Page 27 of The Wallflower and the Running Back

“Ford! Office! Now!” I stop running the towel over my head and toss it into the laundry bin on my way to Coach’s office. I exchange a quick glance with Jax, who makes the same face he always does when I get summoned to the office with those words. Like his lips are sealed and he’s going to pretend he doesn’t know me.

Shit. I should have stayed in the shower longer.

I shuffle my way into his office and plop down in one of the chairs opposite his desk. He holds up a finger and finishes typing something on his laptop, pecking his way through whatever it is two fingers at a time.

“There,” he says, punching the final key with his index finger then turning his laptop around so I can see the screen.

“You wanna tell me what that is, Logan?”

I run my palm over my face, my skin still hot from the steamy shower. I know it can’t be chemistry I’m failing, but I seriously thought I had my other shit handled. I lean in and scan my grade report—B, B, C, A.

“It’s nothing!” I protest, snapping my gaze to Coach. He stays in character for about two more seconds before that broomstick mustache of his flies up with laughter and he leans back in his rolling chair.

“Exactly!” He slaps his desk, but not in the scary way I’m used to. I look at him sideways, skeptical and hesitant, but I go ahead and smile.

“Is this you . . . being proud?”

“Damn right it is,” he says, slapping his computer screen shut then folding his hands over his protruding belly.

“What’s going on in here?” Cam’s been anxiously awaiting grade reports, ready to step in if I fuck up. He’s mentioned it a few times, and I’ve held off popping him in the jaw.

“Just me killing my GPA,” I say, glaring at him over my shoulder.

“Huh. What a surprise,” Cam says, slinging his towel over his shoulder. He walks around with his shirt off a lot longer than he needs to. The man’s a fucking peacock. So proud. Such an asshole.

I stand up, mostly so I can look him in the eyes while he’s dissing me. Cam’s not only from a major family, he’s also pretty smart. He’s an accounting major, a choice he made so he can count all his money someday, he said during media day. Gross.

“Whatever magic that tutor has is working,” Coach says, affirming my request for Rachel at the start of the semester.

I knew she’d make a difference. Instinct told me. But I also wonder if there was a part of me that wanted a reason to talk to her. We’ve never had the occasion. She doesn’t show up to parties—which now that I see how she handles them, I don’t blame her. But it’s not like I was in any of her classes, and I get the sense she wasn’t all that keen on me before, which is probably why she helped other students in my class and stayed far away from me.

Things are different now, though. Hell, maybe I’m different. Logan in his post-Amy era.

“Rachel’s a genius,” I say as I leave Coach’s office, Cam still lingering by the door.

“What does she see in you, then?” Cam lobs at me. I flutter my eyes at him and purse my lips. If I were twelve, I’d twist his nipple right now so hard it bled. I’m twenty-two and still considering it.

“Guess she has a thing for starting running backs,” I respond, slapping his bare shoulder with an open palm that leaves my handprint behind.

Coach doesn’t say a word.

I’m not sure Rachel made it to her labs today. Knowing her as I’m starting to, I’m guessing she would drag herself in with one eye open and a vomit bag at her hip if she had to. I have a feeling she’s still not operating at one-hundred percent, though, so I grab my bag from my cubby and slap hands with Jax and Dante on my way out.

“Got a hot date with the tutor?” Jax teases.

“Something like that,” I say through a stupid boyish grin.

Fuck. I’m stuck on her.

Once I get to my truck, I shoot her a text to see how she’s feeling. Her response is quick.

SHORTCAKE: Did I really lose at beer pong?

I laugh out loud, nodding for nobody to see.

ME: Yes. You lost big time.

She responds with the facepalm emoji so I leave it at that and head to the grocery store where I get a gallon of Ben & Jerry’s Tonight Dough ice cream and the only bouquet that looks like it wasn’t spray painted to appear alive.

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