Page 59 of Kickoff

“You okay?” I asked with a side-glance a few minutes later. “You haven’t said a word since we left your house. Are you all right about going with me? I can drop you off if you prefer to go on your own and pick you up later. Nobody has to know.”

“No. Please don’t. I’m glad we’re going together.”

“Good.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah.”

She nibbled on her lower lip. “If I’m being honest…I didn’t really wanna go…with Landon.” She scrunched up her nose. “I feel bad admitting it out loud.”

“Why did you agree then?” My grip tightened around the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white, as I waited for her to explain.

She stared out the window. “Because… Nobody else asked me… and the one person I hoped would didn’t, so…”

I swallowed. If only she knew. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

Yes, it is. I was the one supposed to ask you to Homecoming, and I chickened out.

Before I could explain and question her further, she spun on her seat and pressed a hand to my forearm, my muscles twitching under her touch. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this. You know how many girls will hate me tonight because I’m the one showing up there with you?”

I shook my head, her words acting like tiny blades shredding my heart. “Mel, I don’t care about the other girls. I’m your date. No one else’s. I wouldn’t have changed my mind about going for anyone else.”

“Who are you, and what have you done to Mason Pierce?” she asked.

I blinked to hide the hurt I was sure she could read on my face. My smirk returned, protecting me from being vulnerable. “Don’t tell anyone, but at midnight, I’ll go back to being the no-commitment guy you’re used to. And I might transform into a pumpkin.” Even though I said it as a joke, my words lacked their usual cockiness, and I wondered if she could tell I was not being myself—not entirely, at least. And once again, I hated myself for the idiocies leaving my mouth when I felt nervous around my neighbor. Why couldn’t I be honest instead of hiding my uneasiness under quips?

“Maybe you could wait a little longer. I like this version of you right now.”

My discomfort faded, and my happiness returned. “You do?”

“Yeah. Being down-to-earth suits you. Anyway, I always prefer it when you drop the cocksure attitude.”

“For real?”

She nodded multiple times.

“Don’t tell anyone else. Please. It’s not good for my rep.”

Melinda traced a cross over her heart with a finger. “I swear. Your secret is safe with me.”

We exchanged a grin, and I relaxed in my seat.

“Nice game yesterday.”

“Thanks.” I swept my lips with my tongue. Warmth filled me at the idea she saw me play one of the best games of my high school career. “You missed the celebrations afterward.” I watched her from the corner of my eye.

“Yeah. Huh…I left right after you guys won.”

“I looked for you, you know. That’s what friends do.”

“Oh.” She fidgeted with the tennis bracelet around her wrist. “You did?”

“Yeah, I did.” The air got charged around us, and my palms turned moist. “What I’m trying to say is thank you for coming to the game. I’m glad you made it. We appreciate all the support we can get.”

We? When I said it like this, it sounded so impersonal. Now she would think her presence meant the same thing as anyone else coming to see us play. Why was there always some defective part of me that took the lead when I felt uncomfortable?