Page 5 of The First Play

I give her a “well, duh” look, and she cracks up laughing. “Her name’s Sienna, Romeo.” With a little wink, she glides past us, and Kyle starts looking all triumphant.

“See, I told you it was a mountain range.”

I give Noah a quizzical frown before we both turn to Kyle.

“What?” He glances between us likewe’rethe idiots.

With a soft snicker, I shake my head, and Noah mutters, “Yeah, want to point out the Sienna Ranges to me on a map, genius?”

Kyle glares at us both, pulling out his phone and getting all huffy and indignant. “I’ll prove it, you little fuckers.” We wait for his thumbs to fly over the screen before he stills, goes kind of red, and then shoves his phone back into his pocket. “I hate you both,” he murmurs, and I can’t help snorting out a laugh while Noah cracks up and slaps him on the back.

“Next time, buddy. I’m sure you’ll be right once in your life.”

Kyle growls in his throat, then gulps down a few more mouthfuls of beer while Noah tries and fails to stop laughing.

I’ve managed because my focus is now back on Sienna.

Sienna.

Pretty name.

Perfect for a girl like her. It’s got this foreign, kind of elusive quality to it, and it seems to sum her up somehow.

I don’t know where she comes from or if she has an accent or… anything about her.

I just know I have to talk to her, and standing around laughing at what a clueless douche Kyle is won’t help me do that.

Downing the last of my Solo cup, I hand it to Noah and softly murmur, “I’m going in.”

He snickers. “Good luck, lover boy.”

I walk away from their hassles. I’m not usually the guy who goes and chats up a girl. They tend to come to me. I’m not being arrogant—it’s just the way it is.

I’m no party animal or ladies’ man, but being the star quarterback on our school team gives me status, and for some reason, girls think I’m cool. I try to be nice to them when they talk to me. I smile and laugh the way I know I should, but with football and studying, it’s not like I have time to date and mess around. So I tend to keep things light, and girls get annoyed with me, calling me aloof and arrogant.

I don’t give a shit what they think about me. Football’s my life. Nothing else matters.

But I might just make an exception tonight…

As I weave through the crowd, my insides jitter with fiery anticipation. There’s something kind of thrilling about making the first move.

I can’t go screwing this up.

Because of all the girls I’ve ever seen or met, this one is special. I can already tell. Something inside me is calling, like a voice buried deep within that’s just been waiting for this moment.

I’m three steps away when she glances up and sees me coming.

Her blue eyes are so vibrant, and they round just a little when they spot me. Her glossy lips part, her pale skin flushing pink seconds before I stop right in front of her.

“Hey.” I smile, my mouth tipping up at the corner.

Shit, is my smile cool enough, or do I look like a dork?

I clear my throat, shoving my hands into my letterman jacket pockets and hoping she’s into athletes.

She’s still staring at me, her cheeks turning even redder.

“I haven’t seen you around before. You’re new, right?” I lean forward, aware of the excited gazes all around me. The girls are being so fucking obvious as they watch me make my move.

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