Page 19 of How to Score Off Field

Miranda cocks her head. “Like—actually singleor single?” She uses air quotes around that second single, implying that he should admit to having a girlfriend stashed away somewhere he’s not telling us about.

It’s a ballsy question to ask for no apparent reason.

“Like actually single. Anything else you want to know? Like what time I go to sleep and what I had for breakfast?” he teases.

“Yeah, actually, what did you have for breakfast?”

“Well, since I was at Grady’s and he is a shitty host, I had six eggs ’cause that’s all he had. I woke up at six—force of habit—went for a run, had eggs, took a shit.” His brows go up. “Let’s see, what else…”

Drew raises a hand to rub his chin.

“Went for a run, had eggs, took a shit. Sounds like a productive morning.” Miranda laughs.

“Had to fend for myself. My host wasn’t around when I woke up.”

“He wasn’t? That’s so rude.”

I stand there like a blob, watching the interaction but contributing nothing.

Get in the game, Tess.

Get in the game.

“You’re welcome to stay at my place,” she says casually. “We have a stocked fridge. I even have protein shakes and protein bars.”

Drew looks impressed. “Protein shakes? You don’t say.”

“I do say. And I work during the day, too—same as Grady. So like, all Tess has been doing is waiting for me to get home.” She pauses. “The two of you should do something in the morning. It’s lame to wait around for Grady to get home when you’ve come all this way to see him.”

I swear, if my jaw weren’t connected, it would be on the floor. She did not just sidle up here, suggest he come stay with us, then suggest he and I spend the day together tomorrow.

No, she did not.

Did I literally not tell her my Drake Drew Twin Mix-Up Horror Story? Did I not?

She’s the one who told me I had her permission to let it go!

The fuu…

“That’s not a bad idea.” He looks at me. “You can show me around.”

Show him around? “Dude, we’re both from here.”

“I know, but I haven’t been home in ages.”

“But I go to school in another city, too. I have no idea what’s what anymore.”

An elbow gets jammed into my rib cage, and I shoot a glare at Miranda.

“What?”

Her nostrils flare. “Be nice.”

My mouth falls open. When am I not nice?!

This is an outrage.

Pursing my lips, I take Miranda by the arm and give it a tug. “I have to go to the bathroom. Want to come with me?”

---