Page 18 of Playing with the Heartbreaker

“Okay, Mom. I’ll get a salad.” I take another bite. Pure bliss.

“And some protein,” says Charlotte, setting her tray down and tossing a wrapped chicken sandwich in front of me. “You’re cranky when you don’t eat enough protein.”

I hold up the sandwich and gawk. “You know, I was about to go up there. I can feed myself.”

“Chloe,” Charlotte says, “just let us love you.”

Anita snorts. “Please. And you’re easier to love when you’re well-nourished.”

Unwrapping the sandwich, I sigh. “I know, I know. Did you remember to grab⁠—”

Three packets of ketchup hit the table with a thwack. “Thanks.”

“As if I could forget,” Charlotte says. She rips open her salad dressing with her teeth and squeezes it over her plate of greens. “I still can’t believe he didn’t ask you out officially, like on a date. Coward.”

“I didn’t want him to.” I squeeze all three packets of ketchup onto my sandwich, then take a big bite, hoping the food will somehow make my words true.

“Then why do you look so glum?” Anita says.

“I’m not glum. Everyone knows Rhoads Simpson doesn’t date. Not seriously, anyway.” The mumbling does not help my case. I take another bite to cover it.

“Who says you have to get into a serious relationship?” Charlotte asks. “Just have fun for once. Go to a party, hold hands, kiss. Not everything has to be serious.”

“We just want you to be happy.” Anita shrugs.

Heat flares in my cheeks. “Soccer makes me happy.”

Anita holds up her hands in surrender. “Alright. I acquiesce. I won’t say another word.”

“I will.” Charlotte puts her hands on her hips. “He’s interested, Chloe. Take advantage of it. Oh, maybe at the soccer teams’ bonfire!”

My heart softens a little. Though just because Charlotte really wants a boyfriend doesn’t mean I have to. “I might skip that, actually.”

“What? Why?”

I shrug. “It’s not really my scene, you know? I don’t drink, and I’m not interested in playing dumb party games.”

Anita nods. “What are you going to do instead?”

“Probably run drills. Or maybe watch game tape if Coach Dixon will send me the files.”

Charlotte scoffs. “You’re going to waste away your prime high school moments in a dark room, alone, analyzing your stepsy-thingies?”

Anita and I both say, “Step-overs.”

“Whatever. Not the point.”

“I want a soccer scholarship, Char. I need to spend this time making sure I’m ready for the next Big Moment on the field, not watching soccer boys play flip-cup next to a cornfield.”

“Fine.” Charlotte’s gaze flicks to the back of the cafeteria, then immediately return to her plate. She stabs her lettuce with extra force.

I crane my neck to see what’s affected her mood, but I can’t figure it out.

“You’re going to have to get back out there sometime.” A spark flashes in Charlotte’s eyes. “Show yourself that Graham doesn’t have power over you anymore.”

“You’re not known for your temerity, but you can do it.” Anita adjusts her pink headband in her dark brown curls. She gives Charlotte a pointed look, even though her words are for me. “Whenever you’re ready, of course.”

When lunch ends, I’m still mulling Charlotte’s challenge over in my mind. I thought I was over Graham, that I’d sprinted and trained him out of my system, but am I making excuses because my heart is still broken?