Page 17 of The Fake
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After practice, I walk back to the dorm slowly. I’m so tired I don’t even care that no one looks up or speaks to me when I head through the common area to my room. I stop at the sight of the Valley Volleyball backpack on my bed.
“Hey.” Sydney pokes her head in before walking all the way into our room. “Do you like it? I managed to get you one of the new ones instead of the hideous ones from two years ago that are some awful purply-blue color.”
“Thank you, I should have thought of that.” I start transferring the essentials to my new bag.
“There’s a supply closet in the locker room at the fieldhouse. I only grabbed the bag, but there are shirts and water bottles and some other stuff too.”
I face her and see nothing but sincerity. I want to hug her, but I hold back. Someday, I hope we can get there. Just one more reason I need to focus on volleyball. If I prove myself on the court, I think my teammates will be more inclined to accept me. “Thank you. I appreciate it, really. I didn’t even think about bringing my old bag to practice.”
I’ve carried it for the better part of three years. So much that it feels weird when I pick up the Valley one and try it out. It’s bigger and made just different enough that it feels unnatural.
She shrugs and looks like she might want to say more, but Bri calls for her from the living room. Sydney smiles apologetically. “You’re welcome.”
Tuesday is far less eventful. I don’t have any more run-ins with Nathan, and I give Bri absolutely no reason to yell at me during practice. I’m in full Valley gear, and I work my ass off. Coach even comments on my performance, telling me to keep it up.
Wednesday afternoon, I head to class early so I can grab a seat before Nathan gets here. I try and busy myself with my phone, but I’m still aware of the exact moment he walks in. His deep voice slides over my skin, leaving goosebumps. “Can I sit by you?”
I gesture to the seat beside me, the same one he sat in last class, and he lets his backpack drop to the floor as he sits. He looks to me expectantly.
“What?” I say finally, an unsteady smile spreading across my face at his cheeky grin.
“I’m waiting for you to apologize.”
“For?”
“Not calling me. You asked for my digits and then never called.”
I think he’s trying to look hurt, but the smirk on his face is too damn irresistible to feel too sorry for him. “I’m sure you managed to fill your time just the same.”
He shrugs. “A guy can’t wait around forever.”
“Forty-eight hours is hardly forever.”
His smirk turns into a full-blown panty-melting smile.
“What’d we get?” he asks, referencing the product for our project.
“A pen.” I dig out the paper with the information and hand it to him, but I’m saved from any more of his charm when Professor Sanchez starts in on today’s lecture.
For fifty long minutes, I do my best to take notes and absorb the material, which is a feat of Olympic proportions with Nathan beside me. He makes me feel so… aware. Aware of him and of my body reacting to him. This is ridiculous. Hot guys don’t usually turn me into a distracted mess, but there’s just something about him.
When Professor Sanchez dismisses us, I shoot up from my seat, ready to flee. Nathan slides his leg out in front of him before standing, blocking my exit path.
“You got plans tonight?”
I don’t, of course. “Yeah, sorry.”
He doesn’t look like he believes me. “We’re having a party tonight.”
Sydney and Emily slide up behind me. We’re in their way, but they look less interested in leaving than they do eavesdropping.
“Text me, you have my number.” He steps into the aisle and then looks back. “Hope to see you later.”
His long legs carry him out of the auditorium quickly, and I stand stupidly frozen in place until he’s gone.
“I still can’t believe you’re dating him,” Sydney says. “He’s so hot.”
