Page 46 of Weak Side

Claire began stacking cups off to the side. “Not really, but tomorrow night we will be. Everyone seems to come here after the game, before they hit the parties.”

“You work tomorrow night?” I asked.

Claire shook her head, and I watched her closely. She looked both relieved and deterred by that.

“So…” I leaned in close so she was forced to peer up at me. Her cheeks turned pink when I smirked. “That means you’re coming to the game, then?”

Her laugh was abrupt. “No.”

I slapped the top of the bar and pulled myself away from her space. “Come on, Bryant. What else are you gonna be doing if you’re not working? You’ve been nonexistent this week. I live with you and haven’t seen you.”

Was this my attempt to dig and figure out what was going on with her and Chad? Yes. Was it a poor attempt? Also, yes.

Claire’s shoulders fell. “I’ll be catching up on homework, and I’ll probably head to the auditorium and practice.”

I felt the skepticism in my expression before I allowed it to come out in my voice. “How often do you need to practice? You’re already there by the time I wake up to run.” I thought I was obsessed with being the best, but damn.

Claire paused as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “How do you know that?”

I stilled but recovered quickly. “Because I run past and see your car there every morning.”

She didn’t need to know that running past the auditorium was not my usual route, but deep down, I knew it.So what?I wanted to check on her. There wasn’t anything wrong with that.

Claire thought for a moment, but then she brushed me off, walking around the bar to clean off some tables with her wet rag. I followed closely behind her, not allowing her to avoid me any longer.Is this about us kissing?

“So, you’re coming to the game?” I teased, poking at her a little more.

“What?” she asked, spinning around on light feet. “N–”

Ford leaned out of the booth beside the one she was wiping down. “You’re coming to our game?! Are you going with Taytum?”

“You’re comin’?” Jett pulled out his phone and began texting. “You can sit with my girl if you want. She comes to every game. I’ll let her know.”

“And she wears his jersey. She’s honestly our biggest cheerleader.” Dax rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t like Alicia so much, I would be annoyed with your relationship.”

“They’re in love. It’s adorbs.” Ford drew a heart in the air with his finger, and everyone chuckled. I watched Claire closely to see how she’d react, but she only laughed at Ford, lighting up the restaurant with her pretty smile.

“There. Done.” Ford held his phone up and showed Claire. Her huff came quickly, and I grinned down at the texts between him and Taytum.

Ford: Claire is coming to our game tomorrow. You going with her?

Taytum: What? She is? Are you sure?

Ford: Yes, she said she’d go if you do.

The wet rag that was bundled in her hand shot out and hit Ford in the center of the chest. Everyone at the table laughed, and Claire stomped her foot in a poor attempt at protesting. I heard her phone buzz, and she pulled it out of the back of her jeans and pursed her lips at the text from Taytum.

Tay: Not sure how that happened, but you’re not getting out of going to the game. You need a night out and to stop killing yourself by working and practicing. If Chad is gonna “experience” college and expect you to be with him after, then you’re going to as well.

Experience college? What?

“Hmm,” I whispered, reading over her shoulder. “I agree.”

Claire shut her phone off, and her pointy elbow went straight into my tight stomach. I let out a hiss between my teeth that ruffled the back of her ponytail, making me pull on the strands a moment later. Her head flew back, and she spun around, ready to slap me with the towel, but I dodged the blow and went around to the other side of the booth and slid in beside Jett, stealing a fry from the basket she’d given us.

My smirk was the cherry on top of my triumphant mood. I was a natural-born winner, and even winning this little spar with Claire seemed to feed into that.

I could tell Coach was shouting by the spit flying from his mouth and the vein popping out of his right temple. The crowd was roaring, like it usually was at a home game, and I couldn’t help but do a quick search for Claire in a sea of black jerseys. I hadn’t spotted her yet, and usually, during a game, everything around me blurred the moment my skates hit the ice. Tonight, though, I kept glancing in the stands, appearing unfocused to my team and, most of all, to Coach.

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