Page 87 of The Game Plan

Elle Woods is a badass. She applies to Harvard Law School to win back her ex-boyfriend—and she gets in.

I don’t have a way to win back Miles. I can’t magically win a position on the men’s football team. I can’t make him see reason.

I’ve been single before. I’ll probably be single again. I didn’t expect Miles and I to last forever. But I rather thought we’d make it more than two and a half weeks before it ended. I thought we were happy. I thought we were in a good place. It turns out I don’t know nearly as much as I thought I did.

Chapter thirty-three

Miles

GregtellsmeI’mbeing a dick. I don’t fucking care.

She crossed the line. She’s the one who did the unforgivable.

It’s been three days since my hearing. Three days since I ended things with Sam. I can’t sleep. I don’t want to eat. I can’t focus on anything, not my linear algebra test or my English paper, not the TV or the video games my roommates want me to play. All I can think about is her.

Her, barging into a meeting she had no business being part of.

Her, with the devastating smiles and the innocent laughter.

Her, with the video that condemns me to a lifetime of hell.

Her, with the easy acceptance of me, the good and the bad and the ugly.

Her, with the knife in my back.

Her, with the beautiful body and the gorgeous pussy I want to bury myself in, again and again and again.

Her, with the meddlesome need to always be right.

And then at night, when I lay awake in my bed mourning her absence beside me, I’m treated to the greatest hits of O’Rourke’s best taunts. Tubby. Fatso. Loser. Pussy. Weak.

I hate this. I hate him. I hate her.

I don’t hate her. I love her.

But she hurt me. She betrayed me. She had no business interfering in my private disciplinary matter.

A one-game suspension is practically nothing. It’s a slap on the wrist. I’m a first time offender with a stellar record, and they have video proof that O’Rourke started it. It’s not a difficult decision—for them or for me.

It sucks that the game I have to sit out is Parents’ Weekend. Then again, nearly every weekend is parents’ weekend for me. My family is set on coming to the game whether or not I’m playing. They’re going to take me to dinner after, and it’ll be like nothing is wrong.

They don’t need a tour of campus; they both went here. Besides, they’ll be back the next weekend, when Mack is spending the weekend with me. And they’ll be back the weekend after that, for the Veterans Day game. Then we have an away game, and I’m sure they’ll travel to that, too.

They’re there for me. They support me unconditionally.

And I know that’s what Sam was trying to do. She wanted to support me. But I don’t need her support. I don’t want to be weak in front of her. I want to prove to her that I’m strong, that I can handle it.

Even if I can’t.

Because it’s Parents’ Weekend, I convince Coach to allow me to sit up in the stands with my family. It’s not like I’m much use sitting on the sidelines in my suit. I can’t call plays or hand out water—all I can do is sit there. So I might as well sit with my family.

Ash talks my ear off about her cheer competition and her newest girlfriend, a girl who’s on the team at the rival high school. Ash is always finding new girlfriends, dating them for a few weeks, and then dumping them.

I guess we have that in common now.

“Where’s your friend, honey?” Mom asks, smoothing out a wrinkle in my scarf.

“Not here.”

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