The whistle sounds, and Zev and Lucca charge my way. Zev wraps one arm around my shoulders while Lucca pats my back.
“That must have been a good kiss, Superman,” Lucca says.
I stiffen, but Zev’s arm tightens around me. “Let it go,” he says. “You scored twice tonight, don’t let Lucca ruin it.”
He’s right. So, I fuel all that adrenaline into elation over our win.
We take time, shake hands with the opposing team, and Coach says a few words— though I’m not sure I hear them all. I’m peeking back at the stands, at Fran. She’s still there, waiting with Rosalie. I’m anxious and want to run over to seeher before she heads back to Reno. It was kind of her to come. I know she worked this morning, and I know she has a paper due in a few days for her English class.
Guys sprawl out over the green, talking, laughing, removing their cleats. Some are already on their way to the locker room, while others greet their families or significant others.
I jog across the field and hop onto the cement step—so much adrenaline coursing through me.
“Nice game,” Rosalie says.
“Yeah. That was…incredible.”
Rosalie nudges Fran’s side, and she stumbles forward a step. “What?” she hisses to her friend. “It was. Did you not see his goals?”
A laugh rumbles in my chest, and I find I’m talking before I’m thinking things through. “Hey, do you want to come to dinner with the team?”
“Hi, Rosalie!” Zev calls, waving to Fran’s friend as he heads toward the tunnel.
I glance up to Rosalie, who purses her lips and waves back at Zev.
“So, dinner?” I say. I can’t take the words back now. Not that I would, but I might as well follow through.
“With the team?” Fran asks.
“I’m her ride,” Rosalie says, now that Zev’s out of sight.
I nod. “No worries. I can get her home.”
Fran’s blush has a switch. I’m not always sure what triggers the pink in her cheeks, but if I talk long enough, a blush will produce, and it’s quickly becoming one of my favorite things. It’s my goal to see how often her face will redden whenever I’m with her.
“What do you say?” I ask.
With her hands on the wall separating us, her entire body rocks. She grins that smile like the sunshine and says, “Okay. I’m in.”
“I have to change and text my mom, then I’ll be right out.”
“Text your mom?” Fran says with a grin.
“Keep your shirt on,” Rosalie grumbles. “It’s just a text.”
“Yeah—” I’m not completely following the route of this conversation, but I explain myself anyway. “She’s watching from home. Spring is my dad’s busy season. They’ll make more games in the summertime.”
“That’s nice,” Fran says, her hands gripping the top of the half wall between us.
“Oh, brother,” Rosalie whines. “Just go. I promise to leave her right here for you. Please don’t lose her or accidentally seduce her.”
I cinch my brows, confused. “Accidentally?—”
“Just go. I’ll wait here.” Fran waves me off this stoop, still beaming.
In the locker room, I snatch up my phone, first thing. Mom’s probably wondering why it’s taken me so long as it is. There’s already a flood of texts waiting for me.
Dad: Great game, son.
