Page 40 of Offside Attraction

“We should celebrate,” Tripp says.

I chuckle as I step past him and yank my locker open. “It’s Monday.”

“So?” Tripp shrugs. “We don’t have to get shit-faced. Just… do something. This is a big deal.”

“It’s really not,” I mutter, shoving a few books into my backpack.

“Itis,” he insists. “You made the hockey team. With Hayes Griffin as captain. You’re one lucky son of a bitch.”

I scoff, half-smiling despite myself.

“Why don’t I think about it?” I say, raising a brow as I sling my backpack over my shoulder.

I won’t think about it. I just want him to drop it. Whatever celebration Tripp has in mind will definitely include Hayes and his crew.

And that’s the last thing I want.

Should’ve thought about that before joining the team,my subconscious mutters.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tripp says, already distracted.

Brooklyn just walked past with her best friend, Kris. She smiles and waves. Tripp practically melts.

I slam my locker shut to snap him out of it. “When are you gonna ask her out?”

“What?” He jumps, tearing his eyes away from her.

“Brooklyn,” I say dryly. “You’ve been eye-fucking her every chance you get.”

Tripp smirks, glancing back at her before facing me. “She’s fine as hell. But she’s too good for me.”

“Shouldn’t you letherdecide that?” I ask as we start toward English, Tripp falling into step beside me.

He shrugs. “Besides, she’s dating King.”

“She’s dating Ezra?” I ask, genuinely surprised a girl like Brooklyn would be involved with someone from Hayes’ circle.

I’ve been at Crestview Prep long enough to know Ezra King doesn’t exactly have a stellar reputation with women. So yeah—this is shocking.

I don’t know Brooklyn all that well, but Tripp never shuts up about her, so I know enough. She’s the head of the Mathletes, ridiculously smart, shy, petite, Chinese—and also Tripp’s calculus tutor.

To sum it up?

She’s a good girl.

“Yup,” Tripp says. “But Ezra isn’tdatingher. He’s just playing with her feelings. When he’s not with Brooklyn, he’s busy fucking some other girl.” He scoffs. “She’s way too good for him.”

Oh.

“Sooner or later, she’ll realize that,” I say. “And maybe realize you’re actually a decent guy to date.”

Tripp bumps my shoulder lightly. “Yeah. But for now, I’m not shooting my shot. I’m playing the good-friend card. Maybe she’ll see I genuinely like her.”

I smile at that and push open the doors to AP English.

We take our seats in the middle of the classroom—not too close to the front, not too far from the back.

“You know,” Tripp says as I hook my backpack under my desk, “I’m curious… why’d you guys move here from New York? I’ve been there enough times to know it’s not a shitty place.”