“The guy at the counter,” Evie says before I can answer. “He was very into our Tessa.”
“He was not,” I respond.
“Pretty sure he was if he asked for your number,” Quint says. “That’s how it works with guys.”
I roll my eyes. “I know all about how it works with guys.” It goes quiet in the van, and I think about how I sounded just then. “Okay, that didn’t come out right. I just meant I know what it means when a guy asks for your number.”
I feel Slater’s gaze on me, and I finally turn to him. “You get a lot of guys asking for your number?” he asks in a low voice.
I scoff. “No. He wasn’t really interested,” I say, trying to deflect.
“Um, pretty sure he was, Tess,” Evie pipes up from the front seat.
Thankfully, the conversation finally moves away from me. I check my notifications on my phone and get settled for the long drive back. I think we’ve finally moved on, but Slater surprises me like twenty minutes later. “What kind of a name is Stuart anyway?”
I sigh in exasperation. “Oh, my word. Why can’t everybody just let it go?” Needing a new topic of conversation, I direct my attention to Reid. “So, Reid, when’s your next basketball game?”
He turns his head towards me. “Tuesday.”
“What about the football boys?” Quint asks. “We’re the ones playingrealsports.”
“You guys have your first playoff game next weekend, right?” I ask.
“Yep,” Zane and Quint both confirm at the same time.
“I cleared my work schedule for it. Did you, Tessa?” Evie asks.
“Of course. I had it cleared months ago.”
“You weren’t even working security months ago,” Evie counters.
“Exactly. So, when I went in, I let them know exactly when I needed off.”
“And they gave it to you? I’m surprised; I have to work so hard to get time off at the coffee shop.”
“Well, I think they were desperate; that probably played into it. Anyway, I am free for the big game next Saturday. We will be there with our jerseys on and our signs,” I tell her with full confidence.
“Wait, what?” Evie asks. “We’re making signs?”
“Of course we’re making signs. It’s a playoff game. I've been dreaming about being at one as a college student for as long as I can remember.”
“You’ve always been a fan?” Quint asks me.
“My mom and stepdad both attended FMU. It’s crazy; they didn’t actually meet each other in college. They met later in life. My older brother went here as well. It’s in my blood.”
Slater turns to me. “You know our quarter finals are next Friday, right?”
I scoff. “Of course, I know. I’m hoping to change my schedule, so I can make it to that one as well.”
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Quint says turning all the way around in his seat, so he can look at me. “You asked for time off for our football playoff games, but you didn’t take off for the soccer ones?” His grin nearly stretches off his face. “Oh, this is good. Sorry, Slate. I think this proves that football is the superior sport.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he responds.
“Actually,” I chime in. “I asked for soccer as well, but they wouldn’t let me take off for that because two people had already taken off Friday night.”
“Guess soccer is right back on top,” Slater says.
“You’re both wrong. Everybody knows basketball is where it’s at. Anybody ever heard of March Madness?” Reid adds.
