Page 37 of The Playbook

Logan

Just when I thought I was going to be booted out on my ass, Grace’s mom saved the day by inviting me to stay for dinner.

Nervously, I sat in their pristine dining room, glancing at Coach.

“Logan.” Coach nodded at me. “You and Grace get your work done?”

“Yeah, we’re really starting to tear into it,” I answered with a smile. The eye roll from Grace ratcheted my smile up a notch. “Grace tells me she’s grounded, sir. I was wondering if that meant from doing school-related things.”

“As long as it's school-related, Grace can participate,” Coach said as he loaded his plate with the delicious-smelling pot roast that was making my mouth water.

“That’s great. I left my supplies at my place and was wondering if Grace could come over after dinner so we can work from there. I’ll make sure she’s home by her curfew. Before, even, if need be. It’s just really important that we get this done. Both our grades, and my being able to play, depend on it.” I threw that last part in there knowing me playing was a big deal. I was the quarterback after all.

“Don’t worry about it. I can do the work from here. I don’t mind just putting your name on it—” Grace started in a rush.

“Grace, you arenotgoing to cheat for him,” Coach said with a grunt. “You can go to Logan’s and work on things from there. Just be home by ten. It’s a school night.”

Grace’s face reddened as she glared at me. I forked a mouthful of her mother’s delicious cooking into my mouth to keep from grinning.

* * *

Grace grumbled the entire way to my house. And when she wasn’t complaining, she was staring out the passenger window with her arms folded over her chest.

“Don’t be that way,” I said as we pulled into my driveway. “Come on. Think of this as the friend date we didn’t get to do.”

“I can think of a million ways I’d rather be spending my night. None of them include you,” she snapped at me, shoving her door open and climbing out.

I hadn’t realized I’d pissed her off so much, but I guessed I was wrong.

She waited for me with her arms still folded over her chest as I unlocked my front door. I held it open for her as she stepped inside, shrugging her jacket off.

“What would you like to do?” I asked as I led her into the living room.

I was suddenly really nervous. I wasnevernervous with girls. But Grace Matthews wasn’t just any girl. She was one who hated me, and I didn’t know how the hell to deal with that.

“Leave?” She threw the word out with a sigh but flopped down onto the leather sofa, her arms once again crossed.

“How about we watch a movie? I’ll pop some popcorn and get us some sodas,” I suggested, sounding a little too cheerful.

She must have noticed too because she cast me a weird look, an eyebrow raised at me.

“Sure,” she said, scrutinizing me beneath her emerald-green stare.

I left the room and started going through the cupboards, looking for the popcorn popper my mom bought last fall. When I located it, I quickly turned it on and got the popcorn kernels into it.

Did Grace like buttered popcorn? Cheese?

I looked at all the flavored seasonings I had.

“Uh, Grace?” I called out.

A moment later she popped her head into the room.

“Do you like buttered popcorn?”

She walked all the way into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, taking in the jars of seasonings I had set out.

“You’re really going all out on this, huh?” she mused.

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