I might be cuddled next to Burton, and I’m not mad about it.
CHAPTER 25
BURTON
I’m up early the next morning, trying to prepare for the long day ahead. I keep glancing at Laney’s house, hoping she’ll make an appearance as I run back and forth along our street.
It was fun talking to her about all the aspects of lacrosse, and I was grateful her eyes didn’t glaze over hearing about it. She listened and asked questions, connecting the details I’d already talked about with the plays.
When she fell asleep, she laid her head on my shoulder and kind of cuddled up to my side. The guys silently made fun of me, pretending they were playing a game of charades of me and Laney kissing.
Do I want that to happen? Absolutely. Just not where my roommates can see.
I haven’t even gotten the chance to ask her about the Skittles yet. Laughing, I shake my head. Not that I should put everything on a few green-colored candies.
I finish my workout with no sign of Laney, so I head inside and shower. Clark is already in the kitchen, making what looks like an extensive meal with pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
“Are you trying to carbo-load for tomorrow or something?” I ask, smiling at him.
Clark’s expression is focused, and he shakes his head. “I thought I’d make breakfast for the house. That way we’ll have enough energy to give to the fans today.”
I didn’t think of it that way, but I appreciate the gesture.
“Remind me that I need to get some toaster waffles before we come home tonight.”
Shaking his head, Clark says, “You haven’t kicked that habit yet?”
Grinning, I say, “Remember what happened in the championship game last year? Jackson ate my waffles, and we lost.”
Clark rolls his eyes. “Dude, we’ve lost even when you’ve eaten them.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because”—I shake my head, not sure if I should show the nerdy side of myself this early in the morning—“it just is.”
We have a lively discussion at breakfast with the roommates and then all head out to the field. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to chat with them and not be completely wiped out from everything going on in my life.
Once we get to the field, I’m impressed with the transformation of the opening gate already. I can’t imagine what it’s going to look like inside.
There’s a large balloon arch that’s being set up, and then there are posters of all of us, big ones, with our names and numbers at the bottom. That’s probably a good idea so if the people don’t know who we are, they can figure it out easily enough. There are a few blow-up slides and several booths along the field.
I pick up a stick and a ball, slinging it toward the large tarp. The speed on the screen says eighty-five. That’s not terrible.
“This is incredible,” Stack says.
“I’m surprised they did it for us,” Finny says, turning in a full circle.
“What do you mean by that?” Clark asks.
Finny shrugs. “Lacrosse isn’t the biggest sport out West. So doing somethinglike this to support us, well, I’m touched.” He holds a hand to his chest and gives a fake sobbing face.
He’s right. Many of the sports are probably used to the fanfare and the big events, but in the six years I’ve been playing in the PLL, I’ve never experienced anything like this.
Clark folds his arms over his chest. “Maybe we didn’t ask before. Us coming to them with an idea?—”
“Your idea,” I say with a laugh.
