“Curves. Speed bumps. Narrow parking spaces. On the driver’s test they make you park between these really narrow lines so it’s good to practice.”
“We’re not doing all that today, are we?”
“No.” He chuckles. “We’ll start with the basics and go from there.”
My phone dings. I check it and see a text from Shayla. I texted her earlier, asking if she wanted to hang out sometime.
How about Saturday?she texts.
I text her back.
That works. Call you later this week.
“The boyfriend?” Jackson asks, noticing me texting.
“No, it’s a friend. Actually I just met her but I’m hoping she’ll be a friend.”
“How’d you meet her?”
“She’s Maria’s daughter. Brock’s maid. She filled in for her mom last week and we started talking. Hey, maybe you know her. She goes to your school.”
“What’s her name?”
“Shayla.”
“Don’t know her. Is she a senior?”
“Yeah. Long dark hair. Shorter than me but about my size. You sure you don’t know her?”
“It’s a big school. I don’t know everyone there.”
“She probably knows you.”
“Why would she know me?”
“Everyone knows the football players. And you’re really—” I almost saidhotbut stopped myself.
“I’m really what?” he asks, pulling into the parking lot.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head.
He parks in a spot and turns to me. “Tell me what you were going to say.”
“You’re really, um . . .” I search for a word that describes him. “Big. Tall. You stand out in a crowd.”
“I’m not the only big guy there. There’s guys even bigger than me on the team.”
“Really?”
“That’s why we’re so good. We have guys that look like they should be playing college ball. Some of them are already getting attention from recruiters.”
“What about you?”
“Can’t say.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
His eyes go to mine. “Not sure I trust you yet.”
