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OLIVER

G ym workouts were always my favorite. There were three of us guys who liked to motivate and push each other. In between lifting weights, we were constantly comparing physiques, flexing our muscles in front of the mirror and practicing bodybuilding poses. Yeah, we got a kick out of parading around shirtless, boasting about our new personal bests and drinking our high protein shakes.

Until Coach would come in and tell us to put our shirts back on.

The gym, along with the football field was my sanctuary. It’s where I shone, where my confidence rose. But today, gossip ruled the roost.

Wendall Slight, the linebacker was setting himself up on the squat machine and motioned over to me with an eyebrow raise. “Blackwell,” he called as I sat on the bench pushing fifty pound dumbbells above my head, “what’s the deal with Savannah?”

I glowered at him through the mirror, but it was Adam, my best friend, who butted in. “We don’t speak that name out loud. Not here,” Adam joked, before resuming personal trainer mode, counting, “Four...five...come on Ollie, one more!”

I groaned as I lifted my last rep, dropping the dumbbells to the floor with an unwarranted clank. It wasn’t good etiquette to drop weights, but the mention of Savannah had sent my blood boiling. I wanted to erase her from my memory, not be reminded of her every hour.

“She’s saying you cheated on her,” Wendall said. “That you were two timing her.”

“You believe that?” Adam answered for me. “You can’t believe that?”

“She says you kissed Maya Shelton.”

“Yeah, I kissed Maya Shelton after I broke up with Sav,” I said trying hard to hold back my irritation, “but that’s nobody’s business.”

It was a complete contradiction because I’d kissed Maya right in front of Savannah precisely to announce that I was moving on, essentially making it her business.

“But Maya Shelton? She’s a junior,” Wendall said as if it was a totally unconvincing matchup.

I stood up, shaking out my arms, leaving the seat for Adam to do his set. “Maya’s cute, she’s fun and she sure can kiss,” I said, and though I laughed, deep in my heart I meant every word. “Plus we used to be neighbors,” I added, just to consolidate my new unlikely relationship. “We go way back.” I nonchalantly crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the rack, hoping Wendall would be bored of the conversation. “How much is that?” I asked of the weight he was about to squat.

And just like that the focus returned to lifting weights and our upcoming game. Priorities, of course.

Though, strangely, thoughts of Maya kept invading my head, memories of that kiss, her bubbliness and her willingness to play the fake dating game for my sake. That was something to appreciate and I was determined to show her that it meant the world to me.

Savannah wasn’t in school for the second day in a row. Her cousin and friend, Reece, made a point of letting me know as I stood at my locker, nervous about my upcoming English class. I wondered if Mrs. Shelton had graded the assignments yet.

“Sav’s sick,” Reece said.

“Sorry to hear that,” I muttered, “but what do you want me to do about it?”

“I just thought you should know,” she said pointedly. “It all started when you broke up with her.”

Now, something about being blamed for Savannah’s illness filled me with fury, and I grabbed Reece’s elbow as she was walking away. “Hey,” I said, anger rising, “she gave her number to Ben Monty, remember? She’s the one who caused the breakup.”

Reece glared at me with narrowed eyes, like I was the devil incarnate. The slow shake of her head and tight lips were an indicator that this was all on me and Savannah was blameless. That Savannah could do no wrong.

Knowing Reece’s loyalty would be unshakeable, I huffed and stormed down the hallway to class. It would be useless to try to defend myself, Reece and Savannah were close. Reece wasn’t a cheerleader but she played one of those trumpet type instruments in the marching band so was always at the games.

I sat in Mrs. Shelton’s class a bundle of nerves, on edge wondering if she’d read my assignment and was suspecting it wasn’t entirely my own work. As class ended, someone asked if she’d graded our papers yet and Mrs. Shelton said she was halfway through and would give out the grades on Monday. Whew! Immediate relief—well, for one second. As she dismissed the class, her eyes found mine and with a narrowed gaze and subtle nod, she gestured for me to approach her desk.

My heartbeat raged in my chest as I had visions of her knowing exactly what I’d done and telling Coach who’d then sideline me for the quarterfinal. My football career would be over and Dad would go ballistic. I wouldn’t graduate high school and would end up packing groceries for the rest of my life.

I moved at a snail’s pace, making sure everyone had departed the room so that there was no audience to witness Mrs. Shelton destroying my whole life.

“Oliver,” she said, clearing her throat.

