sigh. “We’re just studying, Cameron,” he says wearily. “It’s not like I’m making you get your genitals waxed. You don’t have to be so clenched up.”
“I’m being forced to study with a snobby asshole who hates me, just so I can play football. It’sworsethan getting my balls waxed,” I mutter.
“I don’t hate you. I just find you rude and inappropriate.”
It’s like he wants me to eject him from the car. “If you can’t see my natural charm and charisma, that’s your problem.” I jut my chin higher, and despite my father’s warning voice in my ear, I say, “You should feel lucky. I could’ve offered myself to anyone else.”
Mason presses a palm over his mouth, like he’s concealing a smile. “But you deigned to choose a lowly peasant,” he says solemnly. “Why, pray tell, did you descend from your royal pedestal of perfection to offer yourself to a modest commoner such as me?”
I turn my music up to the max because I’m not dealing with this shit right now.
I continue along the road hugging Lake Evergreen, watching sunlight bounce off the rippling water, before pulling into a building complex across the street from the sandy shores. Mason guides me along the cracked sidewalk to a shop with fogged windows and a faded sign readingAnnie’s Brews. The interior walls are paneled with wood, and golden lamps decorate the perimeter. Bookshelves arescattered along the hardwood, tucked beside leather couches, love seats, and rounded tables. The aroma is sweet and nutty. A handful of people are lounging around—some on laptops, two in business suits, and a couple of sophomores I recognize.
“Mason!” A young woman with wildly curly hair stands behind the barista counter, dressed in anI Love You a Latte!apron. She waves, a gigantic smile plastered on her face. “What are we having today?”
“Hey, Annie.” Mason treads closer, massaging his hands like we came in from a blizzard. “Cinnamon-twist latte, please. Extra sweet?”
Her grin wavers, and her eyes search him intently. “That kind of day, huh?”
“Yes.” Mason’s voice comes uncharacteristically dull and flat.
“I see.” Annie offers me an expectant smile before I can stick my nose in whatever they’re talking about. “How about you, hon?”
I wave my hand halfheartedly. “I’m okay. Never had coffee, so…”
Annie gives me this look like I’ve just killed a golden retriever directly in front of her.
