Page 3 of Sporty Girls Don't Fall For Loners

Aunt Ally faces the students. “Okay, where were we?”

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“Please tell me there’s pizza for lunch,” Mia begs as she, Rylee, Mason, and I make our way to the cafeteria.

“According to the school app, we have vegetable soup and grilled chicken with mashed potatoes, string beans, and fruit,” I inform her. “And sandwiches.”

She frowns. “They never have pizza when I’m in the mood.”

“You’re always in the mood,” Rylee points out with a chuckle.

Mia throws her hands up. “What can I say? My whole family is obsessed with pizza.” Her phone buzzes and she plucks it out of her jeans pocket. “Ugh.”

“What’s up?” I ask as the four of us grab trays and wait in line.

“It’s just my agent trying to push me to audition for this comedy about a Korean-American family. But I don’t know…I’m looking into other projects that sound more…serious, I guess?”

Mia has been acting since she was five. She takes after her dad, Asher Park, who is a famous film and TV star. His Korean name is Park Ji-Ho, but everyone, other than his family, knows him as Asher Park. Mia’s mom, Charlie, is a kickbutt redhead who works for NASA. I feel lucky to be surrounded by strong women like her, my mom, my aunt, and all of their friends.

“Do you go on a lot of auditions?” Mason asks Mia.

She shrugs. “I used to do more acting when I was younger, but once I started middle school, I had to focus on school. Now, I prefer to do one movie over the summer because I don’t think I can handle the stress. Besides...” She beams as she wraps her arms around Rylee and me. “I have to experience normal high school with my best friends. And Rylee’s guy.” She winks at Mason. “Not to mention I love doing theater here at school.”

We talk about various topics before we reach the front of the line. I settle on a turkey sandwich and some fruit while Rylee and Mason try the grilled chicken, and Mia chooses a bowl of vegetable soup. The lunch lady plops some mashed potatoes onto her plate. We make our way to what we call the Invisible Table, which is at the back corner of the cafeteria. We’re not the ones who coined it, though. The Four Musketeers—Charlie, Rylee’s mom Kara, Aunt Ally, and their other friend, Dani—were the ones who first started using the table. It’s practically invisible when the cafeteria is packed with students, hence the name. Then my mom, Bailey, sat there too with her friend Manny Delgado, and then the Juniors Musketeers. They’re Mia’s sister, Willow, Rylee’s sister (and my cousin) Chloe, plus my twin cousins Lily and Liam, and their friend Ava. Continuing the tradition, my friends and I have coins ourselves the Musketeer Trio.

“So how excited are you for the football game this Friday?” Mia asks me as she eats a spoonful of soup.

I lift my shoulders. “I wish I could say I’m stoked, but we’re playing against Chefield High. Not much of a challenge.”

“That’s what you get for being a kickbutt quarterback.” Mia playfully pushes my shoulder.

“Either way, the cheerleaders are here to cheer you guys on,” Rylee says with a smile. “Even if you guys have it in the bag, it’s always good to have more support.”

“Yeah, totally,” I say. “That any good?” I nod at Rylee’s grilled chicken.

“It’s pretty good.”

“I like it, too,” Mason says.

I grab her spare fork and stab a piece, throwing it into my mouth.

“Hey, get your own!”

“Hmm, yeah, not bad.” I raise my hands. “What? A quarterback’s gotta eat. These muscles don’t come cheap.” I flex my arm. I don’t have humongous muscles or anything, but my friends still claim I’m very strong. I’m quite small, though, not like the rival quarterbacks I face at every game. But what I lack in strength, I make up in speed.

“Food stealer,” Rylee grumbles.

“Food hogger,” I shoot back.

And then all four of us laugh.

Rylee suddenly stops laughing and nods at the doorway. We all turn around to see New Kid, AKA, Kade Sanders, walk inside. A scowl takes over his face when he notices the many students gawking at him, and his hands clench and unclench at his sides. He marches to the tray stand and wrenches off a tray, tucking it under his arm and waiting in line. He plays with his phone.

Lots of girls are whispering and pointing and giggling with their friends. Yeah, I don’t see how they could find someone like him attractive. I mean, sure, on the outside he’s pretty good-looking, but on the inside? He’s a nightmare. And he so obviously has the bad boy thing going on, which is so cliché.

“He looks like he wants to kill someone,” Mia says.

“Yeah, the entire world,” I mutter.

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