Page 16 of The Game Plan

“Well, I want to.”

“Haven’t you…” His face goes red, and he looks down at his half-full plate. “Haven’t you heard the rumors?”

“That we’re sleeping together?” I roll my eyes again. “These people need a hobby.”

“You’re just going to feed the fire,” Greg says.

“I don’t care what people say about me, especially when I know it’s not true.” I’m not fussed about rumors. I care even less about strangers’ opinions of me.

Miles won’t meet my eye. “I’m sorry.”

“About what? Being seen with me?” So people are talking about us online. Whatever. Some people have too much time on their hands.

He shakes his head but refuses to elaborate.

“You’re going to get so much shit for hanging out with us,” Greg explains. “They’re going to call you awful names.”

“Like what? Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”

“They’ll say you’re fucking all of us, because you dared to be seen with us,” Tucker says, rolling his eyes. “Just you wait, within two days there will be a rumor that we gang-banged you in front of the entire dining hall.”

Miles grimaces. “You don’t deserve to be dragged down with me.”

“You say that like there’s something shameful about dating you,” I tell him. “There isn’t. There’s absolutely no reason at all a girl should be ashamed of being with you.”

He drags his fork along his plate, not eating. “Wish other people felt that way.”

“People are idiots.”

He coughs out a laugh, some of the color returning to his cheeks. “Yeah, they are.”

“So, Wes, what are you reading?”

Without looking at me, he raises the book so I can see the cover.

“David Baldacci. Nice.”

He grunts, taking a bite of his eggs.

“And you’re all on the football team?”

Amir nods. “Defense.”

“Nice. I went to the game on Saturday. You all played well.”

“Thanks. Always glad to have other athletes in the crowd.”

“Right? It’s so much more meaningful than regular fans in attendance,” I agree. “Not that we have nearly as many people in the stands as you guys do. People will show up for baseball, sure, but they tend to forget softball exists. We’re kind of an afterthought.”

“That’s bullshit,” Tucker says. “Y’all are badass.”

“Thank you! I like to think so.” I beam at him, and he quirks his lips into half a smile.

Barrett is politely curious. “When does your season start?”

“Not until February. We’re still in conditioning season.”

“Oh, gross,” Amir says. “I hate conditioning.”

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