Page 99 of The Quarterback Sneak

My eyes connect with my father’s in the mirror, and he raises a brow which is his way of telling me to listen to my mother because it’s important to her. Without another word, I take off the necklace Zach gave me and reach for the black velvet box.

My mother watches me self-righteously. Of course she’s happy. She thinks I’m doing what she wants, but I’ll change it back when she leaves.

Satisfied, she checks her watch. “You’ve got ten minutes before you go out there.”

“Good luck, Hunniford,” my father says, following my mother out of the room. “Make me proud.”

Had I known this whole time all I had to do to make my father proud was wear an ugly dress while walking down a few steps at the clubhouse, I would have done it years ago. Maybe it would have gotten them off my back.

As I look at myself in the mirror one last time, I adjust the tendrils falling on either side of my face and wipe away a tiny smudge of lipstick. Having also not spoken to Zach since he kissed me in the hallway and told me to wait for him, I don’t know what to expect when I leave this room. For all I know, there will be no one to meet me at the bottom of the stairs, but I have hope.

One of the coordinators pops her head into the room. “It’s time to go, Miss Sanderson.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Before leaving, I grab Zach’s necklace, stuffing it in the only place I know I won’t lose it: my bra. I’ll put it on when I get the chance.

Feeling out of place as I stand in line with the other debutants, I get the urge to flee again. I don’t want to do this, but with the coordinators at the end of the hall, the only way out is down. I have no choice but to go through with it.

When the girl in front of me starts to walk down the steps, I take a deep breath. This is it.

My hand teeters on the edge of the railing, and I take the stairs one step at a time. When I reach the break in stairs, I walk to the center and face the crowd. Hundreds of people are watching, but I’m only looking for one set of eyes. My heart rate accelerates, and prickles of sweat bead across my forehead from the bright lights. I hate being pranced around like this by my mother, and as I lose hope of finding those green eyes, I realize I will also be embarrassed if Zach’s not down there waiting for me.

I drop my gaze to the bottom of the stairs, startled by Jamie’s presence below. Disappointment fills my veins. That tiny morsel of hope I once had is snuffed out because Zach isn’t here. Maybe thinking he was coming was naive, but his words and how he looked at me made me feel special. Something I’m clearly not.

Jamie watches me with an overeager smile. He, like my parents, thinks they’ve won. The sad reality is, they might be right. It doesn’t matter how much I want to hide from the life laid out for me; I can’t.

Every step feels heavier than the last, and I have to concentrate on making sure I don’t fall on my pointed heels, which thankfully means I’m not looking at the boy waiting for me at the bottom.

So this is it. Maybe I should accept it. I’ll be comfortable forever and never have to worry about money. Jamie will have mistresses like I’m sure my dad has, and I’ll be as bitter as my mother. Maybe that’s my circle of life. Plenty of people have it much worse, so maybe I should accept they’ve won.

A little piece of my heart chips when I think about Zach because all he’ll be is a memory my mind will flit back to whenever I’m lonely. The boy who got away. The boy who was never mine in the first place.

Jamie’s smile widens the closer I get, seemingly unable to notice that I’m slowing. At least I’ll be away from him for four years while I’m at St. Michael’s and he’s at Southern Collegiate.

Jamie holds his hand out to me, bowing in my presence. I reluctantly reach out to him.

Here goes nothing.

“Wait!”

That voice.

I must be dreaming or delirious. This can’t be happening. Jamie’s hand tries to capture mine, but I wiggle my fingers away.

“Honey.”

There’s no mistaking it now. I swallow, building the courage to look up, and when I do, I melt.

Green eyes, a charming smile, and looking confident.

He’s here.

“Zach,” I barely whisper, watching as he strides over with certainty. Spectators gasp, and I know my mother is watching, but I don’t care. Zach is here… for me.

Skipping off the bottom step, I push past Jamie, hold the skirt of my dress, and run to Zach.

I feel at home when his hands curl around my waist and I wrap my arm around his.

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