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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Getting makeup applied in the girls' bathroom—a first, for the record—unlocked a level of embarrassment I didn't know existed. I was surprised my skin didn't burn off. One touch from the tip of her finger left my lower lip tingling. It wasn't sexual or even romantic energy, but gentle and kind. My cheeks warmed whenever I thought about it, and my whole face broiled hotter the longer I hid in a stall, which, for the record, was a first. I sent up every prayer not to trigger the automatic flush, bracing the door and expecting someone to bang it open.
A lack of urinals and a much, much better smell dulled the fact my feet straddled a toilet. I couldn't see Paige's bulky clothes but heard more than enough. My hands pressed so hard at the meanness in the other girls' voices in how they teased her, I was surprised I didn't break the door hinges.
Bullies.
Caden Stratton should know better. He didn't throw the gum in Paige's hair, but he let it happen. He was nice enough when Santa Cruz wiped his team off the field, but the quarterback set the tone on and off the field. His arm was decent, but he threw to decent receivers. Good receivers made decent quarterbacks great, which was my exact plan heading into tryouts. I just had to get there without beating someone's ass for picking on Paige.
Woah, where did that idea come from? I'd never beat anyone up.
More than curiosity and feeling sorry for her, she caught my attention. My gut clenched when the kids in English talked about her 'weird, ugly condition' and laughed behind her back. She wasn't even in that class to defend herself. Not that I did, slumping in my seat and staring past the edge of my desk. Paige's business wasn't mine, but what did she mean about relating to concealing herself? Why was she crying? I squirmed at my too-small desk.
In one day, I already witnessed too much bullying. This school was full of cowards picking on undeserving people, treating them like shit so they looked or felt better. Paige drew the most, with people laughing at her, shoving her, or throwing gum in her hair. They didn't deserve to breathe air. Hopefully, no one here found out about the incident I suffered through.
The bathroom bitches were in two of my classes, second and fourth periods. Esperanza paid attention, but Cassidy twirled her hair and batted her lashes at my mentioning 'football team' while I tried not to puke. Layla the gum thrower, equally hot and annoying, calculated something behind those icy-blue eyes in English. Their attention made my cheeks warm and my skin crawl.
Third period's pre-calc was one bright exception to my dull morning. One pair of eyes avoided me, that pretty blue-green hiding behind her long, straight, pink hair. Most girls couldn't stop looking at me as a persona, cocky and confident on and off the field. They'd see my side on the field very soon. How long before I disappointed them off it? I wasn't sure.
To Paige, I was empty airspace. She sat the same way during lunch, hidden and not looking at me. I sat across from her, hoping for more insight. Flashing the top of her head, she wasn't the same girl who invited me to sit with them. She was the only person who asked if I missed my friends. How shitty was 'not really' for an answer? Most were teammates, and dozens of insults on my phone revealed their real sentiments were caring more about losing my talent than me.
