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"You should have driven me to your place, I'm the only girl and Leo and Nate, the only non-football players, here..." I murmured in Tyler's ear, feeling totally out of place. Even Landon had gone someplace else for dinner.

"He did ask for our permission, Poppy..." Rosco, who was seated across from me, intervened, "So don't you worry..."

"What's that Adams?" A bulky boy I didn't know asked.

"Nothing, Man, Poppy here feels slightly out of place, being the only girl and all so I was telling her that we'd okayed it..." Rosco repeated pleasantly.

"We did Martins, we know how important you three are to Ty and Don Juan over there..." He motioned to Owen who was surrounded by three girls who seemed to be showing him... Their boobs?!

"What the hell is he doing?!" Rosco cut in.

"He must have launched some boobs competition again..." The bulky boy, whom I had yet to learn the name, answered his teammate. "So yeah, don't sweat it..." He was talking to me again. "And enjoy your dinner..." He added with a wink.

"Thank you." I muttered.

"That was Jonah Lorick, the captain of the defense team by the way..." Rosco told me with a smile. I smiled back at him and took a drink of my soda.

Loud voices echoed toward the front of the restaurant and all heads turned to see who they belonged to.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Roch Pri team, guys!" Clyde Laars said to the group of boys behind him. We may have occupied three long tables but they were just as numerous having probably come directly from their own game so unless they decided to sit into smaller groups on the other side of the restaurant, they would be sitting at the tables parallel to ours.

I felt Tyler and Nate stiffen on either side of me when Clyde, Max, Lance, Ollie and Tom finally reached our table and noticed mine and Nathan's presence amidst the RPH players.

"So that's where you've been hiding..." Clyde's animosity was hard to miss. "From the look of things, you seemed to have upped your game, from desperate puppy to an entire team's bitch..."

"Shut the f*ck up, Laars!" Tom hissed at the same time as my brother's chair fell down after he jumped to his feet and ran to my former school's quarterback.

Clyde's smirk vanished when he saw my brother's fist heading his way.

"You heard your friend, Clyde?!" Nate was so enraged that he truly looked scary and Clyde, who was still recovering from the first punch, took a small step back. "Shut the f*ck up." He mimicked Tom before punching the taller boy a second time. "Everybody knows that the only reason you're so bitter is because Pops's never returned your crush on her, so piss off."

Next to him, Max Shapiro sent me an apologetic look before saying, "Let's go to Patty's instead, guys..." and he then led a shameful Clyde out of our sight with his team on his heels.

Only Tom and Ollie remained standing there.

"You can piss off, too, Wilson!" Nate spat, his fists clenched to his sides. Owen walked to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Can I talk to you?" Tom ignored my brother.

"I'm pretty sure you've already told me everything you had to say to me three weeks ago, Tom..." I pointed out coldly.

"That's what I've been trying to talk to you about..." He said. "I-I don't know why I said all those things to you..." He paused. "No, that's a lie, I know exactly why I said them..." He corrected himself after throwing an uneasy glance toward Owen. "But what I'm trying to say is that I didn't mean any of it, Fizz." His use of my old nickname, the one only Cam and he used to call me, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, was what made me snap.

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