I couldn’t look her in the eye, imagining my parents’ disappointment when they found out their youngest son was letting them down. They’d regret having that fourth child.

As I opened my mouth to speak, nothing came out. I was an empty vessel and my stomach churned worse than first game nerves. I did get nervous before a game, but they were good nerves, the pumped-up-adrenaline-inducing nerves. But these were the type that made you puke on your shoes.

“It’s come to my knowledge—”

It was better to confess, right? Admit I used Lance’s assignment as a guide and take the punishment, yeah? On the verge of telling all, I lifted my eyes.

But Mrs. Shelton was still talking and if anything, her tone was amused, “...that you asked my daughter out on a date?”

Relief rushed through me and in the next instant, I was bubbling and babbling. “Yep. Maya. Yep, that’s right. That’s okay, isn’t it? This Saturday. If you’re good with it, of course.”

Mrs. Shelton cocked her head like she was suddenly suspicious of my enthusiasm.

“I promise I’ll bring her home on time. That’s if she has a curfew. Yeah, of course I will.” I was rambling at this stage, barely making sense.

“Uh huh,” Mrs. Shelton said coolly. “And how are you going on your assignment? Are you managing?”

“Yep. Good. I sent it to you last night,” I said.

Mrs. Shelton’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Did you? I haven’t checked yet.”

“Well, with the game on Friday, I wanted to make sure I was up to date on all my schoolwork. You know, no distractions for the quarterfinal.”

Mrs. Shelton’s face lit up. “Well, good for you, Oliver. We’ll certainly all be cheering for the Owls.”

“Thank you, ma’am. The team appreciates it,” I said somewhat smugly.I excused myself with a profusion of politeness, sensing I’d won Mrs. Shelton over and was now in her good books. Maybe things really were turning around for me. For the first time in ages, I felt light and free as if I’d been unchained from my shackles.

I’m not sure when the weight of expectation had taken over my life. Maybe it was since being named Player of the Year for the Western Conference last year—a title that was an honor, but came with a whole truckload of pressure. Or it could have been the whole #Olivannah hashtag going viral. No longer could we take a random selfie and post it online, no, Savannah insisted on photoshopping my wayward hair, frown lines, bruises and blemishes, like anybody actually cared. She’d even started dressing me—yep, telling me what to wear. My favorite Green Bay Packers jersey, gray sweatpants, slides and socks and a host of other clothes had been deemed not suitable to be worn in public.

I scanned the cafeteria with a spring in my step, my eyes targeting only one person. I zoned in on Maya sitting at one of the round junior tables, surrounded by a bunch of friends.

A girl wearing a pink beanie saw me first, nudging Evie, Toby’s kid sister, and the next thing the whole table had turned in my direction, wide eyed and giggly. I slowed, wondering if I was being too brazen. Already Maya had been a good sport about fake dating me, but was I being too intrusive—barging in on her friend group? But it was too late. I was steps away from her table.

“Hey, Maya,” I said, smiling as her cheeks flushed pink.

“Hi. Oliver.” Her reply was stilted. Not exactly pleased to see me.

“Uh, have you got a minute?”

“A minute?” Her gaze flitted to each of the girls as if seeking their permission.

“Yeah, a minute.”

Prodded by the two girls either side, she stood and I reached out and pulled her away from the table. She whispered, “Is everything okay? Have you changed your mind?”

I frowned. “Changed my mind? About what?”

“The date. On Saturday?”

“No. No way. I just wondered if you wanted a ride home after practice. And maybe decide what we want to do on Saturday night.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said, her lips twitching in an adorable way. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“Cool,” I said, my heart fluttering in my chest like a caged animal looking to escape.

“Cool,” she repeated, but her eyes wandered around the room.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” I murmured, the question bursting from my mouth unrehearsed. “Just on your forehead.”

Maya looked up at me, tilting her neck as she whispered. “I don’t think Savannah’s here today. I think she’s sick again.”

It wasn’t what I wanted to hear—the mention of my ex’s name, but kissing Maya was all I wanted to do. The distance between us was already unbearable and I brought my lips down to brush against her warm skin. Well, brush was the intention, but it was as if I’d been superglued to her.

“Ol—lie?” Maya’s voice lilted after a few seconds and I reluctantly removed my lips from her skin.

And I grinned. “That felt good,” I said.

Maya nodded but her expression was uncertain, causing me to look over my shoulder. Mrs. Harkness, a math teacher was gawking our way. “She might tell Mom,” Maya said through gritted teeth.

