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OLIVER

G oing to school on Sunday sucked, but coach had scheduled the game review for one o’clock. And even though we’d beaten St. Martin’s easily with a 28-7 win, there was a lot to go over.

Dad and I spent the morning watching the video of the other quarterfinal, Bowen vs Winchester County, already analyzing Bowen’s patterns of play, who’d taken the victory in a hard fought battle, 32-28.

Mom came in with a box of pastries and coffees, talking too loud and getting in the way of the screen. Dad and I shushed her as we focused on the game.

“Who’s winning?” Mom asked, taking a seat beside me. She supported my football but her knowledge of the sport was basic, like, “That was a good throw to Darwin.”

“Bowen,” I replied curtly.

“Their defensive line is fast,” Dad noted.

“I saw Penny and Savannah at the cafe,” Mom said, handing me an apple danish, my favorite.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Savannah said you went on a date last night.”

I kept my eyes on the television, ignoring Mom’s comment and saying, “Look at Rodgers. He’s strong.”

“You never said anything about a date?” Mom’s curiosity was piqued though and I knew she wouldn’t stop until she had answers. “I thought you said you were going to the movies.”

“I took Maya to The Diner,” I said. “We decided to give the movie a miss.”

Mom’s eyelids fluttered. “Maya?”

“Shelton,” I said. “You know, our old neighbors.”

“You’re dating Maya?” Mom’s eyes widened in disbelief and Dad’s head jerked.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my tone impassive. “I told you it’s over with Savannah.”

Mom sniffed, took her phone and left the room. Dad glanced over and we resumed our breakdown of the game.

“Is that Lizzie’s little sister?” Dad asked later.

“Yeah. Maya’s a cheerleader.”

“I’ve seen her at the games,” Dad said, and clearing his throat, he lowered his voice. “You don’t want distractions now, Ollie.”

“I’m good, Dad. The only distraction is Savannah.”

“Well, your mother and Penny are friends so you’re going to have to deal with it.”

“I am,” I said, remembering how good the date with Maya had been. They’d been no drama, no photos, no phones, no pressure. Maya had been happy to sit outside in the cool night air, eat candy and talk. Yeah, talk. Like ordinary people. For once, I didn’t feel like I was under the spotlight which dating Savannah had gotten to feel like.

Our relationship had turned into a circus, especially since #Olivannah had randomly taken off. Everyone seemed to love that the quarterback and the cheerleader dated and she had become obsessed with creating content. She’d post all the pics of us holding hands, kissing, snuggling on the couch—but most of it staged. A kiss was no longer a kiss, our hair had to be right, her lips had to be colored and shiny, our heads angled, sometimes painfully, to get the ideal shot. Nothing had felt real anymore, it was all for the camera, all trying to gain likes. I guess you could say we’d become fake.

Online we looked adorable and perfect, but in reality I’d become jaded as Savannah’s desperation for social media glory, her constant craving for attention, her so-called harmless flirting had become too much. And the reason we’d broken up so often.

Broken up and reunited.

But not this time. My date with Maya had given me a glimpse of what a real relationship might be like. Ironic, considering it was fake. But this time I was ready to move on—for good.

Following the game review, Adam had invited a bunch of kids back to his house. After the overload of football, it was fun to chill out and play video games . Hanging out with the boys, eating potato chips and sticky barbecue ribs and blasting a few orcs and trolls was the perfect way to end what had essentially been the perfect weekend.

SAVANNAH’S RETURN TO school on Monday caused a commotion, the queen back to reign over her kingdom. But I was determined to keep my focus singular, the buzz of the semifinal overriding everything. As I stopped by my locker after English class, Savannah appeared, seemingly out of thin air, deflating the high I’d just gotten from the A I’d gotten for my resubmitted English assignment, a shock to say the least.

“Hi Ollie,” she said, her hoarse voice the first thing I noticed.

“Hi, hear you had the flu. You good now?” I mumbled back out of politeness, head in my locker grabbing my pre-training drink and post-training protein balls.

“It was a throat infection,” she said woefully before adding a sarcastic, “and yeah, I am. Thanks for asking.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, in a rush to get away. There could be nothing good gained from getting involved in a conversation.

