AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m a wreck during morning practice. This is probably my worst practice ever, but Coach Young doesn’t seem to mind. It could be because everyone else is a mess too.
“I have a calculus exam in two hours,” JT says, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights, when one of the trainers asks her why she can’t nail down a drill.
“And I have two exams today,” Chelsea volunteers with a cringe. “One is oral.”
Coach Young puts her hands on her hips and glares up and down the line of Strikes. “You need to learn to perform under pressure, no matter what.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
But the second she blows the final whistle, everyone runs into the locker room to get ready for the academic side of this college gig we got going on. I take a record-breaking quick shower and spend most of my available time blow-drying my hair to perfection and applying makeup good enough for TV.
“Va-va-voom.” Chelsea whistles behind me. “Are you sure you’re okay with becoming a killer? Because people are going to die when they see you like this.”
“You think?” I smack my lips as I finish applying the red lipstick. Aside from it, the rest of the makeup is simple and muted, just highlighting the contours of my face and eyes. I take a bracing breath once I’m done, and say, “Wish me luck for this presentation, ladies.”
“You won’t need it. They’ll be too dead to even hear what you’re saying.” JT laughs, and I appreciate the sentiment.
I want to dazzle the class with the excellent work we’ve done. This is just the final battle armor I need to brook no doubt that I mean business.
Max waits for me in his truck. If anyone who sees us leave together wants to give us crap, we have excuses. First, it’s freezing, and second, we’re going to the same class. I hop in the passenger seat and stop.
He has slicked his hair back with wax and, along with his well-tailored coat, he looks one hundred percent like the rich guys that pullulate on campus.
“Ready?” Max asks.
“Yeah.” It takes me a moment longer to realize he’s talking about the presentation and not about taking this a step further. “Uh, I mean, absolutely. They won’t know what hit them.”
Neither do I. The moment we find our seats in the classroom and Max removes his scarf and coat, I realize I’m not ready for the strength of my emotions. He’s in a suit and a St. Cloud blue tie. The quiet confidence with which he wears it is probably due to the fact that he wears these suits after every game. But even then, it fits him perfectly enough to not hide the power in his shoulders, arms, and thighs.
Max catches me, frozen in the act of removing my own coat. “Need help?”
“Yes.”
But not the kind he gives me. While he removes my coat, I beg my lungs to work at normal capacity again. I cannot climb this man like a tree in the middle of this classroom.
A little hiss behind me gets my attention. “Luz, I did not bring my stick.”
“What?”
“So I can beat other men off you.”
As we take our seats, I lean closer to him. “Flattery won’t get you further than you already are.”
Max cocks an eyebrow at me. Somehow, he keeps it locked in place even as I place a hand on his knee. The only reaction comes from his muscles, which tighten into rock-solid form. He puts his hand on mine, and we stay like that until the lecturer comes.
By the time our turn comes, you wouldn’t think we only slept for three hours, with the way we walk down to the podium. Or by the way we speak with equal levels of confidence, leveling our stares on the panel of investors that will be grading us.
While Max presents as though he’s been doing business for years, I take a moment to glance at our classmates. Brett nods with a frown on his face, as if he can’t quite believe he agrees with what his roommate is saying. Every girl is rapt, probably going through the same thought process as I did when I first saw him in this suit. One of the investors looks half in love with Max too. Meanwhile, the lecturer has a perfect poker face that doesn’t fool me. He’s surprised by how good we are.
The closing remarks are mine, so I step back up to the podium. Max’s hand brushes against mine as we exchange places, and I draw strength from the little touch.
I look at him and take a deep breath.
“Business is not supposed to be about emotions.” I fix my attention on the panel, even though I’d rather look into Max’s eyes forever. “But this idea was born from the paraspinal scar on my back. I was once one of the patients we hope to serve with your support. And in a healthcare business like this, no one will care to make it flourish as much as someone who once lost everything she knew. With your help, we can make a difference in someone else’s life too. That’s why we’re asking you to please invest in our proposal.” I manage to deliver all that with an unwavering voice, up until the closer. “Th-Thank you very much.”
My heart beats as fast as if I were in the middle of a breakaway, with the opportunity to either score or fail to put my team on the scoreboard.
The panel deliberates in hushed whispers. I stand beside Max and link my pinky with his. This assignment is pass or fail, a vote on investment or a rejection of the business plan. Only a third of the previous groups passed.
