Page 36 of Scoring the Player
“I am. Really. That guy was just a jerk.” The more people Felix has introduced me to, the more I realize that most don’t care. Am I still humiliated? Yes. But I’m done hiding.
“Well, in that case, give us the play-by-play of the fight. I’m liking Felix more and more. Anyone that would throw down for your honor.” Violet inches closer. “Gavin banned that dude from ever coming to another party at The White House.”
“Wow,” I say. I didn’t expect that.
“I cannot believe I missed it,” Jane says with a shake of her head. “I leave you alone for five minutes.”
I fill them in on the night and then the fight, as best as I remember it. It all happened so fast. One second I was wishing the ground would swallow me up and the next Felix was punching the guy. I hate to admit it because I’m generally anti-violence, no matter the situation, but it was amazing to have someone show up for me in that moment. And even more amazing for that someone to be Felix.
* * *
Sometime after one in the morning, I finally head upstairs to my room. The window in my room looks out toward the street. Cars still line the road in front of our house and a couple walks by, hand in hand, headed home from the party. The music has quieted, but the party is still going next door.
I stand at the window and watch for a few seconds, suddenly wondering if Felix went home or back to the party. He gave me his number, but I haven’t used it yet. I change quickly and then climb into bed, phone in hand.
Me
Are you still up? Also, it’s Dahlia.
I delete it before I send and try again.
Me
Thank you for tonight. I had fun. Hope your hand is okay.
I close my eyes and squeal as I press send. I immediately want to take it back. It’s after one in the morning. Now I seem desperate and like I’m—
I jump when my phone pings with a new text.
Felix
I had fun too. My hand is fine. I wish I’d hit him harder.
Stupid butterflies in my stomach did not get the memo that punching people is bad.
13
DAHLIA
All eyes areon us as I walk with Felix through the dining hall to the football table Monday morning. Freddy dorm is where all the student-athletes live, so the dining hall is filled with jocks from every sport, and admirers who want their attention. I guess I fall into both categories, but I never got this kind of attention when I ate here freshman year.
“Lucas, can you scoot down?” Felix asks as he sets his tray on the table. He motions for me to take his buddy’s seat as Lucas moves to make room.
“Thanks,” I say and quickly sit with my tray.
“You brought the ringer,” Brogan says. He and Archer are seated across from us. “Next time, you’re on my team.”
He smiles and then tosses a grape in his mouth.
“Hey,” Archer says. His voice is quieter than Brogan’s. Actually, everything about him is quieter than his friend. He draws less attention to himself, but he’s actually really cute. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, and hazel eyes. His hair is long enough that it hides the hearing aids I caught a glimpse of the other night.
“Morning.” I try to meet their friendly smiles.
Felix twists the cap off his Gatorade and takes a long drink before he says, “Find your own girl, Six.”
Brogan ignores him. “You’re on the golf team, right?”
“That’s right,” I say, surprised he knows.
