“I want to pass this stupid class,” I say, walking past him toward the living room to flop on the couch.
Aside from this class determining my eligibility with the team, if I don’t pass it, I won’t graduate. I refuse to disappoint Momma when it’s the one thing she’s asked of me after everything.
I’m aware Alondra is my best bet at making it through this course, but I’ve never had to work this hard to get someone to like me. She begrudgingly gave me her number before I left, making me swear I wouldn’t use it for anything other than changes in my tutoring schedule. But it’s a good thing I wasn’t a scout.
I found Alondra on social media, but her accounts are private, and I doubt she’d accept a request from me. I did end up tracking down the other roommate’s account through Ellie’s, and thankfully, Macy didn’t ignore my direct message asking how Al takes her coffee so I could bring a cup for her yesterday.
I barely got a smile from her.
I can’t figure Alondra out, and it’s equally as frustrating as it is intriguing.
A part of me enjoys the fact that she isn’t fawning over me like most of the girls I meet, because as much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m not the best at platonic relationships with women. I’m afraid that option might already be out of the question for us, though, considering I can’t seem to push our kiss out of my mind.
She’s stubborn, insisting it was only a three, but the way her breathing hitched tonight whenever my arm brushed against hers, tells a different story. It makes me think our kiss felt the same way for her as it did for me, even if I can’t quite figure out how it makes me feel.
I had every intention of leaving her alone after finding out that Alondra is Ellie’s roommate and Coach’s daughter, but thenI walked into class and saw her sitting with her friend. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself taking the open seat next to her.
Sure, an explanation for why she lied about her name would be nice, but I can’t fault her for not telling me exactly who her father is. It’s not like I openly share that information myself.
I wish I knew what it was about her that’s gotten under my skin.
First, I asked for her number at the bar, something Ineverdo. Then, I practically had to beg her to tutor me.
What I really don’t understand is why Alondra thinks she’ll be in trouble if Coach B finds out about the kiss. She’s his daughter, and I’m just one of his players, but my fear of failing Comp II again outweighs my fear of Coach B for the time being.
A pillow lands on my face, pulling me from my thoughts. Dylan’s laughter echoes off the walls, and I throw it back at him. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“Because I’ve been talking to you, but you’re in la-la land thinking about your tutor,” he jests, and I flip him off.
“Wrong. I was thinking about your mom,” I retort, just as the front door opens, and Nate walks in.
“Whose mom are we talking about?” he asks without skipping a beat.
“Dylan’s.”
He raises an eyebrow, kicking off his shoes. “Why? Yours is hotter,” Nate says, and I wish I hadn’t thrown the pillow back at Dylan already, so I could throw it at him instead.
“Really? That’s my mom, Baxter.”
My mom had me right after her eighteenth birthday, and I’m used to her being the youngest of my friends’ mothers, but it’s weird hearing my friends talk about her, even if I’m the one who opened the door by making a comment about Dylan’s mom.
Nate puts his hands up in self-defense when Coop walks into the living room, and I try to gauge exactly how upset he is with me right now. Unfortunately for me, Coop can be like a brick wall when he wants to be.
“Don’t mind Jack. He’s stressed because Coach’s daughter is his tutor, and he kissed her at Twin City last Friday night,” Dylan says, and I flip him off. He has no room to talk when I’ve seen how he looks at Coop’s sister, but that’s one of those things I pretend not to see, especially because he seems determined to use every other girl on campus to fuck Ellie out of his system without actually touching her.
“No fucking way,” Nate says, laughing, and I’m about done with everyone finding my situation hilarious.
“You guys are annoying,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest as I lean back into the cushions.
“Find new friends then,” Coop suggests, and Dylan chuckles.
“He shouldn’t have a problem with that. Everyone wants to be Jack’s friend,” he says, and Nate snorts.
“Depends on what your definition of friend is, Dylan. Girls want Jack as their boyfriend or fuck buddy, not their friend.”
As much as I deny it, he’s not wrong. It should be flattering, but it gets old being seen as a piece of meat. Probably also doesn’t help that I play into it all the time because it’s easier than trying to convince everyone that I’m more than a one-trick pony.
No wonder Alondra seemed so sure I didn’t have any girl friends.
