My heart fluttered, and a tornado of butterflies swarmed my gut, slowing my brain down to try and find the right words. Did I saywhat’s up,or was that too late? We’d been together for three hours, but the girls were the focus.
Focus on Gabby.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”
“We don’t know what’s waiting at home, and I’d prefer to make sure Gabby and you are safe. No big deal.” He spoke with an air of authority, like there was no way I could defy him.
“Okie dokie, artichokie.”
Oh my god.
This was not good. This was the ultimate dork status, and I closed my eyes, groaning. Maybe if I pretended it didn’thappen, he would too. Avoiding his gaze, I jogged to Gabby. “Ready to head home?”
“Yes, Coach.”
We exited the stadium, me still not acknowledging Dean’s presence, as Gabby gabbed a lot. She talked about her three younger brothers, her mom, and her sister but never her dad. She wanted to be a pro soccer player and help her mom out, but it was hard when she never had a ride to practices or money for cleats.
She took us down four blocks before turning to an alley. It wasn’t creepy, but I didn’t like how secluded it was. “Gabs?”
“Yes, Coach?”
“If you can be ready early tomorrow, I’ll walk here to get you first. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“We can talk strategy.” I shared a look with Dean, who frowned at the surroundings. I noted the garbage and evidence of people drinking. Crates and cigarette butts covered the ground as she turned right.
“That would be fun. I don’t mind walking myself though. It’s an easy walk.”
She led us to a small house with toys in the yard. TV noise carried through the window, a woman’s angry voice coming too. “I told you to get off the damn table!”
“That’s Mom.” Gabby sighed. “See you guys tomorrow!”
“See you soon, raccoon!” Dean said, a coy little smile on his face as he watched me. His smirk grew.“Okie dokie, artichokie. Are you a child?”
“What are you referring to? I have no recollection,” I said, my tone accidentally taking on a British accent. Another thing I didn't mean to do when I was a liar.
“Once in a while, crocodile.” He snickered at himself as he held out his arm, gesturing to me to go first. “You’re a dork.”
“I’m well aware of that, thank you.” I held my head high. I figured most people were dorks, but society determined thatfootballwas just always cool. It was honestly bullshit. There were diehard Star War fans and Lord of the Rings stans who played sports. It was cool to be passionate about something, and my passions were just smells, soccer, and social media.
“Hey.” He nudged his shoulder against mine, the contact of our bare skin sending alarm bells in my body at red alert.
Boy! Boy! Boy! Touching! Touching!
“Hm?” I cleared my throat, eyeing my empty water bottle. Worthless.
“You can have some of mine.” He held out his, our fingers doing some weird flirty tango again.
I took a swig, definitely not thinking about our weird transitive property of kissing. Technically, his mouth touched the end, then mine did, so our mouths…get ahold of yourself!
“I was teasing, you know, about you being a dork. I like how you talk to the girls. It’s refreshing. At their age, I had coaches ripping into me. It should be about fun and focus, sure, but seeing them get excited about soccer? That was some real shit.”
“It makes me so happy. I love how so many of the soccer players now are talking about the league and being role models. The shut up and dribble thing makes me so angry because as humans, we look up to our athletes as who we want to be. If I’m going to enter that world, I want to do my best to be someone they are proud of.” My eyes prickled again, this time from passion. “I realize I sound–”
“Incredible.” He laughed and nudged my arm again. “You’re sneakily wise, Mallinson. I know your secret now.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”I fought the urge to smile, very content with Dean learning everything about me. The lilt of his voice,the way he leaned into me… yeah, big fan of Dean knowing my secrets.
