Page 9 of How to Score Off Field

I got my period at school today and I was NOT prepared for it.

That is the freaking worst and I didn’t have a tampon in my backpack. Luckily Kierra, this girl in my bio lab, had one in her bag because it was almost an emergency: I HAD ON WHITE PANTS. Can you imagine? My science teacher Mr D wasn’t going to let me out of class because they don’t want stragglers in the hallway and three girls had asked to use the bathroom before me, but Kierra blurted out that Aunt Flo was visiting and he got all embarrassed and handed me the hall pass. WORKS EVERY TIME…

x Tess

CHAPTER3

DREW

“I’M ONLY TWO GIRLS SHORT OF A THREESOME.”

This will be good.

It’ll be good, and I’ll have fun.

I need this.

Yup. I made the right choice coming home. Seeing the boys will be exactly what I need.

Not that I don’t love my friends at school, but being in my hometown with guys I grew up with just isn’t the same now, is it?

Anyway.

My eyes scan the bumper-to-bumper traffic congesting the arrivals at Terminal 4, searching for the silver SUV my best friend told me his sister would be driving and cursing the massive amounts of silver vehicles passing by.

“A license plate number would have been nice, asshole,” I grumble, shifting the weight of the duffel bag on my shoulder.

Shit. Am I going to remember what Tess Donahue even looks like? I barely paid attention to her when we were growing up. What if she drives past and I don’t see her?

Crap, what color hair did she have? Brown?

Nope—dark, almost black hair, like her brother.

Braces, but those are probably gone, yeah?

I can’t remember if she’s tall, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing I remember about Tess Donahue is that she was always soft-spoken, she was kind of a dork, and she occasionally stammered when she spoke to me.

The duffel bag digs into my shoulder now. It’s packed full of everything I need for four days, considering I don’t plan on staying at my mama’s house. Grady said he’s got enough room for me at his place, and couch surfing suits me just fine.

Damn, it will feel good drinking too much, staying up too late, and blasting the music loud.

I scan the street again.

Silver car, silver car…where the fuck is it?

Grade, tell Tess I’m wearing a bright blue hoodie.

I hit Send, wondering why the hell he never gave me her cell to begin with.

Then.

A gray crossover pulls up—or tries to—getting as close as it can to the curb and myself, the passenger side window rolling down.

“Drew!” The driver yells my name and gives a little wave. “Hey!”

I blink.

I look down at my phone as it buzzes with a reply from my buddy.

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