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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Two steps onto the campus I'd seen countless pictures of online were literal steps into my dreams. The arched details, red-tiled roofs, mature trees, and lush green lawns were so welcoming. Fluffy white clouds hung in a perfect blue sky.
I squeezed Brody's fingers and yanked his arm. "We're here!"
He laughed behind me. "We're here."
"Pretty campus." Mom gave a tight smile. "Explains the high tuition."
Cynthia, our very energetic tour guide, swept a hand ahead of her to showcase the expanses of green grass between sidewalks surrounding a circular hedge with a block S planted in red flowers. The senior Bio-premed major from Palo Alto was the perfect matchup, and I peppered her with questions. Biology—pure Bio—wasn't my favorite subject, but I almost floated away hearing about anatomy, stem cells, and cutting-edge research opportunities. I envied her gray sweatshirt.
"How about you?" Cynthia blinked at Brody, who'd been very quiet since we exited his mom's car.
Grace insisted on driving here. The trip wasn't to convince me to attend the school, but Mom, her, and Brody. He'd kept his college choices quiet, listening to my aimless rambling all week with an amused half-smile and no judgment.
The hour north of Scotts Valley location was perfect—close enough to rush home but far enough to rule out a surprise parental visit. The sites—the Quad, Hoover Tower, Memorial Church, and the Cantor Arts Center—were surreal.
"I don't know," Brody admitted and ran his hand through his hair. "Hoping for an athletic scholarship."
Cynthia's eyes lit up. "My roommate is here on a volleyball scholarship. Which sport do you play, Brody?"
"Football and baseball." He adjusted the giant bag he insisted on carrying across his back and checked the time on his phone for the twentieth time. "Forty minutes. I should go change."
"We'll escort you to the sports center complex." Cynthia pointed to a large cluster of buildings on our right, including what I assumed was the football stadium. "The baseball team is good, but football needs all the help it can get. Who are you meeting with?"
"Uhh..." Brody checked his phone. "Coach Sterling for football, Coach Dikus for baseball, and Director Anderson for...I dunno."
"Anderson?" She blinked.
"Is that bad?" I asked. The Stanford recruiter attended all of Brody's games so far, but hopefully, they were serious about him. They'd better be, or I would knock sense into them. For the first time since my parents could remember, Scotts Valley was in the playoffs.
All thanks to Brody.
"You must be pretty high on their radar to meet with AD Anderson." Cynthia gave him an envious smile. "My roommate's never met him."
Brody didn't respond. He projected calm confidence, but unease was building in his averted gaze. His palm pumped heat and sweat into mine, and I wished I could send all my positive vibes and support through the connection.
