I shook my head.
“Whew.” Jenessa pulled back. “‘Cause I made the cutest reel to post tonight with Brielle watching you at practice. She practically worships you, Brooks Mason.”
Doubtful.
I tried to pay attention to class.
Physics was annoying, but Jenessa was worse.
“Trust your pitcher, Mason!”
Coach called to me from the dugout. I was distracted. I was distracted by Brielle and by my conversation with Jenessa. This was exactly why I’d never wanted to date anyone. It was adistraction.
I tucked my chin in, and as Reece’s next ball careened toward the plate, I kept my chest over the ball as it slammed into my glove.
“Strike!”
“Good!” Coach called to me. “Work on sticking those pitches on the edge of the strike zone. We want to keep making them look like strikes, even if they’re not.” Then he turned to shout directions at Reece.
Hunter was batting, and he glanced over his shoulder at me as he waited for Coach to finish with Reece. “We’re going to have a good season. I can feel it.”
I hoped so.
Hunter continued. “This’ll be my first year playing with a girlfriend cheering for me too.” He grinned. “Claire’s pretty hot.”
I didn’t answer. If I nodded, it seemed impolite to Claire. If I shook my head, it seemed impolite to Claire. Mom told me girls shouldn’t be rated on a “hot” scale. That it objectified women. But I was willing to admit that I thought attraction was important—at least to a degree—but let’s face it, the only girl I really noticed anymore was Brielle. Especially her green eyes. Like grass. Or pine trees. Sometimes they looked blue too. Or gray. It sort of depended on what she wore.
Like today.
I glanced toward the metal bleachers. She sat with a textbook propped on her knees, doing homework, while she played the role of girlfriend so well she’d yet to miss watching one of my practices.
Today she was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt. Her hair was up on her head in a messy pile. She must have realized I was looking at her, ‘cause she lifted her head and smiled.
Yeah. That smile.
It was killer.
I looked back at Hunter. “My girlfriend doesn’t even miss a practice.” I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t a competition between Claire and Brielle regarding who was the better girlfriend, and yet, I didn’t mind my own moment to brag a bit.
Hunter snorted. “That’s ‘cause Briellebelievesin you!”
The guys were never going to let me live that one down. I didn’t dare tell Brielle. She’d feel bad.
When practice was over, Reece and I left the dugout and met up with Brielle, who, by this time, had her phone out and was chatting with her friend from Canada. If I were the jealous type, I’d feel a little threatened by Lia. I mean, she wasalwayson the phone with Brielle. But it wasn’t really my place to feel threatened.
It’s all pretend,I reminded myself.Remember that, Mason.
“You guys want to go get some french fries?” Reece pointed toward the fast-food restaurants.
“Sure,” Brielle said. She stuffed her phone in her back pocket. I knew that she hadn’t hung up on Lia.
The four of us—I had to remind myself to include Lia, so I didn’t forget she was eavesdropping from another country—headed to get fries. Once inside the restaurant, we realized we weren’t the only ones hanging out there.
As Brielle and I waited for our fries, the topic of our Lit project came up.
“Do you want to come over tonight and start working on the outline?” Brielle offered.
I thought about what was going on at home. Dad was gone. Mom would be working in her office. “Sure,” I replied.
