Page 33 of Love Me Steadfast
Nerves spike under my skin but I give her a high ten. “‘Creepin’ In’ would be fun.”
“Hell yes, girl!”
Across the room, Crosby has already chosen his spot with the tenors. I look away, but not before he sees me. Even though I knew he’d be here, I’m not ready to talk to him. Ever since he kissed me, I’ve been avoiding him.
I manage to slip out of choir right at the bell, and I don’t see himagain until lunch. Thankfully I notice him first and manage to steer my friends into the upstairs hall where the French teacher lets us eat in the pod. I’m relieved to discover that the only other class I share with Crosby is AP Lang, but when I get to P.E., I have a bigger problem: William and his homies are heading into the boy’s locker room.
Of course, this would be the one time I see Will each day—in my least favorite place, doing the one thing I suck at.
When I get to my locker, my stomach sinks even deeper into the floor. I’m surrounded by athletes—on my right is a volleyball player and on the left is a soccer star—both, looking completely at ease in this dungeon. Not only because they have all the right clothes to change into—colorful, cute sports bras and tiny little shorts and bright white socks and new sneakers—but they have the rightbody parts. Toned abs and lean, muscular arms tanned by the summer sun and strong, agile legs that know how to kick and run and do everything else.
I hurry into my ugly shorts and too big t-shirt and the same sneakers I wore last year. At least my boobs finally grew and I actuallyneeda sports bra.
After lining up for attendance, we’re ushered out to the field. It’s like being swept up in a herd of wild buffalo—swinging elbows and loud conversations and huffing breaths and thundering feet. I don’t even try to make eye contact with William before he takes off, in the lead. He probably doesn’t even know I’m here.
Could I just accidentally get lost on the way to the field?
“Pick it up, Hannah!” Mr. Paris barks from behind me. Startled, I try to hurry but the buffalo herd just pulls away.
Once we reach the field, I’m able to catch my breath while we’re divided into six teams—thankfully by the two teachers and not by captains choosing because I’d be last—and then we’re set loose on the field to play ultimate frisbee.
I sort of know the rules, but it doesn’t matter because nobody on my team throws me the frisbee. But I run around pretending because the teachers will mark me down if I wander off to make daisy chainslike I did in middle school. When our team plays William’s, I get so distracted watching him operate that I trip over another teammate and crack my chin on someone’s shoulder on my way to the hard ground. A metallic taste fills my mouth, like I’ve bit my cheek.
A shadow looms over me when I roll over to get up.
“You okay?”
With the scent of dry dirt clinging to my nose, I blink up at William, who’s not even breathing hard. “Yeah.”
He offers me a hand, and I reach for it. No sooner do our palms make contact than I’m on my feet, like I weigh nothing.
“You sure?” Behind him, our teams are playing on without us, shouting at each other while zooming up and down the field like a swarm of bees.
Huffing hard, I spit the gross blood into the dirt then lick my teeth to make sure they’re all there. “You get hit like that all the time?”
“That was nothing.” He flashes me the most devastating smile. Straight white teeth and plush lips, his deep blue eyes sparkling like the surface of the ocean on a sunny day. “Padding helps.”
“Right,” I croak.
“Hayes!” one of his teammates shouts, the frisbee soaring his way. Will darts off, snatching it in midair like he levitated, then passes it to another teammate in the end zone to score.
After thirty-nine more minutes of this torture, Mr. Paris finally blows the whistle and everyone heads for the locker room. I would hurry if I had the energy, but it’s a hundred degrees and this is the fastest I’ve moved since the last day of PE freshman year. Thankfully, I’m left alone in my walk of shame.
Because marching band practices right after school, I don’t have to rush off, and I’m the last one to leave the locker room. When I step outside, the sudden brightness makes me squint.
“Charlie?”
For an instant, I think it’s William, and if my heart were a kite, it wouldfill the sky.
But my eyes adjust, and the kite bursts into flames. “Crosby? What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.” He smiles, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s disarming how honest he is sometimes. “You’re going to band, right? I’m walking that way.”
Nerves kick up beneath my diaphragm as he falls in next to me.
“How was your first day?” He moves a little closer to me so our arms almost touch.
Is he going to try to hold hands with me? “Not bad. How about you?”
