“Hey, grumpy,” he says, tugging gently at my braids. “You look different today. Where’s my jersey? You mad at me or something?”
“Nope. Just didn’t feel like wearing it.”
“If you say so.” He scans my outfit with a crooked half-smile. “This is good too. You look hot.”
“Yeah right.”
“I’m serious.”
I tug at the hem of the sparkly red top, suddenly self-conscious. “You sure? I kind of feel like a sequined tomato.”
His gaze sweeps over me then fully, slow and deliberate, lingering on the strip of bare skin between my tube top and skirt. He doesn’t even try to hide it. When he swallows, thick and slow, I forget how to breathe.
“Jesus, Al…” His voice is low as his eyes flick back up to meet mine—darker now, unreadable. “You really don’t see it, do you?”
My pulse flutters in my throat.
“See what?”
A full beat passes. Then another. Until the air between us stretches taut, electric.
“How gorgeous you are.”
I freeze.
The world seems to shift around me, everything narrowing to the space between us. My heart thuds so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. And for a second, I wonder if?—
“Shotgun!”
Amber shatters the moment, sprinting past us and flinging herself into the front seat of Hayes’s G-Wagon. Argyros follows after her, barking madly, ears flopping as he skids to the back passenger door, waiting for Hayes to let him in. The dog and Amberexchange a brief look of mutual disinterest. Then both immediately pretend the other doesn’t exist.
“The dog’s coming in the car with us?” Mom asks, looking visibly uneasy.
“What, you thought he was riding on the roof?” I deadpan.
She gives me a withering look.
“No, I just… is he even allowed at the game?” she asks.
“He’ll stay in the car,” Hayes explains. “He just hates being left alone at my place.”
“Hm. I think I’ll take my own car, if that’s alright,” Mom says, already fishing out her keys from her purse. It’s not a question. She’s not about to share air with a hulking beast of a dog.
“I’ll ride with you,” I offer, following after her and hopping inside her old Toyota even though I’d much rather be in the G-Wagon with Hayes, curled up in the backseat with my dog. But this is my shot to patch things up with her. Earn back some goodwill. Truth is, maybe she’s not the only sensitive one in this family. I hate it when she’s mad at me too.
As Mom puts the car in drive, I glance back longingly at Hayes’s SUV. Amber leans into Hayes, laughing at something he just said. She tucks a strand of shiny blonde hair behind her ear, her whole body tilted toward him like she’s already picturing the wedding.
I huff and sink lower in my seat, my attention snagging on the black tourmaline charm swinging from Mom’s rearview mirror. It’s supposed to wardoff evil spirits. She gave me one once too—for protection—but it mysteriously “disappeared” after I tossed it in a trash can behind the school gym.
I glare at her stupid amulet now, dangling and useless.
Ward off evil, my ass.
If it actually worked, then why the hell was my sister still here?
After the Homecoming game is over, we wait outside the locker room for Hayes, along with the other families of the football team. The air hums with celebration. Students and fans rush past us, singing the LHU fight song at the top of their lungs and high-fiving each other like they personally threw all of Hayes’s touchdowns in the 47–0 shutout against Southern Cal State.
A few of Hayes’s Alpha Delta brothers spot Amber and call out, inviting her to go with them to the big Homecoming weekend dayger at the frat house tomorrow. She just giggles and waves them off. I get the sinking feeling she’s already planning to go with someone—Hayes.
