I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 78: Ellie

"So, Eleanor, Jake, Logan, you're all from California?"

A pair of blue eyes blinked at me from under her heavy eye makeup. I wasn't the most fashionable person, especially with makeup, but the woman stared at us with what looked like blue shadow painted high into her upper eyelids and black wingtip-shapes drawn at the corners.

Tall, thin, and dressed in a black, fitted power suit that supported her subtle curves and contrasted her extremely blonde hair, Rachel Sorenson carried herself with a straight spine, sharp eye gaze that flicked mostly at Jake, and, according to Mr. Reynolds, a weird habit where she switched question topics back and forth. I wasn't sure if that was an interview tactic so she threw off me, Logan, and Jake but her approach certainly confused me.

We'd started the interview with literal introductions of ourselves, our names and majors at school, then season recap-related questions, which somehow led back into where we were from. The longer we continued, the more I felt like my mouth was stuffed with cotton balls.

I sat in between Logan and Jake on a small gray sofa that faced Rachel's casual chair, with a small glass-top coffee table and television screen hung on a wall between us, behind which was a green screen. On the other side of the room was an all-glass window that showcased Husky Stadium below.

Between the two cameramen, one aimed at Rachel and the other at our sofa, stood Mr. Reynolds. The gray in his hair was highlighted by the overhead lights, which also cast a glare over his frameless glasses, but his tall, slim frame and power suit exuded a quiet sense of authority. Harper leaned against the back wall, her arms crossed over her chest and eye daggers pointed straight at Rachel.

"Yeah." I nodded, then grabbed Logan's closest hand with my already damp palm. "Well, Jake and I are from California."

"Born and raised in Santa Cruz," Jake added with a slight nod, his eyes fixated on Rachel like they had been since she first walked into the room. An odd tension filtered through the air between them as her lips twitched up at the corners and one of her hand's fingertips patted her forehead lightly near her hairline.

Is she sweating? I'm sweating and we've asked one question.

"My family moved from Canada when I was twelve," Logan filled in his generic answer.

"From Sudbury?" Rachel asked and now I wondered why the hell she'd asked if she'd already known the answer.

"Yeah," he answered with a casual, even tone. It seemed sufficient since Rachel shifted her gaze to Jake, then back to Logan.

"Jake, you've previously mentioned you started football at seven, is that when you started playing Logan?" Rachel's perfectly styled, glossy-as-silk blonde hair slipped over her shoulder as her head tilted slightly. One of her red-soled black pumps twitched once, which distracted me just as much as her random question order and forehead pats.

"Seriously, more like twelve." Logan's calm voice filtered down at me. He swallowed lightly and to everyone else, he masked a polite smile but I knew better. "A year after we moved here."

His dad's drinking problems.

"So after you moved here at eleven," Rachel pressed, which Logan nodded at. "Your mom raised you as a single Mom, while your Dad had your younger brother, Brody?"

"No." Logan frowned, paused for a moment, then answered, "Our parents had shared custody of both of us."

"But you moved two years to the States after your Dad and brother," she stated, not asked and Logan just nodded silently again. "And you don't share the same last name as your brother?"