Page 23 of The Surprise Play (Nolan U Football #3)

ELIZABETH

So it turns out that trying to tutor a student while the Nolan U Cougars are competing in the finals is impossible.

Not only for the student who can’t concentrate but for me as well.

In the end, I just give up, and we huddle in front of his laptop and watch the game together. I’ve never really been one for watching football, but this is the second game I’ve checked in on, and I’m actually nervous as I watch our team compete for the title.

This is huge.

The Cougars have only made it to the finals a few times in the past, and the team hasn’t been for a good five years at least, apparently.

So this is their chance for glory, and they are giving their all to claim it.

Holding my breath, I watch the offense set for their next play and wince at the crunch of pads and helmets as the ball is shot back to Zander Donohue .

“Come on, Zan-Man,” the guy beside me whispers.

It feels weird sitting this close to him. I’m usually in the adjacent seat and coaching him through technical writing, which the poor guy really struggles with. He knows what he wants to say but is hard-pressed to word things in clear, precise ways. That’s what I’m here for.

But when he couldn’t stop checking his phone and I finally coaxed the truth out of him, I knew his assignment was the last thing we’d be able to focus on.

“Shall we just watch it? We can catch up on this work another time.”

“Yes!” He whooped and tapped his laptop, bringing up the game on his screen, then handing me an earbud.

I was so surprised by his silent invitation, and instinct told me to decline and leave him to it.

But then the thought of seeing Wily stopped me.

So I moved my seat, and now my arm is lightly brushing against the freshman beside me while we cheer the Cougars on from the second floor of the library.

Wily pushes a guy, blocking him from running after the wide receiver when he punches through a gap and starts sprinting for the end of the field.

“Carson McAvoy with a great burst of speed,” the commentator says. “But can he get clear to receive the—oh,” he hisses. “Taken down with a crunch. Boy, the Cougars are taking a beating tonight.”

I wince, biting my bottom lip as I watch Wily run over to help Carson back to his feet. The wide receiver hobbles for a minute, then finds his footing, slowly jogging to the sideline.

Man, I don’t know how they do it .

Their bodies get punished on that field, yet they keep getting up and fighting.

They’re warriors, in a way.

Men who just won’t quit.

You’ve got to admire that about them.

Although I’ve always avoided athletes like the plague, especially football players who have a tough arrogance that rubs me the wrong way… I have to admit that seeing what they do on that field maybe helps me understand them a little better.

They bleed and break for the glory of their team.

Maybe they deserve just a touch of that cocky pride they always wear.

My insides rumble and squirm as I think back to some of those high school football players who made me want to shrink between the cracks in the pavement.

But spending time with Wily has made me realize that not all athletes are the same. And not all athletes are hardwired to pick on the uncoordinated fat girl who can’t catch a ball.

The guy beside me hisses, and I tune back in to what the commentators are saying.

“It’s not looking good for the Cougars. The gap is only getting wider, and they’ve only got one quarter left. Can they make this last fifteen minutes count?”

I cross my fingers under the table and start praying they do.

But my silent pleading goes unheeded.

The Cougars give it everything, fighting with a desperation that’s palpable… but in the end, they can’t close the gap and end up losing by five points .

“No,” my student whimpers, burying his face in his hands and… is he crying?

Okay, awkward.

What am I supposed to do now?

“Uh…” I lightly pat his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I thought this was our year.” He sniffs, looking up at me with glassy eyes. “I really thought this was our year.”

“I’m sorry.” I wince.

He sighs, his shoulders finally hitching before he slaps his computer closed and holds his hand out for the bud in my ear.

“Oh.” I hand it back and smile. “Thanks for letting me watch with you.”

“Yeah.” He sighs again, packing up his things and slumping away from the table, already texting someone else and completely missing my goodbye.

I stay where I am until he’s out of sight, wondering how Wily’s feeling right now.

Poor guy.

He lives and breathes football and probably had his heart set on winning.

He must be so gutted.

I wish I could text him and find out, but that’s not my place. It’s not like we’re friends or anything.

He was friendly to you the other day.

He stood up for you against Viper Girl.

My lips twitch as I relive his antics as a catwalk model.

He was so sweet. Those tingles spread through me again, and I don’t bother fighting them.

For just a second, I let them bubble and grow until my mind is consumed with the good-looking blond.

His smile, those blue eyes, his big, powerful body lifting me off the ground .

No one’s ever lifted me like that before.

Well, not as an adult.

My dad stopped picking me up when I was like eight or nine.

My feet haven’t left the ground in over a decade.

But they did the other morning.

They dangled in the air because two strong arms held me tight against a solid chest and?—

My phone starts ringing.

I jolt, whacking my elbow on the table as I come out of my reverie.

“Ouch.” I give it a rub while wrestling the device out from the front pocket of my bag.

Only just catching the call in time, I whisper a quick “Hey, Mom. I’m just in the library. Can I call you back in a sec?”

“Yes, of course, sweetheart. Talk to you soon.”

She hangs up, and I hurry to gather my things. Rushing down the steps, I slip on the second to last one, catching myself against the railing and forcing a tight smile at the woman who saw me.

“You okay?” she asks.

I nod and rush past her, my cheeks burning as I bolt out the glass doors and into the cold air outside. It feels good against my skin, and I suck in a deep, crisp breath before calling Mom back.

“Hey,” I greet her. “How’s it going?”

“I’m good. I was just missing my girl and thought I’d check in.”

