“Sawyer or Foster?” I say to Callum, trying to get him to debate with us.
“Whoa,” Zev says. “I never said I’d pick Foster over Sawyer, I just said he was a beast. Don’t go telling tales to Sawyer. He’ll crush me.”
“Yeah, he will.” I sit back. “’Cuz our boy is the beast.”
Zev groans. He opens his mouth, but Callum beats him to the punch.
“Lucca, why am I getting text messages for you?” He holds up his phone.
Zev leans over me to read the message, but I snatch the phone from Callum’s hand.
It reads:
For Lucca
Saturday 1:00
141 Blue Bird Rd
Canyon Falls, CA
(P.S. Don’t give Lucca my number.)
“Who’s that from?” Zev asks.
I already know. She said she’d text Callum the details. She refused my number. Even after the game, when I tried to give it to her.
“Maggie McCrae,” Callum says, before I can comment, to which Zev busts up laughing.
“What’s going on with you and Maggie?” Callum leans back, crossing his arms and scowling.
I groan like she’s really putting me out. But Maggie McCrae is an oddity. The more I know her, the more curious I become. “She asked me to stop by her nephew’s birthday party.” I tilt my head. “Apparently, I’m his favorite Red Tail.”
Zev scoffs. “And you’re going?”
“Wait, do you like her now?” Callum peers over at me, glancing down once at the phone in my hand.
My turn to scoff. “I wouldn’t go that far. We all participate in community service.” I lift one shoulder, like this is just part of the job. Like I’m not itching to go to a kid’s party so I can talk to Maggie again.
“Community service?” Callum deadpans.
“She lives in Canyon Falls.” Zev reaches into the bowl of pretzels on my coffee table and tosses one back. “Not exactly our community.”
“Hey, we have fans all over the place. I’m just nurturing that. Besides, that’s where we mentored the Little League teams.”
“Well… how…thoughtfulof you,” Callum says. He reaches out, taking the phone from my hand.
“I am quite thoughtful.” I pick up the bowl of snacks on my coffee table and rest it in my lap. “It would be easier if she’d just texted me, though.”
“Ha. Nice try.” Callum shoves his phone back into his pocket.
Over the next forty minutes, I think about that text message. Maggie McCrae dislikes me enough to ensure I don’t end up with her number. However, she loves her nephew enough to make sure I’m at his party.
Curious. And a little intriguing. I’m reminded of the time Vovó sat and watched my club game in a storm. The wind blew and the rain fell, and while my grandmother hated getting cold at any degree, she sat in that storm and watched until the end. Because she loved me.
And sure, maybe I do dislike Maggie a little less than I did a year ago, or even at the beginning of this season. But I’m not ready to admit that yet.
When the game ends—the Forge slaughtered the Rhinos, three to zero—Callum and Zev stand to leave. But how can I letCallum go with my text still in his possession? He has Maggie’s contact information. I don’t. And it’s eating away at me.
