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OLIVER

K issing Maya Shelton happened with such ease and spontaneity that I emerged from the library and made my way to the locker room wondering if it had been a dream.

But Maya’s number was in my phone and that was indeed proof that it had been real.

It had been a tense day of avoiding Savannah—sitting on opposite sides of the room in the two classes we shared, going out for pizza with the boys at lunch break, and voluntarily going into the school library just so I wouldn’t see her around.

Ironically, it was Mrs. Shelton, my English teacher and Maya’s mother, who gave me a list of study books I should check out. Mrs. Shelton had been particularly discreet, indicating with a nod that I should approach her desk on my way out of English class. I inwardly cringed, knowing my last assignment had been basic, to say the least. There wasn’t a lot of time to study, not with training, gym work, more training, and up until Friday night, spending time with my girlfriend. Now, one of those would no longer be an excuse.

Mrs. Shelton’s smile had been tight and strained. She’d always been generous in allowing me extra time for homework or giving me a chance to redo less than adequate work. English had never been my strong subject, the creative side of my brain always in a fog. I’d never been able to write stories about pirates and lost treasure or flying dragons, or aliens that transformed into household appliances. And I couldn’t see the point in poems or understand why we needed to read essays written back in 19th century England. I could write about throwing the football to my wide receiver and scoring a touchdown and give a detailed summary of game stats and that was about it.

“Good win against Lincoln,” Mrs. Shelton said.

“Thanks,” I said, aware kids were filing past. “Yeah, it was. Bring on the quarterfinal.”

Mrs. Shelton smiled and waved a piece of paper in her hand, her voice dropping. “I’ve listed a couple of books. Check them out in the library. I think they’ll help with your grade...” She paused and smiled. “Why don’t you go there now?”

“I appreciate it,” I mumbled, my gratitude not specifically for the list of study guides but because she was quietly giving me a second chance. Not wanting to let her down, I zoomed to the library, knowing I’d be cutting it fine with training, but I could do it.

Not being overly familiar with the library layout, I stopped at the desk to ask the librarian where I’d find them. I would have managed with a quick direction to the back, but as Ms. Feng was writing down the exact row and shelf position of each book I could see Savannah making her way to the door which was bizarre in itself because Savannah wasn’t known for hanging out at the library. It had to mean she’d followed me.

I grabbed the paper from Ms. Feng, thanking her quickly. Scouting the signs, I moved with speed, fearing Savannah and friends were gaining ground.

As I turned into the reference aisle, I spotted Maya Shelton sitting alone at the table. I knew her from the cheer team and she’d been my next-door-neighbor way back when we lived in Cherry Lane. It seemed like some kind of bizarre coincidence, fate even, that I was here because of her mother.

I’m not sure how my brain computed all the parts of the scenario to come up with the scheme that happened in the blink of an eye. Before I could consider my actions and the consequences, I kissed Maya and asked her to fake date me in order to send Savannah a message. It could have been the fast approaching footsteps of Savannah and entourage. Or it could have been that Maya, with her long hair floating past her shoulders and her stunning brown eyes was like an angelic vision.

From past history, breaking up with Savannah had been a drama that involved heartfelt emotion and a bunch of tears—hers, not mine—which resolved itself sometime in the following week. But it occurred to me, that I didn’t want that. There’s a saying Coach often told us after repeated losses: If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll keep getting the same result. Essentially meaning, if we didn’t make major changes, we were going to keep losing games. Sometimes that meant dropping plays that we’d been working on or introducing new plays or players.

For whatever reason, that now resonated with me in my current situation. And made me ponder just how good Savannah and I were together. Oh sure, we’d exchanged our mutual love for one another—but was it love? If it was love, why did we end up fighting so much and why did it feel like our relationship was such a chore? If Savannah and I reunited after a week or ten days or whatever, nothing would actually change—it would happen again, some good times, then another fight, a breakup, a reunion—a vicious cycle.

And with our best football season in years, and with college applications looming, and my grades teetering on the brink of barely passing , I needed to make a change. I couldn’t carry on like this for the rest of senior year.

Though I hadn’t intended for Maya Shelton to be in the plan.

Yet, now she was—my new fake date.

As I headed to training, my brain jostled with all the insanity of the past few minutes. It wasn’t like Maya was a complete unknown. We’d been neighbors and Lizzie, Maya’s older sister had briefly dated my brother George in their senior year. I could make this work, and it only needed to be temporary. Just until Savannah saw once and for all that we were never ever getting back together.

Grabbing my helmet and pads, strangely relief flooded my body, much like the way Coach made us huddle in the ‘breathing circle’ after a game. He said we had to let go, dispel all our negative thoughts and stay in the present moment, be thankful we could play this great sport. It was quite easy to do after a victory, not so much after defeat.

But this time it felt like I was mapping out a new direction. And though it sounded harsh to be freeing myself from the shackles of Savannah, I surged with hope, with excitement.

My bubble burst though when I arrived home and dumped my bags in the entranceway, lured into the kitchen by the smell of dinner cooking. My stomach rumbled in anticipation of some much needed food.

