Page 34 of The Score

He’d actually clicked a button on his watch and timed me, and for those ten minutes I brooded and sulked and wallowed in humiliation. I remembered the errors I’d made on the field and corrected them in my head. I imagined punching every player on the opposing team square in the mouth. And then Dad told me my time was up.

“There. It’s over now,” he said. “Now you look forward and figure out how you’re going to get better.”

I fucking love my dad.

By the time I’m out of the shower, the bitterness of tonight’s loss has faded, tucked away in my internal filing cabinet in a folder labeledShitty Stuff.

I think Garrett uses the same filing system, because he’s damn near chipper as we meet up with Hannah in the parking lot. He pulls her into his arms and smacks a kiss on her lips. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey.” She snuggles closer to him. “It’s gettingso cold! I wouldn’t be surprised if it started snowing right now.”

She’s not wrong. It’s freezing out, and every breath we take floats out in a visible white cloud.

“Bar or home?” Logan asks, joining us at our cars.

“Bar,” Garrett says. “Don’t feel like having anyone over tonight. You?”

After a game, we either hit Malone’s or invite our teammates and friends over to the house, but it’s obvious none of us feel like playing hosts tonight.

“Bar,” Logan echoes, and I nod in agreement.

“Are we waiting for Tucker?” I search the lot, but I don’t see our roommate anywhere. “And what about Grace?”

“Tuck already left with Fitzy,” Logan answers. “And Grace isn’t coming tonight. She’s at the station.”

Feigning nonchalance, I glance at Hannah. “What about your other half?”

“I’m right here,” Garrett says smugly.

“I mean her other other half.” I grin at Hannah. “The little blond drama queen you hang out with?”

“She didn’t feel like going out tonight. She’s too busy moping.”

“Moping about what?” But I already know the answer to that. The ex-boyfriend, obvs.

Hannah confirms my thoughts. “Sean. He called her this morning, and I don’t know what he said to her, but she got really quiet afterward and she’s been mopey ever since. I would’ve stayed home tonight, but I didn’t want to miss the game.”

Garrett leans down to kiss her cold-reddened cheek. “I’m glad you didn’t. We appreciate your support, babe.”

“I’m so bummed you guys lost,” she says, but I’m more concerned about the idea of Allie sulking all alone in the dorm. She’s probably ovaries-deep in a carton of Ben & Jerry’s right now while Mumford & Sons plays in the background.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t go home and braid her hair or something?” I ask Hannah. “That’s what chicks do for moral support, right?”

“Yes, Dean. That’s exactly what we do. Hair braiding, followed by naked pillow fights and then kissing practice.”

“Can I come?” Logan and I blurt out in unison.

“You wish. And no, I’m not going home yet. I texted Allie during the third period and she insists she’s fine. She’s drinking margaritas and watching this awful show. Like, I’m talkingreallyawful. Wild horses couldn’t drag me back there tonight.”

“What show?” Garrett asks curiously.

“The worst thing to ever happen to television” is all she says, and everyone laughs.

Logan taps the hood of my Beemer. “Are we ready to go?”

I hesitate. “Actually, do you mind riding with G and Wellsy? I need to make a few stops first. I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Sure,” he says easily. He moves away from my car and toward Garrett’s Jeep.

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