Page 6 of The Quarterback Sneak

“Sure thing.” Whatever, I don’t want to pick a fight with her; I’ve had enough confrontation for one day. “Just going to get ready for my class.” I push through the large steel filigree doors and rush up the stairs without giving her a second glance. I’ll be in a good place if I can get out of this conversation without her asking me to remove my sunglasses.

“Before you go,” my mom calls, and I clutch the banister a little too tightly.

I respond with the gentlest “Mm-hm.”

“I’ve invited Jamie and his parents over for dinner Thursday night and canceled your horse-riding class already so you can join us. There’s a new navy dress hanging in your wardrobe for the occasion.”

Dinner with Jamie and his parents? Yeah, that’s not happening.

“Thursday?”

“Yes. Why? Have you got something else planned?”

“No, it’s just that Jamie has to go to this bonfire for the football team then. It’s the first pep rally of the year, so I don’t think he’ll be able to make it.” Ergo, maybe I can go to my class instead.

“Oh, that’s too bad. You can probably still wear that dress to the bonfire, then.” I grimace. Shit. That wasn’t part of the plan.

“It might be a little too formal, Mom. I’ll probably go for jeans and a shirt.”

“Or Jamie’s jersey.”

“Of course.” Jamie’s jersey… the one that gets no airtime because he never plays. He’s a terrible football player and a terrible sport, but I would always dutifully wear his spotless practice jersey because that’s what I thought a supportive girlfriend should do. Too bad we had drastically different definitions of the word supportive.

I walk up the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. The weight of expectation runs thickly through my veins, and the disappointment I will have to face from both my parents irks my bones. I never wanted this. I wanted to be a normal girl with normal dreams, ones I could choose instead of fulfilling a damn legacy. A legacy that only involves me breeding the right kind of child for the bloodline.

By the time I get to my room, I’m already fifteen minutes late, and I huff out a breath as I clean my face and reapply my makeup. Mrs. Rosen won’t care what I look like, but my mom will be right outside the room, waiting to say something to me, so I need to look as pleasant and perky as possible.

At least it’s only a couple of hours before I can sit alone in my room and finally let my emotions show behind the safety of my locked bedroom door.

Chapter Three

Zach

“Touchdown,” the referee calls, throwing his arms up in a U. Mike spikes the ball, throwing his fists in the air as our teammates slap him on the back and cheer as though we’ve won state. It’s a practice game, but I guess this team had a losing record before I joined, so celebrating this small win is probably important to them.

A couple of guys offer me high-fives, only now remembering I was the one who threw the fifty-five-yard pass to Mike. “Zach, you’re off,” Coach calls, and I stroll off the grass. The cheerleaders smile as I walk past. They’re practicing their routine for tomorrow night’s bonfire—the same bonfire I finally agreed to attend, and I’m already regretting it.

As the JV team pushes past me for their moment to practice, I pull my helmet off and walk to the showers, because I have a bus to catch. That and watching Jamie attempt to throw a pass while Brett tries to catch it is just too embarrassing for words.

When I finish showering, I’m met with a locker room full of sweaty and muddy players. Damn. I was hoping I’d started early enough that I’d be able to leave without seeing any of them.

“Dude,” Brett calls, throwing a towel at Jamie’s face. “Did you see Honey today? That skirt looked shorter than usual. I swear I could see her little black lace panties peeking out.”

“Whatever, man.” Jamie laughs, shaking his head. I don’t care if the girl is my ex or not, if someone talked about her like that, he’d get a punch in the face. Jamie doesn’t care about Honey, though. Never has. It’s obvious from the way he talked about other girls in the locker room and laughed at the crude jokes aimed at her.

“I’m just wondering, though. When’s the right time for me to move in? Now that you’ve finally set her free, I’m looking to get myself some of that Sanderson cash.”

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you. Your dick’s been in every hole in this school, and besides, she’s got more class than to sleep with you.”

“Says the guy who was right there next to me, waiting in line after I finished with said hole.” I look over at Mike, who’s reading texts, from Olivia, I assume. Lucky him, he’s got someone to distract him while I have to listen to this garbage. “Tell me, why did you decide to go nuclear and publicly fuck another girl? You’re usually much more discreet than that. Is it because you didn’t want to have the breakup talk with her?”

Jamie jeers but doesn’t deny it.

“You know, making out with McKenna would have probably done the trick just as well. You didn’t need to dry hump her against a wall and shove her into that bedroom to make your point.” Brett’s eyes widen. “Do you think Honey’s seen the full unedited video?”

Brett pulls his phone out, tossing it in the air as moans and grunts echo through the room. I don’t bother looking at it; Jamie always sends out videos of his conquests. This is no different. There are loud, raucous cheers while other players slap Jamieand Brett on the back like they’re some hot-ass playboys sharing the phone around.

“She hasn’t,” Jamie replies with a slight curve to his lip. “But let’s be clear, it doesn’t matter what I do. Hunniford Sanderson will always come crawling back to me.” He boasts with way more confidence than a guy with such a tiny dick should have, and shrugs. “She’ll always be wrapped around my little finger.” Or little dick. “Her daddy will always bring her back, on her knees and begging me to fuck her no matter what I do.”

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