Page 22 of Changing the Play

Darcy looks at me, his excitement palpable. “Exactly!” He’s practically buzzing, and I don’t know if it’s because he’s talking about history or because I’ve actually understood something he was trying to get me to understand. But the way he looks makes it hard to drag my eyes away. “So our offense, the Prussians, keeps trying to advance, but our defense, the French, keeps shutting them down.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “So they just kept trying but got nowhere.”

“Yes.” Darcy flips the notebook over, showing me more notes. “The thing is, after seeing how the French weren’t giving in, the Prussians started to lose confidence. It really shook them up. And they essentially started getting in their own heads. It wasn’t just a physical game, but a mental game as well.”

“So what happened? You can’t just hold a line forever. Something has to give.”

He smiles, like this is the best part. “So the general, the coach, if you will, retreated. Said enough is enough and backed up.”

I blink at him. “Wait? So they didn’t even win? Not really? They just stood their ground until the other guy gave up?”

Darcy shrugs. “A turnover is a turnover.” He winks at me. I’m not sure the comparison is exactly right, but then it hits me that if I didn’tunderstandwhat he was saying, I wouldn’tknowthe comparison didn’t work.

I stare at him in awe for a few seconds. “So, what are your plans after graduation? Career wise?”

He tilts his head to the side. “Uh, that was random, but I want to teach history.”

Somehow that doesn’t surprise me and I should have known. “You’re going to be so good at it.”

His cheeks flush pink, and he smiles. “Thank you. I’m assuming that means you’re understanding the material a little better?”

I nod. “Yeah, in a way I really haven’t before. I can’t believe how quickly you found a way to make it work, Darcy. Really, it’s…” I blow out a breath, not sure how to even finish the sentence.

We spend the next hour going over two more battles using the football play diagram that Darcy has drawn up. It’s honestly so impressive. He met with me one time and found a strategy that worked.

He makes it fun. I’ve never had fun with history. Never.

It doesn’t hurt that every time he quizzes me on something and I get the answer right, he beams at me. It’s this stupidly proud smile that knocks the air out of me. More than once, it’s made my entire stomach feel warm and tingly. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever experienced.

It’s almost like I want him to be proud. Like I want him to see that I’m taking this seriously. And when I don’t understand something, he doesn’t get mad or seem disappointed. He just sits quietly for a second, the wheels in his big, beautiful brain turning until he figures out a new plan of attack and gets right back into it.

Would it be strange to say that I find his intelligence… attractive? Not him, of course. Although, objectively, he is attractive. But that type ofcompetencyis attractive. It’s not all that dissimilar to the way I felt about the starting quarterback in high school my freshman year. He was like Darcy in that he exuded confidence and knowledge. He taught me almost everything I know about football.

By the time we’re finished, I feel prepared for my quiz in a way I usually don’t.

“I made copies of these notes for you to keep in case you wanted to study them some more,” Darcy says, handing me a small stack of papers.

I take them from him with a smile. “I’ll definitely study them. Hey, would you want to go to dinner tonight?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and then draw together in confusion. “Huh?”

“Dinner. You know? Food. The thing we need to live?”

Darcy smiles, but it doesn’t look quite right. Not his usual smile. “No, I know that. I guess it just threw me off that you asked. Uh, I have an early class tomorrow, so I really should be going.”

That makes sense, of course. It shouldn’t disappoint me. Hell, I have an early class tomorrow too, but there’s just something so fun and refreshing about hanging out with him. I think I’d like to do more of it outside of studying. “Okay,” I say with a nod. “Maybe another time?”

He hesitates, but finally nods. “Yeah, okay. Another time.” For a second, he looks like he wants to say something else, but instead he clears his throat. “Study your notes. You better not fail after all the work I’ve put into you.”

I laugh, my stomach feeling light. “All the work? The single tutoring session we had?”

“Hey, it took a lot of time to make those charts and learn about football for you.”

For me. I like that. “Fair. I’ll give you that.”

He laughs, walking to the front door. “Make sure you let me know how you did.”

“I will.”

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