A shy high school senior jock and a closed-off girl battling an immune disorder fake a relationship to win a social media contest.
Being shy isn't easy, especially when you're the new kid at school. Scotts Valley's football program is subpar compare...
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With Thursday's lunch in hand, I slammed into a tall, hard body. Pain bit the tip of my nose as it smashed into a chest. I inhaled a nose full of musky perspiration, natural skin, and...an acrid, charred smell. I knew that smell. I created that smell, countless times to the point my nose differentiated between burned sugar and chocolate and came home with it permeating through my clothes. This version had a mix of plastic, but why did he smell like smoke? Gasping was a bad idea. My eyes burned, and I tipped my head back to a familiar face. "Brody?"
"Woah." His cracking voice filtered down through the soup my brain turned into. Concern filled his eyes faster than the itch spreading up my nose and tears welling up in mine. "What happened?"
"Allergies." I wiped my eyes and held my hand over my nose. "Why do you smell like smoke?"
"My mom cooked," Brody said, offering no trace of amusement in his expression and voice. An equally unamused look hung in his eyes. Was his mom the reason he was in Home Ec?
His empty hands implied he bought lunch, as he did every day. Technically, he bought two lunches because of his appetite, but I hadn't seen Brody since his tryouts. He disappeared during lunch hour and went straight to practice after the last period. In the non-elective classes we shared, he smiled but sat in the far corner. Brody turned into the male version of me. Quiet, head down, and isolated, but I had Xavi and Vi. Who did he have? And why had he decided not to sit with us anymore? Something must have happened after his tryouts.
"Yeah?" I should've taken the hint Brody didn't want to be friends, that he'd come to his social senses, but I couldn't. On a superficial level, he would never suffer my torment, but I knew the loneliness of isolation. He wouldn't want that for the whole year. Maybe he needed to see some kindness. "You're welcome to join us for lunch. Sounds like a funny story."
He dragged a hand through his hair, pulling it off his forehead. "No, thanks. See ya later."
I forced a tight smile at the back of his head, stooping on his path to the cafeteria exit. "Yeah, sure." Guess that was that. What happened to him? The entire school still buzzed about his tryouts three days ago. He put on a show, smoking the offensive team and special teams. I saw it with my own eyes.
I almost tripped over my feet when loud voices rang across the field. Bounding with the energy of a herd of Labradors, the football team made their way to the sidelines in their practice gear. The starters wore relaxed shoulders, blue shirts, and black pants. Newbies in different colored gear glanced around as if they expected an ambush.
Caden flexed his biceps. Show-off. I rolled my eyes and clenched my teeth. He lifted his arm, making my blood chill when he wrapped it around Brody's shoulders. By their shared laugh, he assimilated. With ruddy cheeks and his chin tucked, Brody looked like he wanted to blur into the background. His gaze met mine, holding such a hardened look that I shivered.
Did I say something? Do something?
"It's for the best," Violet's sympathetic voice matched the sad look in her eyes. "Can't make him want to be friends, Paige."
