Page 36 of The Playbook

Logan stared down at his feet like a scolded puppy.

“Is it me? Like, is it because of who I am?” He moved back to sit beside me on my bed. His voice was small as he continued, his eyes locked on mine, “Is it because your dad is my coach?”

“A little.” I shrugged awkwardly. “We just don’t mesh well, Logan. You’re the most popular guy in school. You hang out with the cool kids. You date girls who look like supermodels.”

“That stuff doesn’t matter to me,” Logan interjected passionately, shaking his head at me. “Really. I just want to get to know you, Gracie. I know you’re not the type of girl who really gives a shit about what other people think. I love that. So I know it has to be more than what you said. What is it? Really. Just tell me why you won’t even hang out with me.”

“I’m not like you,” I whispered. “I’ll never be like you. I’ll never fit in with you and your friends. Being friends with you puts a spotlight on me, and I don’t like that. I already have to deal with shit from Nikki and the fem-bots. I don’t want to fuel their fire. Plus, my dad is really against me dating. I’ve been accepted to Rayton. I’ve worked hard to get there. If I let myself get caught up in high school drama and boys, it could mess up my future.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. I guess my dad is afraid if I find a guy I like before college, then I’ll change my mind about going and stay with my guy instead of focusing on my future.”

“You can have fun with a guy without compromising college,” Logan offered, his eyes sweeping over me in a way that my heart flip flop in my chest.

“I’m not like Nikki or any of the other girls you get with.” I straightened my back and looked him in the eye. “It’ll take more than a few sweet words to change my mind about you. I know what kind of guy you are.”

“You don’t know me, Grace,” he answered coolly. “And you won't give me a damn chance to show you the kind of guy I really am. You’re being unfair and-and stuck up.”

“What?” I screeched, getting to my feet, my hands balled into fists. “Howdareyou! I’mnotstuck up, Logan Walker!”

“Yes, you are!” Logan rose to his feet, his large frame looming over me. “You sat right there and told me what you thought of me. You judged me without knowing me. That makes you stuck up, Grace Matthews.”

He was right. I had judged him. But I wasn’t wrong. I knew how he was. Everyone knew it.

“You won’t even give me a chance. You won’t even try to get to know me—”

“You got megrounded, Logan! Remember? I did try to get to know you, but I’m a prisoner in my own damn home for the next week because of you,” I shot back heatedly. “You had your chance, and you fucking blew it.”

“No,” he murmured vehemently, shaking his head. “That can’t have been my only chance. I want to be your friend, Gracie. I really, truly do. Please. Just give me one more chance at it. I can prove I’m a good guy.”

I eyed him warily.Do I give him the chance? Do I throw all my insecurities aside and place my trust in someone who was part of a group who made my life a living hell?He seemed genuine as he stared down at me, his eyes big and pleading.

“Grace! Dinner is ready!” Mom called up the stairs.

“I-I need to go downstairs. And you have to go,” I mumbled, backing away from him.

His face fell, but he grabbed his jacket and followed me downstairs wordlessly.

“Hello,” Mom greeted us at the bottom of the stairs. I had a sneaking suspicion she’d been waiting for us. “You must be Logan.”

“Hello, Mrs. Matthews,” Logan greeted her, his smile shaky. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Coach talks about you all the time, and I’ve seen you at the games.”

“All good talk I hope,” Mom quipped, smiling at him. “Are you leaving?”

“Uh, yeah. Grace said it was time for me to go.”

“Grace,” Mom admonished me. “Don’t be rude. Logan, we’d love it if you stayed for dinner.”

Logan’s eyes lit up as I shook my head frantically behind his back at my mom. Her eyes slid from him to me, an unsure expression on her face. She quickly righted it and widened her beauty pageant smile.

“I’d love to, Mrs. Matthews. My parents are in Florida right now, so you saved me from a microwave dinner. But I don’t want to bother Grace or impose—”

“Nonsense,” Mom said, throwing a look at me over Logan’s shoulder. “We’dalllove to have you stay. Come on. You and John can talk sports. It’ll be fun.”

I groaned as Mom steered Logan to the kitchen. This was not going to be fun.

CHAPTER20

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