Page 10 of The Play Maker

Maybe it’s because he’s one of the very,veryfew people I talk to. Or maybe it’s because we spend every free second texting.

Which is why I almost trip on my way to my seat.

Too busy staring at my phone, waiting for his reply, I miss the step and twist my ankle like an idiot as I stumble forward.

A few girls giggle, whispering to each other, and I let out a sigh, gripping my phone as I sink into my usual spot—by the exit, at the top, where no one ever goes and no one ever bothers me.

Placing my bag on the ground, I pull out my laptop, and set it up before grabbing my phone and scrolling back to the text Six sent me.

Six:

Burgers or pizza.

Beware. I will judge you on your answer.

I let out a quiet laugh and type back.

Me:

Burgers. Any day. And if you disagree, I think we can no longer be friends.

I check the time. Still ten minutes until class starts.

Out of habit, I send a quick text to Bailey.

Me:

College sucks. I don’t recommend it.

She probably won’t see it. She’s probably busy with her friends. But I still hit send, slip my phone into my pocket, and pull up my notes, determined to focus.

But then, of course, Austin Rhodes walks in.

Laughing, carefree with his friends, completely unaware of me—which is exactly how I want it.

But my stomach still twists at the memory of last week. My head still aches, and I swear there’s a tiny bump where his stupid water bottle hit me. Not that I went to the doctor. Absolutely not.

They would’ve asked how it happened. I would’ve had to explain.

And I really don’t want to see him again.

Which is why, when he walks into class, I try my absolute hardest to shrink into my seat and disappear. Not an easy task, considering I take up more space than the average girl.

Dipping my head only makes it worse, and sure enough, Austin’s eyes land on me and widen in recognition.

“Maisie.”

My name on his lips sends an involuntary shiver down my spine, and my stomach does this ridiculous little flutter thing that I immediately shut down.

I willnotbe one of those girls who blush and stare dreamily at Austin Rhodes. I refuse.

Rolling my eyes, I sit up straighter and glue my attention to my laptop, even though class hasn’t even started yet. If Ilookbusy, maybe he’ll take the hint and?—

Nope. A body drops into the seat beside me, the scent of a rich masculine cologne invading my space.

I chance a glance at him.

Of course, he’s grinning at me.