Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“Finn,” I whisper, but he’s already shaking his head at me again.
“It’s just how it has to be, Scottie.”
I stare at him for a long moment, my eyes searching his, desperately trying to understand why he’s doing this. From where I stand, it makes no freaking sense. It’s like he’s afraid to get too close to me.
Or maybe all your ex-boyfriend drama has turned him off entirely? It’s not exactly made the first few weeks of school easy for him.
I guess the reason doesn’t matter if his decision is final anyway.
“So, that’s it?” I question, my stupid, betraying bottom lip quivering. I quickly dig my teeth into it to force it to stop. “You don’t even want to be friends?”
“I’m sorry.”
My heart thrums so hard in my chest, I’m afraid it’ll escape. “Okay, Finn. If that’s what you want, then fine. If you don’t want me to need you, I don’t.”
When he doesn’t respond, when he doesn’t even look up in my direction, again, I can’t stop myself from adding, “But mark my words…you’ll regret it.”
He looks up then, a smile touching his lips that’s laced with the kind of all-encompassing sadness I’m afraid I’ll never understand. “I know I will, Scottie.”
The air I’ve just inhaled catches in my lungs and holds.
“But that doesn’t change anything.”
Saturday, October 5th
Finn
The afternoon sun bounces off the gold helmets of the Dickson Dragons football team, and the crowd goes from ear-bending volume to silent as they line up on the five yard line.
“Mark my words, we’re converting on this down, and we’re doing it on the ground,” Ace states confidently, his eyes fixated on the field. “Blakey Boy is going to score this TD.”
“You think Boden’s running it in?” I question incredulously. With Blake’s arm and more than a couple yards to go, I’m expecting them to throw it.
“Hell yeah.” Ace flashes a smirk in my direction. “All those orange defensive fuckers are clearly preparing for the pass just like the rest of you chumps.” He points to me and Julia and three of his other friends who surround us.
The Pennington Tigers are our biggest opponents in our division, and following their last possession and touchdown, the game is tied. I glance at the scoreboard—24 to 24, fourth quarter, two minutes left on the clock, third down.
Blake better make this one count.
He calls for the snap, and both teams jump into action. He fakes a handoff to Reggie Banks, our top running back, and his O line holds their position against the Tigers’ defense. Boden cradles the ball to his chest, jumping over their strong safety as he dives for his ankles, and runs it straight into the end zone.
“Touchdown, Blake Boden!” the announcer shouts, his voice so loud, the stadium shakes. The crowd goes nuts with cheers and applause.
Ace fist-pumps the air and gives me a high five before free-falling into the people behind us, who catch him and laugh. The band dives into Dickson University’s fight song, and we all sing along—Ace at the top of his lungs, of course.
“By Dragon’s fire, you’re dust to us! Dickson U, in Dragons we trust!”
“I fucking told you he was going to run it in!” Ace bellows, and we high-five again.
Tommy Slate hits the extra point with ease, and Ace wraps his arm around Julia’s shoulder and playfully swings her back and forth while the instrumental crescendo builds once again. “Jules, tell our defense they better fucking hold the line!”
Julia laughs and punches him away with gentle hands while the cheerleaders run on the field, gold pom-poms in the air during the TV broadcast timeout. I watch unabashedly—because everyone else is too, and somewhere in my delusion of the last couple of weeks, that excuse makes sense.
Since the confrontation in Brower Center, Scottie has kept her distance from me. She hasn’t texted or called or even looked in my direction in class, for that matter. She’s done exactly as I suggested and moved on from me completely.
I’m such a fucking idiot.
Scottie smiles and claps her hands along with her fellow cheerleaders as they all shout something about the Dragons' defense in synchronicity. The crowd follows their enthusiastic lead, as they climb into some sort of stunt formation that sends Scottie shooting into the air like a freaking rocket.
“Holy shit!” Ace remarks, watching her as she flips in the air and lands in the arms of the girls below her.
They catch her with ease, and Scottie is back on the ground, clapping and cheering along with her team.
“Woo!” Julia cheers, throwing both hands above her head enthusiastically. “Go, Scottie! Badass bitchhhh!”
I had zero plans of coming to this game—rather, my strategy was to avoid it just like I have with all the others. Then I wouldn’t be here staring at a girl I have no business staring at like some kind of sap.