This is it.
He’ll see me…He’ll smile—or wave—or something,anythingto acknowledge me.
But he doesn’t.
His eyes slide over me as he moves past…
As if I don’t even exist.
Chapter 11
Easton
“Wings or pizza?” Deshaun asks from the back seat of Marcus’s Jeep, feet pressing against the back of my passenger seat.
He and Gabe are debating the best post-practice snacks.
“Bro, it’s gotta be wings,” Gabe says, chewing a protein bar. “Nothing better than some spicy wings after working your assoff.”
Deshaun snorts. “Nah. Wings are messy as hell.”
Marcus turns to look at him, surprised. “You don’t like wings?”
I tune them out; their banter is just…noise. I rub a hand over my jaw, exhaling through my nose. My knee bounces, restless energy buzzing through me, and I clench my fists to stop it.
A sigh leaves my throat before I can help it, and Gabe leans forward to prod me. “You good, dude?”
I school my expression before he can dig any deeper. “Yeah.”
“Doesn’t sound like it,” Marcus says, glancing over at me. “You’ve been weird since practice. And why didn’t you say hi to Harper like I told you to? You were straight-up cold to her when we were at the lockers afterward. Macy says she’s totally into you!”
Was I being weird? This is news to me—but no surprise.
Ifeellike I’m being weird.
Deshaun makes a noise of agreement with a protein bar in his mouth, gnawing around its wrapper. “Bruh, you’re quiet as hell. That’s not like you.”
I roll my shoulders. “Just tired.”
It’s a weak excuse, but no one pushes.
I stare out the window some more, watching the blur of landscaping streak past. Marcus is right. I was being a dick…My fingers twitch with the urge to reach for my phone, to text Harper, to just say something.
But what the hell am I supposed to say?
Hey, sorry for acting like you were invisible?
Hey—I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit?
I wasn’t purposely being avoidant but now I can’t stop thinking about it?
I drag a hand down my face, frustrated with myself.
Harper has all the evidence of my crimes. I need to keep her on my good side, or our deal might blow up in my face. She could turn me in to the principal, and I’d lose everything: my scholarship, my future…all of it. And yet I chose to ignore her. Why? No idea.
Well, that’s not totally true. It’s just that I’ve never had a girl come watch me practice before and had no idea how to react to it. Seeing her there, staring at me behind the glass, it made me feel the same type of nerves as when the college scouts used to come to my games.
Something about her eyes following me as I skated across the ice just set me on edge. Probably because she’s blackmailing me. But still…
