“Are you sure they got your name right on the soccer roster? Shouldn’t it say ‘Jackass’ instead of ‘Jackson’?”
Jack smirked, and I almost smiled in anticipation of his comeback. “You’d know about the roster, huh? Stalking me at my games? What? Miss me at the dry cleaners?”
Well, fuck. I didn’t have an answer for that. I still wasn’t sure why I’d gone to that game last week.
Jack blinked just before his barely there smirk melted into impassive.
“Finish your shit. I’ve got an exhibition match after school.” Jack bent over to grab the bale I’d launched at him, then stood with a snap of his spine and barked, “You better not fucking be there either. I don’t need you fucking up my game with your vibes,Princess.”
His words played over in my mind as I got back to work. It was as if he was asking me to be there by insulting me about it. The ole reverse-psychology thing. If I truly wanted to mess with him, then I’d show up. So why even say that to give me the idea? Unless he wanted me there, and he was putting that idea in my head. Plus, he told me he’d notice if I were there.
Jesus, when did I start analyzing everything to death? Fuck.
A loud whistle sounded across the field. Jack and I turned at the same time Trent waved us toward him. Seconds ticked before either of us moved. Making it a race flashed in my mind, but ultimately, I was too trapped in my headspace to fight about it. If he wanted towinby getting there quicker, fine.
Only he didn’t seem to want to.
Both of us dragged our feet toward Trent, who was beaming an insane sort of smile our way. He enjoyed this too much.
“In the basement, you’ll find the pieces to the archway that mark the entrance to the festival.” He tossed a set of keys at Jack. “Lock it up when you leave.”
“What does it look like?” Jack asked.
“Like an archway broken into pieces,” Trent said with a tone that implied the silent “duh” at the end.
Jack shook his head as he pivoted on his heels, then marched toward the school. I followed a few paces behind, his words stillcircling my mind. I hadn’t planned on going to another game, but now I kinda wanted to.
Classes were in session, so we didn’t encounter anyone as we took the stairs to the basement. Several doors were labeled in the dimly lit hallway. We passed maintenance and electrical before coming to a third door markedStorage.
Jack opened his palm with the ring of keys on top of it and glanced from it to the doorknob. “Why aren’t they labeled? How the fuck do we know which one it is?”
“Really?” I snatched the keys from his hand, then studied the lock. “You look for the brand and the color.” The confidence in my words was much stronger than I felt. I searched the ring for a dark brass one. There were two that could fit. When the first one unlocked the door, I lifted a brow at Jack that said, “Told ya.” In all actuality, I was thanking the fates the key hadn’t been copied and wasn’t one of the twenty generic ones on the ring instead.
Jack shoved past me into the dark room. The scent of his sweat was tinged with the sweet smell of hay and the last efforts of his cologne, filling my lungs with a satisfying musk when I took a much larger inhale than the situation called for. He stopped at the edge of the light created from the open doorway, and I patted down the wall to the right until I found the switch.
Rows of various decorations lined the large room. Most of them I’d never seen before, but a few from last year’s prom I remembered, and some I’d noticed at football games. There were about six rows of metal shelving on each side. The first few were labeled, but whoever had organized the space must’ve given up on that idea.
“It’s a pretty solid arch.”
“I know what an arch is,” Jack said.
“You sure? You had to ask Trent.”
“Shut up,” he mumbled and walked farther in.
The thing was about as tall as I could reach when put together. Jack checked the aisles, but it wouldn’t fit on any of the shelves. Some larger pieces were stacked against the wall, so I meandered that way. The light wasn’t as bright at the far end. I toed a few boxes around when I didn’t immediately see it.
“This it?”
“No” was already on my tongue, but when I turned, Jack had found it. On the top shelf of the last row of shelves were the two pieces of the archway. “Wonder whose bright idea it was to put it there,” I said.
“Trent’s.”
I snorted at what was as good a guess as any. “This will suck to get down.”
Without much choice, I stepped closer and climbed the shelving. The industrial-grade unit was solid andshouldhold. The metal groaned when my full weight was on it.
“Maybe I should be up there, fat ass.”
