Jaxon knocks on my door. It’s a light tap followed by three more, each increasing in sound and pressure. He never waits for an answer to come in but at least he knocked. It’s caused some issues in the past, but that’s why we have locks—so he says.
“Can I catch a ride to the bus?” he asks. Jaxon doesn’t like to drive. “Chase and Dawson already left, and I don’t know where Beck is.”
“He has to pick up his sister early from school. She has a fever.”
“Is everything okay?” Jaxon is as worried as I was when he texted me an hour ago asking me to let Coach know he’ll be fifteen minutes late.
“A bug is going around her school. Elliot’s going to watch her here since his mom’s busy.” I tighten my tie. “I’ll be ready in ten.”
Before heading downstairs, I walk to my nightstand and grab my lucky bracelet.
Our game today is only an hour away against Wisconsin. Everyone is overconfident that we’ll crush them. They haven’t won a game in the past month, but that means they’re hungry.
Our winning streak is expanding. We’ve won the past eight games.
In the car, Jaxon goes through his pre-game rituals. Which means he’s snagged the aux and put on his playlist. He rolls down the windows and is singing at the top of his lungs.
“Is Sutton coming to the game?”
“No, she has a study group tonight.” I didn’t ask her to come, didn’t want to pressure her to be there. I know she has other obligations besides me, other classes and schoolwork.
“Did you ask her to come?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you? You could have. Maybe she’d like to know that you want her there.”
I always want her there. “She’s busy. I don’t want to make her feel bad. Plus, it’s not home.”
“So?” His fingers fire away on his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Asking her to come to our game. Suggesting that she bring whatever flash cards or homework she has and does it in the stands.” We both know she’ll get nothing done. This isn’t baseball. Hockey isn’t a slow game.
I reach across the car, snatch his phone, hopefully before he’s hit send. I toss it in the back of the car.
“Come on, Coop.” He unbuckles and worms himself across the console to get his phone off the floorboards. Jaxon laughs maniacally, buckling himself back in. “Nice try, but it sent.”
We’re passing another rec center on campus. Congregated out front is the baseball team. I immediately spot Zach, his Lakeland baseball hat flipped backwards. He’s smiling and talking to Sutton.
My face must fall—the outward expression of my heart and stomach plummeting through the seat, out of the car, and being dragged behind us—because Jaxon comments on it.
“It’s nothing, man, I promise.” She has her tote bag hanging off one shoulder, books in her arms. “Isn’t her apartment down the street from here. She was probably walking home and being nice.”
I slow down, turn off the music, and because I want to torture myself, I roll down my window. Her voice is carried by the breeze, a sweet sound that fills my car.
“I’ll see you around,” Zach tells her.
“Bye, Zach,” her voice echoes.
“Stop listening,” Jaxon whispers, even though he’s leaning closer to me to also eavesdrop.
“Let me know what time works for you on Monday.” She nods. “Bye, Sutt.”
Jaxon rolls up the windows as I stare in the rearview mirror. Sutton is walking away from Zach, both becoming smaller the further I drive. I try to focus. What’s Monday? Since when has he called her Sutt? The parking lot to the arena is the next left, but I take a second, third, fourth peek at them.
“Coop.” Jaxon jostles my right shoulder. “Cap. Dude, don’t worry about him. He’s not the one wearing her number.”