“So I hear you went out with Maya Shelton.” Savannah tried, but failed, to hide her bitterness as I closed my locker door.

“Yeah, I did,” I answered coolly.

“And coincidentally you just got an A from Mrs. Shelton’s class. After your first date with Maya? Hmmm,” she mused, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, but there was a knot forming deep in my belly at her insinuation.

“Oh, nothing,” Savannah breezed, “just maybe Mrs. Shelton has a new favorite student?”

“I stayed up past midnight working on that paper,” I said, feeling the need to justify myself, “and you should know I handed it in last week, before our date.”

Savannah smiled sweetly. “Oooh, no need to get defensive, Ollie.”

I frowned at the absurdity of her connecting a date with Maya and getting an A from Mrs. Shelton. “So, has Monty asked you out yet?”

Now Savannah was the one to look offended. “I told you I’ve been sick,” she rasped as if to demonstrate a real illness. “Though we might have something planned for this weekend.”

“You really want to date a Lincoln Loser?” I jeered.

Savannah’s eyebrows bounced up in triumph as she smirked, “Are you jealous, Ollie?”

I scowled, annoyed at myself for even asking the question. I didn’t need to know about Savannah’s dating life. We were done. She could do whatever she wanted.

Coach Gregor elevated our training intensity another notch. And strangely, the buzz I usually got after a solid session wasn’t enough; something was missing, something was lacking...Maya. Yeah, I missed seeing her. Was that crazy?

Our date had been epic, and upskilling Maya in the kissing department was something I’d done with enthusiasm. But it wasn’t just that. I’d connected with Maya. She saw me as more than the star quarterback. She’d wanted to know the real me, what I liked, and no one had asked me that before. I drove home, my stomach twisting with a weird sensation, almost an ache. Yet, a day without seeing Maya, my fake girlfriend, shouldn’t affect me that much.

Convincing myself that I had nerves due to the semifinal looming, I made it a priority to text Maya as soon as I got home from training: Hey, missed you today. I can give you a ride home tomorrow.

With no instant reply, I showered and ate dinner while filling Dad in on our session. Mom interrupted our discussion, asking, “Does anyone want more lasagna?”

Dad shook his head. “I’m good,” he said, adding, “This is great, by the way.”

“Ollie?” Her brusque tone told me she was still upset over the Savannah affair.

Hoping a second helping might appease her somewhat, I scooped more onto my plate, suddenly remembering, “Hey, I got an A on my English assignment today.”

Both parents were simultaneously shocked.

“An A?”

“Really?”

“Yep,” I said, stuffing food into my mouth to avoid their questions.

“Congratulations,” Dad said. “Well done.”

“Thank you,” I managed to say between swallowing and shoveling in another forkful.

“Yes, that’s great, Ollie,” Mom noticeably brightened. “I’d like to see it.”

“I think I left it in my locker,” I muttered, knowing full well I hadn’t, but a shudder caused every follicle on my body to resurrect. What if my assignment seemed familiar, what if she’d read Lance’s original one?

I excused myself after dinner, bolting upstairs to check my phone, my heart racing to see Maya’s text: Ok, sounds cool

I could have left it at that, but Maya was on her phone now and I was in the mood to banter.

Me: It’s what boyfriends do

Maya: Even fake ones?

My heart dipped unexpectedly, the fact that she saw me as her fake boyfriend hitting deep. But why? That’s what I was.

I’d never stopped to wonder why Maya agreed to fake date me. In hindsight, I’d barged into her life, basically demanded a favor which she’d agreed to without hesitation. Yeah, we had some old history together being ex-neighbors, but in reality she owed me nothing. Her sister Lizzie had dated my brother George for a short while, but that had ended amicably as far as I remembered.

Perhaps she had a grudge against Savannah? But that seemed highly unlikely because they were on the cheer team together, and cheer was one big happy family.

Maybe I’d been more forceful than I thought in asking her for a favor. Being a junior, she might have felt pressured to say yes, but I wasn’t intimidating—or was I? I had nearly punched Ben Monty in the face.

I read Maya’s text again and remembered we were fake: Yeah, Savannah’s back and we should be seen together.