“You got it, Coach.” I nodded. I’d given my dad shit about it, but I would never turn a blind eye to someone making Lily’s life any harder than it needed to be. She was as good as family.
“So you good with this Miss Fuller thing? I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but honestly, I think it could be a good thing.”
My jaw clenched as I imagined spending time with her again. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
The faintest of smirks traced Coach’s lips. “That’s the spirit.”
I didn’t wait for Miley to hunt me down. Instead, I decided to take matters into my own hands. If we were going to do this thing, and it didn’t seem like I had much choice, I was going to make sure she understood it was going to happen my way.
One of the tech guys managed to find me her schedule, so I waited outside her final class of the day. Everyone spilled into the hall, the teacher following them, but there was no sign of Miley.
Poking my head around the door, I found her packing up her things.
“Avery?” Even my name on her lips annoyed me.
“We need to talk.” I closed the door and approached her.
“Coach told you about the article?” I nodded, and her cheeks pinked. “It wasn’t my idea, I swear.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Retrieving the scrap of paper from my pocket I slammed it down on her desk. “This is my schedule. Be there, or don’t, whatever. But this is what you get.”
I turned to walk away, but Miley reached across the desk and snagged my wrist. “Wait, please.”
My eyes locked on to where she was touching me, anger boiling in my veins. “Get your fucking hand off me.” It was a low growl that had her instantly releasing me.
“I’m sorry, okay? I know I messed up… but you don’t understand. This is my life, my future—”
“You think I care?” I snapped. “I don’t. But mess with me again, mess with my team again, and we will have a fucking problem, got it?”
Apology and regret glittered in her eyes and I hated it.
I hated her.
I wasn’t typically an asshole. I didn’t abuse my position, or the power bestowed to me by my team and our fans. But Miley Fuller made me real fucking angry.
Marching to the door, I expected her to let me go. But she was a reporter. It wasn’t in her nature to stay silent.
“For what it’s worth, Avery… I never meant for it to go down like that.”
I didn’t spare her a second glance as I ripped the door open and got the fuck out of there.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” Ashleigh asked the second I reached my car. I’d promised her a ride home. I didn’t remember extending that offer to Lily.
I ignored her question, running my eyes over Ashleigh and her friend. “I’m not a taxicab.”
“Maybe I should just wait for my dad,” Lily said, and I felt like a proper shithead.
“Get in,” I said. “It’s no bother to give you a ride.”
“O-okay.”
Shaking my head, I climbed inside and waited for them. Lily burrowed into the door as if she was trying to shield herself. I’d seen her around the halls at school. She kept to herself, trying to blend into the shadows. It was a real fucking shame too. I remembered her as a kid. She’d always been so happy, so warm and kind. But that all changed in the summer before eighth grade.
Coach wasn’t wrong when he said middle schoolers were something else.
“So how are you finding high school?” I asked as I backed out of the parking lot.
“I’m just relieved to be out of Rixon Middle,” Ashleigh said.
“Lily?” I coaxed and she met my gaze in the rearview, but quickly averted her eyes.
“I-it’s okay, I guess.”
“You’ve got this, Lil.” Ashleigh flashed her a warm smile. “So back to my original question, brother of mine. What crawled up your ass and died?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged, keeping my eyes ahead.
“You are such a liar. I’m your sister. I know when something’s up, and you stormed out of school like you couldn’t be in there a second longer.”
“Just leave it, yeah, Leigh?”
Her eyes drilled holes into the side of my face, but I wasn’t about to confess.
I had bigger problems.
Like telling my dad I wanted to go to Notre Dame.
Chapter Four
Miley
Wednesday morning before classes, I found myself sitting on the bleachers, watching as Avery and the team ran drills. My reusable coffee cup warmed my hands as I observed Coach bark orders at them as they zipped up and down the field. Growing up, I’d never been a football fan. I was too busy losing myself in the fantastical worlds of the authors I loved so much. I was and always would be a bookworm, preferring to curl up on a chair at home or in the library, escaping to some faraway land.
So the fact anyone wanted to drag themselves out on a football field at half past seven in the morning and get pummeled by each other, running their legs to jelly, was beyond me. But I couldn’t deny the dedication of these young men. The same young men I’d watched last year party too hard, miss assignment deadlines, and exploit the power bestowed on them all because they could throw a football, or tackle a guy their size to the ground.
Sure, I’d seen them run drills and play games. I’d been a cheerleader for the season, so it kind of came with the territory. But this was different. This was seeing it through new eyes.
“Okay, ladies, gather round.” Coach Ford’s voice boomed across the field. He was an intimidating man: all cool gaze, with a layer of scruff on his jaw, and a physique that most of the female teachers around school got tongue-tied over whenever they saw him. He was also NFL royalty,