“Okay,” I said, “catch you later.”

It’s like I bounced through the next few classes with an air of invincibility, which was definitely weird because schoolwork was not my favorite thing. But the anticipation of meeting Maya after training somehow had me floating in the clouds. And that was something totally unexpected.

And new.

Because I couldn’t remember a time when I was ever this excited to meet up with Savannah. Oh, maybe our very first date back in sophomore year after we’d started hanging out in the same friend group, but in recent months the relationship had become more of a chore than anything. Just going through the motions, showing up, putting on an act.

And yet, the irony was that this thing with Maya totally was an act. I’d asked her to be my fake girlfriend, but for something that wasn’t supposed to be real, I was hyped to the max. How did that work? I had no idea, but my adrenaline was soaring like it does during the national anthem before a game. Yeah, I couldn’t understand it. Was it the thrill of doing something deceitful, the act of revenge that had me pumped? That had to be it—what else could it be?

Our training session was one of the best we’d ever had. Coach Gregor had us in the zone—every single team member giving it a hundred percent. Beating St. Martin’s would keep our championship title dreams alive and no one wanted that title more than me. Except maybe Coach Gregor. He was retiring at the end of the season and wanted to end his career on a high note.

The cheer squad finished before us, and I became impatient for Coach to wind up practice. I didn’t want Maya getting bored while waiting for me. My heart rate escalated as Coach prolonged his closing talk, all stuff we’d heard a thousand times before.

I inadvertently sighed, causing Coach to pause and stare in my direction.

“Am I boring you, Blackwell?”

I had to think quickly. “No sir,” I said, “but you hammered us hard today and I think”—I scrunched up my nose as I sniffed the air—“everyone could do with a shower.”

“Make it ice cold,” Coach snapped back with a smirk while the team laughed.

“Of course,” I said with a nod, knowing I wouldn’t bother till I got home—a blast of body spray would have to do. The anticipation of seeing Maya, of driving her home had me speeding to the locker room, then out to my car where I hoped she’d be waiting.

Maya was standing with Rose, another cheerleader. “Hello ladies,” I said with a swagger of confidence. Maya turned pink while Rose smiled shyly. “Do you need a ride, Rose?”

“Oh no. No. Not at all. My Dad’s on his way. Thanks for asking though,” she said, her cheeks also turning red.

“Of course,” I said, secretly happy, but I would have given her a lift if she needed one.

“See you tomorrow, Maya,” Rose called as she moved over to the pick-up zone.

Maya waved and picked up her tote bag. “How was training?”

“Great,” I said. “Sorry you had to wait. Coach wouldn’t stop talking. How was your training?”

“It was good,” she said, grinning as she buckled herself in.

“Awesome.”

We chatted about Friday’s schedule, the game being played at a neutral ground which meant we would stay after school for a pre-game meal before taking the bus to Naperville Stadium, thirty minutes away.

“Is the team pumped?” Maya asked.

“Sure is.”

“My Dad says you’re the best quarterback the Owls have had in years.”

I took my eyes off of the road ahead to glance at Maya. “Yeah? He said that?”

“Uh huh.”

“You talk to your Dad about football?”

She smiled and nodded. “Dad used to be quarterback in junior high. But he got a concussion and then couldn’t play again. His football career was basically over before it begun.”

“That sucks,” I said.

“But it’s okay,” Maya said. “Because of that injury, he took up track and field and he became the discus champion of Bourkeville High. A fact he likes to remind us of regularly.”

I chuckled. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, it is,” Maya said, flashing me a smile that sent my heart rate accelerating.

“Hey, have you thought any more about our date? Like, what you want to do?”

Maya shrugged. “No, just whatever you want. I don’t mind.”

I was momentarily lost for words, disappointed that she hadn’t given it some thought. “But...you, you must have an idea?”

“Well, I guess you want to go somewhere where Savannah will see us. Maybe a movie? Or The Diner?”

Yeah, I’d had a lapse in memory, forgetting that this was a fake date, just for show. But Maya obviously hadn’t.

“Uh, sure, yeah,” I said, though sitting next to Maya in a dark cinema and not talking was possibly the worst date I could envision—I actually wanted to get to know Maya better. “Of course.”

She nodded, smiled and looked ahead and reality hit that I’d gotten excited for the wrong reason—this wasn’t a date for Maya—this was a fake date—and there was a huge difference.