Page 17 of Sneaking Around with the Player
I keep waiting for one or both of us to get bored with talking, but I’m less confident that’s actually going to happen. I like Beau. I like talking to him.
After a home meet, I check my phone to find a text waiting for me.
Beau: Good luck at your meet! Let me know how it goes.
Me: First place!
Beau: Congrats!
Me: Thanks. I heard you won too! Wooo!
Beau: Thanks. You should get your sexy ass on a plane and come party with me tonight to celebrate.
Me: Be right there. Save me a shot.
Beau: I’ll save a whole bottle for you.
Me: Drunk already?
Beau: Not yet, but I’m working on it.
His team played their final game of the season, so I’m not surprised that he’s hitting it hard tonight. And I do wish I couldgo hang with him instead of going to the swim and dive party I promised my friend Rachel I’d go to with her. I think hanging with Beau would be fun. We’ve chatted enough after or during parties for me to discern that he’s the life of the party, always up for a game of beer pong, and on an exceptionally celebratory night, he breaks out the liquor and does shots instead of beer.
I’ve also learned from those drunken conversations that things with his family are a little strained. His dad puts a lot of pressure on him with football. At first, it was hard for me to feel sorry for him about it. I’d love for my family to show a little more interest in my diving.
Don’t get me wrong, my parents are supportive, but Felix gets most of the attention in that department. Especially since he started getting endorsements. I’m proud of my brother, truly. He’s maybe the most supportive person I have outside of Holly. He’s quick to talk me up and shine the spotlight on me, but people still smile politely at me and then ask him about football.
I love diving and I don’t need people to hype up the sport to be proud of myself and want to continue doing it, but I can’t deny that it’s irritating when people fawn over Felix and his football games and don’t even mention my meets.
All this to say when Beau first grumbled about pressure from his family, I chalked it up as not a big deal. But it’s different for him. They nitpick and critique to the point that I think he struggles to enjoy the victories.
When I get to the party, I check to see if he’s texted again. He hasn’t, so I send another.
Me: On a scale of 1-10, how much do you wish I were there?
Beau: 11, duh. When girls ask this question, no matter the topic, the correct answer is always 11.
Me: A wise ass, as usual.
Beau: And a sexy ass, as usual.
Electricity hums under my skin at the compliment.
Beau: Also, my real answer is still 11. What are you doing over break? Maybe we can meet up.
Me: You’re going to be in Arizona?
Beau: Yeah, of course.
I don’t know why I didn’t consider this sooner. He’s from Arizona. Our parents live maybe forty-five minutes from each other. A new level of excitement rushes through me, but just as quickly, Felix’s face flashes in my mind.
Beau’s going to be close. So close. But how am I going to see him?
Me: One more day!
Beau: Twenty-one hours and thirty-eight minutes, but who’s counting?
Me: LOL. You, apparently. Plans for your holiday break?
