Page 17 of Kickoff

“And you’re not one of them?” Melinda asked from beside me, her tone clipped.

“I’m not what? Irresistible? Hot as hell?” I meant it as a joke, but it sounded pretentious as hell. I wouldn’t win any brownie points with stupid replies.

“No, Mr. My Ego Is Too Big For My Own Head. I meant a stupid and horny teenage boy doing idiocies.” She tipped her chin up, challenge swirling in her eyes.

“Maybe I am, but my dream to go pro doesn’t involve acting like a shithead and getting caught and spending the night in jail. It’s still fun, though. The thrill of the forbidden. It’s tradition, and we usually have a blast during rivalry week. As fun as it is, I just don’t wanna get involved this year because my college career is more important than pranking our rivals. But these guys are my teammates, and I won’t let them down.”

“I second that,” Craig chimed in. “Mase, no wiser words have ever left your mouth. Hopefully, the guys will follow your lead.”

Melinda folded her arms over her chest, looking unimpressed.

I scanned the length of her, relishing the swell of her breasts peeking from the neckline of her top. I looked away before she could call me out on it.

She snorted. “Well, you guys are a bunch of followers.”

“It’s called being part of a team.” I offered her my widest smirk. “We don’t snitch on each other, and we work as a unit on and off the field.”

“That’s stupid. I’m glad I’m on the swim team and not the football team.”

I winked at her. “Me too. I agree with that statement one hundred percent.”

She scrunched up her nose, studying me for a second before retreating to her side of the seat with a groan. She mumbled “Perv” under her breath. It wasn’t the reaction I hoped for, but it was still better than no reaction at all.

My thoughts tangled in my brain as I watched her profile. Why did I always have to say shit when she was involved? Why couldn’t I just keep my big mouth shut like any smart guy would do?

To satisfy my need to touch her without being obvious about it, I stretched my legs, bumping my knee to hers. I held my breath, waiting to see what she would do.

No reaction.

After a moment, she puffed a breath and moved her legs, breaking the sole point of contact between us. Pretending to adjust my boardshorts, I opened my legs wider, my knee resting against the side of her thigh. A zing ran through me. Like tiny electric tingles spreading under my skin and messing with the thumping of my overzealous heart.

From the front seat, Paige glanced at Melinda over her shoulder, then at me.

What’s wrong with her? I mouthed.

Girls’ stuff, Paige replied.

“Mel, we can skip the races and do something else if you want,” Paige offered, minutes later.

Melinda sighed and twisted in her seat, severing the physical connection between us again. “No. It’ll be fun. Gimme a minute to find my groove back.”

Paige nodded and swiveled to stare out of the windshield, satisfied with her friend’s answer.

For the umpteenth time, I checked the time on my phone. Only three minutes had passed. How could twenty minutes feel like forever?

I sighed, ran my fingers through my hair—now a messy disaster for sure—and extended my left leg again, hoping for the slightest contact. Anything to ground me and kill the angst swirling inside me. In vain. In my imagination, Melinda would realize I was desperate for her attention and spin around, look at me, and indulge me by striking up a conversation like we were best friends or something. Or lodge herself in the crook of my arm, admitting she’d been in love with me all this time and we should go on a date. If only real life was as simple.

All day, I’d been waiting for two o’clock to ring, and now that it was here, my new game-plan project was lacking. It was in dire need of some brainstorming and a real course of action. I shook my head, disappointed in myself.

From the shortest conversation known to humankind between the girls, I could tell I was right earlier, and something was bothering my seat neighbor. A part of me was desperate to put a smile on her face. To make her laugh because the sound was truly amazing. Also, it would be fun to have a ceasefire for a few hours so we could test once and for all if we still shared some chemistry.

Shutting my eyes, I tried to come up with a joke that would ease the weirdness in the air—or at least decrease the tension tying my stomach. Nothing. It was like my brain cells had been fried. I couldn’t come up with anything funny. My mind was blank, and my brain refused to reboot. The restlessness inside me multiplied. I wiped my palms over my shorts.

Slouching in the seat and widening my legs a little more, I attempted once again to rub my knee against Melinda’s. Since when had I no better move than this with girls?

Melinda leaned forward to grab a lip gloss from her purse she had set on the floor, and I moved my leg out of her way. She offered me what resembled a tight-lipped smile, and my stupid heart galloped in my chest like she had just made a love declaration. After coating her lips in glittery pink, she returned her gaze to the scenery passing by, and my hopes for some interaction died. Why couldn’t I come up with something smart to say? Anything. I wasn’t usually shy. And I always had a comeback ready on the tip of my tongue.

Now, though? Nothing. My thoughts were frozen inside my head.