I smile. Missing me. We spoke yesterday…

although that was about the diner and the fact that Dad has to hire a new cook because Ralph is finally retiring.

It’s about ti me—the man is like seventy-nine or something—but he’s been an institution at our family diner since my parents opened it twenty-eight years ago.

They’re going to miss Ralph so much, and all I can hope is that his replacement is a perfect fit. I’m not sure my dad will cope if the kitchen’s not running smoothly.

“I’m doing well.” I give my standard response.

“Yeah? Still acing all your classes?”

“I’m trying.”

Mom laughs. “Of course you’re acing them. You’ve always been the smartest girl in the room.”

I cringe. I should be smiling. Being the smartest is awesome and a great compliment.

But for once, it’d be cool to be the prettiest girl in the room… or the most popular.

That is never going to happen. Let it go!

Logically, I know being smart is better than both those things, but?—

“What else have you been up to?” Mom asks. “Please tell me it’s not all study, study, study.”

“No,” I lie.

“So, you’re getting out there? What social events have you gone to?”

Aw, crap. Why does she always have to ask for specifics?

“Well, I watched a football game today.”

“Really? Did you know what was happening?” She laughs.

I grin and admit without thinking, “Someone explained the rules to me, so I was able to follow along.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. So, did you go to a sports bar with them to watch it? Who is this football tutor of yours?” She laughs again, and all I can do is wince .

I’m so not ready to tell her about Wily. She’ll go ahead and ask a million questions about him, and who knows what will come out of my mouth.

No, it’s better just to play it safe.

Scuffing the sidewalk, I tell her, “I watched in the library.”

“By yourself?” Mom sounds so disappointed. It’s nice to be able to tell her that I was watching with my tutoring student. “Oh, well, that’s something. Nice that you were doing something a little social.”

Hardly. We barely talked during the game.

But I’m not about to admit that.

I open my mouth, hoping to bring the conversation back around to her and Dad, but she beats me to it.

“And how about dorm life? Is everyone being nice to you?”

My insides scrunch into a tight ball as thoughts of Viper Girl’s nastiness pepper me. She’s not in my dorm, but her face flashes through my mind, because I know Mom’s really checking to make sure that I’m not being bullied again.

Mom can never know that Jade is now attending Nolan U, and that she’s recruited new minions for her Hate on Hippo Girl cause.

It’ll eat her alive, and I’m not going to put that on her.

She’ll only stress about what might be happening to me and then tell Dad, which will make him worry, and they have enough on their plate right now.

My silence is protecting them, and I can handle those girls… as long as I avoid their normal routes and stay invisible.

“Bessie? People are being nice to you, right? ”

“Yeah,” I assure her. “People in my dorm are lovely.”

At least I think they are. I don’t actually hang with any of them, but no one pays me much attention, and that can only be a good thing.

Mom lets out a lyrical sigh. “Well, that’s wonderful to hear. I’m just so keen for you to make a good friend. You know, I’ve heard that the friends you make in college can last you a lifetime.”

I let out an awkward laugh, not sure how to respond.

“You are trying, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

My throat swells, and it’s an effort to force out a cheerful “Of course.” I want to tell her that I had dinner with a friend the other night, but did I really?

It was a tutoring session that involved food!

And other conversation.

My insides tingle as I think about the animated look on Wily’s face as he told me how epic going to the Super Bowl was.

“Because I just don’t want you to hide yourself away and let…

things from the past stop you.” Mom grabs my attention with her quiet words, and I start munching on my lower lip.

“Those girls from high school made you feel like it wasn’t safe to put yourself out there, and it’s not fair for your college experience to be hampered by them.

I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide in the shadows anymore.

You’re free of them now, and it’s your right to experience all college has to offer. ”

With burning eyes, I stare in front of me and try to keep this lie going. I feel kind of bad when she makes statements like that and I don’t correct her.

Part of me wants to wail, “But Jade is here! I have to protect myself, Mom. I have to! ”

But instead, I force a smile into my voice. “I know, Mom. And you don’t have to worry. I’m having a good year.”

“Are you sure?” Her doubt always makes me feel bad for some reason.

Like she doesn’t believe I can have fun unless I’m going to parties and hanging out with a bunch of rowdy people.

She doesn’t get that fun for me is snuggling up with a movie musical and singing along with the actors… or drinking my coffee every morning at Java Jeans and watching the world pass me by… or disappearing into the pages of a good book and getting so absorbed that it actually feels real.

I love those things.

That ball in my stomach bounces around, an energy I don’t understand making it vibrate. Rubbing the itchy spot above my belly button, I try to ignore these weird sensations inside me.

I’m happy with my own company.

I don’t need friends!

Wily flashes through my mind. His sweet smile. The way he held me, made me laugh.

It felt so freaking good to have an ally. To have him shout at that mean girl on my behalf.

But…

I’m happy on my own.

I keep trying to sell myself on that line for some reason. Tonight… it’s not holding as much power.

Pausing at the edge of the curb, I check the street for traffic before shuffling across the road and noticing a group of girls giggling together as they walk ahead of me, all talking at once.

They sound so happy.

So connected.

I’ve never had that.

I can’t imagine I ever will.

And something about that thought makes that ball in my stomach shrivel. It’s replaced with a heavy, aching feeling that I know all too well.

I keep trying to deny it, but as I walk home talking to my mother, reality hits like a power punch…

I’m lonely.

And I don’t know how to make any friends.