Page 14 of The Wallflower and the Running Back

And apparently I failed on the puppy dog thing.

“I did. I know. But it was a practice thing, and I didn’t have your number, which we should remedy, by the way.”

“Right,” she hums, tone suspicious, her eyes narrowing on me even more somehow, literally piercing my pupils.

“I’m sorry, do you mean right as in right, here’s my number. Now let’s get started. Or do you mean it as in right, you’re full of shit?”

“That second one has a certain ring to it,” she deadpans.

I draw in a heavy breath and look down at my shoes, my laces still untied. I kick my right foot out and point at it.

“Look, straight from practice. I’m barely changed. My compression shirt is still on.” I lift my hoodie and pat my stomach, which is bound in the tight blue football undershirt.

“I’m sorry, Logan. What exactly are you saying? That you forgot to build in time to get dressed? That you don’t know how to tie your shoes yet?”

My mouth falls into a hard line.

“You’re the one who stood me up. You don’t get to make the pissy face.” She pushes off from the counter and walks around me, pulling the lab door open and gesturing for me to leave.

I don’t move. Instead, I hold her stare and mentally prepare the best apology I can muster.

“I understand. I insulted your time. And practicing chemistry is equally as important as football. I made a choice, and you’re right. I should have made a better one. But I meant what I said. I am taking this seriously. I even answered questions in class today. And I got them right.”

Her stoic face breaks ever so slightly, a tiny crease by her eye as her mouth sneaks up with a tiny twitch.

“You banking on class participation points?” Her tone sounds teasing.

“I’m banking on any points I can get. Are snack points still a thing?” I quirk a brow and Rachel rolls her eyes.

“Snack points have never been a thing, Logan.” She lets go of the door, letting it fall shut again. I’m still in the room, so this is good.

She leans against it, dropping her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. With her purple-rimmed glasses on, she looks every bit the comic book scientist . . . who usually turns out to be evil and is secretly developing a toxic formula to put the entire world to sleep, but that last part is extra. Her smart look is cute.

“I don’t talk in class. I mean, in my coaching theory class, sure. But let’s be honest, that’s not really an academic course. In real classes, I’ve never talked. I don’t even think I raised my hand in grade school unless it was to go to the bathroom. But today—this morning—I raised my hand. I answered a question in front of people and I got it right. I’m not sure you know how big of a deal that is, but Rachel . . . it’s a pretty big flipping deal.”

Her eyes snap to mine when I repeat her word, her lids dimming as she studies me for a beat. I hold out my palms.

“What do I have to do? How can I make it up to you?”

She blinks slowly, twisting her lips as she seems to consider her options.

“There has to be something,” I plead.

Her head tilts.

“The Science Ball,” she utters, nodding slowly as if I’m supposed to follow what that means. It sounds made up.

“Sure. Science Ball. You got it.” I shrug and step forward with a palm out to seal the deal. What deal? I have no clue. But if it gets me back in her good graces and means I’ll pass chem and stay eligible, Science Ball ahoy!

“It’s a formal, and an awards ceremony,” she explains, hesitating, her hand still not reaching for mine. Things are mildly clearer to me, not that it matters.

“Ah, got it. And that guy the other day . . . I’m guessing he was supposed to be your date?”

She’s still nodding, slowly, and not shaking my hand.

“Something like that, yeah.”

Her ex seems like an arrogant asshole. I try not to make kneejerk assumptions about people, but I think I’ll make an exception for that guy. I didn’t like the smug way he assumed Rachel had less appeal than he did. Like he’s some prize. Honestly? She was dating down with that dude. I don’t care what his major and future earning potential is. Money ain’t worth diminishing self-worth.

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