“What’s up, drama queen?” I sign.
Shecomplains about our parents grounding her because she missed curfew last weekend.
“What do you expect?” I sign with a shrug. “Do the crime, do the time.”
She scowls. “Jonathon Crawley invited me to watch a movie at his place tonight. I’m hoping he’s going to invite me to the formal.”
“So, tell him you can come over next week.”
“What if he asks someone else before then?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“Are you insane?” Amelia shakes her head, her blue eyes shining with tears. “That’s so desperate. Please, Zac. He’s the hottest guy in our year level, and this is my only chance. Why won’t you help me?”
Taking pity on my sister, I scruff her hair. “Okay,” I sign. “I’ll talk to Mum and Dad.”
She swats me away, grinning now. “Don’t mess my hair, jerk.”
“You mean the hair you’ve spent hours straightening?” I tease.
She signs something rude, then laughs.
I arch a brow, zipping my bag closed and slinging it over my shoulder before signing, “Watch it. You’re the one asking me for a favour, remember.”
She sticks her tongue out and says, “Good luck for the game tonight.”
I pause at the door, a smile tugging at my lips. “Thanks. Try not to get grounded again before I’m back, okay?”
She rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone, no doubt texting Jonathon.
I went to high school with his older sister, and he seems like a nice enough guy, so I’m happy to help her out. She deserves someone who’s going to give her the chance to be a normal teenager.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long to convince Mum and Dad. True to form, my sister had thrown a full-blown hissy fit after being told she couldn’t go, but once I explained it was just a movie and that Jonathon seemed like a decent guy, they relented. Mum softened first. Dad didn’t relent until I promised to call Lauren and make sure her brother knows he’ll have to deal with me if he does anything to hurt Milly.
Not wanting to leave my car in the university car park overnight, Ritter swings by to pick me up, music thumping through the speakers of his Jeep. I toss my bag in the back and climb in beside Blake, who’s arguing with Everett about who’s the greatest current manager in the English Premier League.
“Mate, it’s Guardiola. The man has built a dynasty at Man City. End of discussion,” Everett says, twisting in his seat to glare at Blake.
Our striker snorts. “Try doing what Glasner did with Crystal Palace. He took a mid-table team to the top and turned decent players world class. That’s real management.”
I shake my head as I buckle my seatbelt. “You’re both wrong. Arteta’s changing the game with his set-piece tactics. The man’s a genius.”
Ritter chuckles from the driver’s seat. “Said by a true Arsenal fan.”
I shrug. “What can I say? The Gunners are elite.”
The Jeep fills with laughter as Ritter pulls away from my house. Conversation moves from the EPL to our overnight trip.
“You’d want to hope you’re not bunking with Dane,” Everett groans. “Coach put us together on the last trip because we’re the youngest on the team. The dude snores like a fucking freight train. I didn’t get a wink of sleep.” Helooks at me. “He’s your backup. You should have to put up with it.”
I flip him the bird.
“I’d rather put up with snoring than listen to another minute of Doyle’s mushy girlfriend talk,” Ritter says, pitching his voice high to mimic our centre-mid. “You hang up first. No you. I wuv you, too, baby girl.” He makes exaggerated kissing noises, and we all crack up.
Blake grins at me. “I’d happily bunk with you again, bro.”
“Same.” I hold my hand out and he slaps it in a high-five handshake.
