Page 15 of Show Me

“What’re you gonna say?”

“I dunno. How’s it going?”

“And?”

“Ummm. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

“Fair enough.” He chuckled and slid from the bed, taking the photo album with him and placing it back on the dresser. “I can fill you in on football draft picks and stuff if you want me to.”

I smiled. “I think I’ll be okay. I think Pittman is a bad choice for the Falcons. I’d be Newsom all the way.”

Sam’s lips parted, and he rocked back on his heels as a smile spread slowly. “Wow. I stand corrected. Wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “How long did it take you to perfect that?”

“Guess I got lucky and nailed it on the first try,” I parroted, then laughed. “Fine. I looked into it after I got back from the party that night.” While trying to distract myself from going back through and watching every single video Sam had ever made.

“Pretty impressive. All right, I’ll leave you alone now.” At the doorway he angled a look back at me. “See you tomorrow, I guess.”

Or sooner if my dreams were mean.

Once he’d gone back downstairs, I opened John’s contact info and stared at it, mentally composing different versions of a flirty message, then tossed aside the phone without sending anything.

Tomorrow I’d do it for real. I was really starting to fall behind in Operation Bang My Way Through Senior Year, after all.

5

Sam

My phone vibrated just as statistics let out, and I opened the Craigslist app, quickly skimming the message before deleting it and tucking my phone away. Another creeper, another no from me.

“Hey.” I upnodded Jesse as he passed by me toward the exit. He always sat at the front, and not that sitting with me was a requirement at all, but I kept getting the feeling he was avoiding me.

“Hey,” he replied and continued toward the door with hardly a pause.

Even in the house he seemed to go out of his way to make himself scarce when I was there lately, and I’d been racking my brain trying to figure out if I’d done something wrong. Maybe I really was a shitty wingman and he was good at holding a grudge? That didn’t seem like him, though.

I couldn’t remember ever being anything other than polite, and it seemed like a stretch that he’d still be embarrassed or something over me being in the room when he’d run in all flushed and teary three years ago. So I was well and truly stumped.

I scrambled to stuff my books in my backpack and caught up with him outside, falling in step beside him. “Do you want to study for the exam together?”

Surprise crossed Jesse’s face, and then he blinked at me dubiously. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

He scrunched his nose. “Actually, you probably don’t want to study with me. I bombed the pop quiz last week.”

“Oh, I did pretty well on that. So maybe you should study with me.” I grinned as surprise crossed his face for the second time. Most people assumed because I was massive, on the football team, and also in a frat, that I was an idiot. Or it might have been that I was generally a pretty happy-go-lucky dude. Mark called me a golden retriever, which was fine with me. Life was way more pleasant with a glass-half-full attitude. At least in my experience. So I didn’t sweat the small stuff. Well, except where Jesse was concerned.

“Really? You got an A?”

“I didn’t get a single question wrong.” I clucked my tongue with a wink. “See, all those hits I take on the football field? They have a reverse effect on my brain cells. I’m actually getting smarter.” I tapped my temple. “But it’s no skin off my back if you don’t want to. Just an offer.”

Jesse’s gaze strayed absently toward the left, and I followed it to the guy in glasses he usually sat with, who was looking our way. I tipped my chin to him in acknowledgement and turned back to Jesse. “Okay, so no?”

“No, no, actually, I’ll take you up on that.”

* * *

In addition to me,there must have been something wrong with my desk, because Jesse kept glancing over at it.