My phone was ringing and a glance at Savannah’s name made me immediately ignore the call. Dang her for killing my joy—she’d known the exact minute I would arrive home.

“Hey, how was training?” Mom called from the pantry.

“Yeah, good. I’ll just shower.”

Mom came out holding a long skinny loaf of bread. “Dinner’s nearly ready.”

I nodded, opening the fridge and grabbing a handful of protein balls and chugging back a glass of milk.

“Everything all right?” she asked, which I knew was a euphemism for what had happened with Savannah. Coming in after game night, I hadn’t exactly been quiet about the breakup.

“Yep,” I answered, quickly realizing I never picked up those reference guides. Not good. Mrs. Shelton would probably want my assignment tomorrow or the next day. With an early morning weights session, I wouldn’t have time to fetch them until my lunch break.

Savannah phoned three times, and it took all my mental strength not to answer and hang up straight away. Hadn’t she gotten the message?

I needed to set her straight once and for all and, on impulse, dialed Maya’s number.

The voice that answered was weak and timid and I wasn’t totally sure it was Maya and panicked that it might be Mrs. Shelton. “Hello?”

“Is this Maya’s number?”

“Yes, this is Maya.”

Now recognizing her, I joked, “Maya, M A Y A?” Hearing a soft laugh, I wished I’d video called her. “Hey, I can’t thank you enough. You know, you saved my life.”

“I don’t think Savannah was about to kill you,” she said with a surprised lilt, “was she?”

I laughed. Like genuinely laughed. “Who knows? She’s already tried to call me a hundred times since.” It was an exaggeration, but it seemed like Maya had a sense of humor.

“Death by harrassment?” she queried.

“Something like that,” I said, unable to stop smiling. “So, we gotta do something about it. When are you available? How about this Saturday?”

“This Saturday?”

“We’ve got St. Martin’s game on Friday night. So that’ll be a big night.”

“This Saturday?” she repeated, sounding a little overwhelmed. “You’re really serious about this?”

“Of course.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quit asking me if I’m sure. I’m down for this, M A Y A. Totally!”

“You think Savannah will fall for it? Why don’t you ask Blanche or Pippa? Aren’t you friends with them?”

She mentioned two girls in senior year, and yeah, they were both friends, but neither of them were date material. For me, at least. “Nah. Pass,” I said. “And besides Sav already saw us kissing, so that’ll make it more believable.”

There was silence on the phone, and my heart raced in dread that she was going to pull out of the agreement, the one I’d basically forced on her. Maybe she’d had time to think about it and realized I was a jerk for suggesting it. Or...

The thought hit me like a thunderbolt out of the blue. “Hey, you don’t already have a boyfriend, do you?” I’d never seen Maya with any boy at the games, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t seeing someone. Implications of her cheating could ruin her reputation, something I had no desire to do.

“Wh...what?”

“Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you’re dating...are you?”

“No, no I’m not, but...”

“Whew!” I sighed in relief. “I wouldn’t want to make trouble for you. Okay, that’s all good then. How about I pick you up for school tomorrow?”

“Don’t you have an early gym session?”

I was taken aback. “Uh, yeah, that’s right, I do. Okay, how about I meet you at lunch break? I’ll pick you up at your locker.”

“I...I guess,” she said, “but if you change your mind, that’s fine.”

The urge to reassure her was great and I wished I could look her in the eye, show her I was sincere about this and not going to jerk her around. “I’m not changing my mind...I promise,” I said.

And I didn’t intend to break it, but a meeting with Coach Gregor (yes, a harsh reprimand for the Monty episode) meant I was late and by the time I got to the hallways, there was no sign of Maya. I texted her that I’d been stuck with Coach, and preferring not to face Savannah in the cafeteria, I figured this was the only time to grab those study guides. I fished around in my pocket for the piece of paper Mrs. Shelton had given me. Could I find it? No, of course I couldn’t. And could I remember the names of the books? Not a clue. And was Ms. Feng at the desk? Unfortunately not.

Luck was not on my side.

There was no reply from Maya, but I didn’t panic. I’d probably see her at training. The cheer squad usually came out onto the field at some point. Yeah, that would mean Savannah too, but that would be a good thing. The whole squad would get to see me with Maya, and Savannah would have to accept that there was no hope for us.

With the quarterfinal against St. Martin’s Scorpions, our focus had to be intense. Last year the Scorpions had beaten us but we were a stronger unit this year, and if we could make the semifinal it would equal the Owls best result when my oldest brother Ryan had been quarterback. In recent years we hadn’t managed to make it past the first round, so the whole team was buzzed for more.

Working hard on our offensive plays, I neglected to see the cheer team out on the far side of the field until it was time for our cool down. I immediately sought out Maya.

And my, oh my...Maya drew me in as the squad performed a routine to the imaginary crowd in the empty stands. Her long hair was tied up in a ponytail and she wore those legging shorts like most of the girls did when training, and my heart raced in a way that wasn’t quite normal. Especially when doing a static stretch.

I threw my hand up in a wave, sparked with enthusiasm...this fake dating thing might not be as bad as I thought.