Page 80 of Touchdown, Tennessee

“Is it a superhero movie?”

“Fuck if I know,” she said. “Not my type of thing, but it’s with Marty, so I’m doing it.”

She seemed to have a budding romance with a man named Marty who she met at the last car show. They’d gone out a couple of times now.

“I think you’ll enjoy it. Give superhero movies a chance. Some of them are fun.”

“Usually I’d rather watch paint dry than sit through a movie like that. I’ll try not to yell at the screen too much.”

I laughed as she walked back inside, and I realized it was the first time in two weeks that I’d felt any tension melting out of my body.

The past couple of weeks had been a blur of chaos.

I had three exams last week, back-to-back. I threw myself into studying and spent way more time at the library than any person should. I also continued research for the Homecoming article, which was proving to be…

A lot more difficult than it should be.

Itwasn’tbecause of my involvement with Andrew.

Not that I should have had any goddamn involvement with one of the football players, anyway.

Andrew admitting that he was actually starting to like me had broken me, and I didn’t know how to fix that, yet.

I was turning inward, like I always did.

Tryingto write the damn article.

But I couldn’t.

The article kept needling me like it was a thorn I couldn’t get loose from my skin. Usually when I wrote a big article like this one, I could put together an idea and watch it form over time, and it would only get better and better the more I worked on it.

When it came to the TNU Tempests, though?

There didn’t seem to be much dirt on them at all.

There was no “angle” I could find.

The Tempests had been underdogs for years and years until recently. And especially this season, I’d learned that Coach Ennick had especially high hopes for Andrew Peachel joining the team.

And so far, it was working out.

Andrewactuallywas as good at football as people expected him to be.

Good at so many things, actually.

Something ached in my chest and I ignored it.

I breathed in deep, taking in a lungful of air. The leaves were all changing colors now, and the air had turned from cool to cold.

Perfect for chopping firewood.

I raised the axe up again and slammed it down onto the next log. I worked at it for the next hour, getting a nice, tidy stack of firewood for my grandmother to use.

After heading back inside and showering off, I checked my phone.

Andrew: Drunk.

I bit the inside of my cheek, looking down at the screen.