Four
Zane
I thinkI’m crushing on this girl. I can’t even remember the last time I felt this way. I guess it was with Andrea, back when we started dating, because I certainly haven’t allowed myself to even consider the possibility of dating or liking anyone since then. I’m not sad over my ex or anything. It’s more like I’m traumatized. I mean, how can one girl go from being a pretty cool chick to being completely evil in the blink of an eye?
I shudder. I’m so glad Andrea is out of my life. I was a dumb, clueless sophomore when we were dating. She acted like I was lucky to have her, and I had been stupid enough to believe her. She made me feel like the only good quality I had was being her boyfriend. For an entire year, my whole life consisted of two things: football and Andrea.
Then she dumped me for the quarterback.
She had tried to be all friendly about it—saying we should remain friends and all that—but in the end, she just started spreading rumors about me and treating me like crap. I was blindsided in two ways. One, I didn’t even realize my girlfriend had decided to dump me until she walked into school holding Jorge’s hand. And two, I somehow was stupid enough to believe that she and I could somehow be friends after we broke up.
Her betrayal set the entire team at each other’s throats because half of my teammates were on my side, and half were on Jorge’s side. Coach blamed me because somehow it was my fault for “bringing girl problems onto the field,” but if you ask me, Jorge should have never stolen my girl. After we started losing games, Andrea realized she screwed up things for everyone, because she was obsessed with football and didn’t want to be dating someone who lost games. Whether her boyfriend was me or Jorge, we were both losers since we were on the same team.
Andrea eventually sent me a long text apologizing for her awful behavior. She’d said it was a hard decision to make because she liked me a lot but she also liked Jorge. When it came down to it, she’d said, her boyfriend needed to be pro football material. She’d spent her whole life looking forward to marrying a famous football player and living out some rich and famous life as an NFL Wife. She chose Jorge.
Sweet, sweet justice prevailed, however. Jorge got arrested for driving drunk and the cops found drugs in his car. So at the age of seventeen, he went straight to jail and lost all his chances for becoming a professional NFL player. I still smirk when I think about it.
I smirk now, as I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror while I brush my teeth. Today is my first day of school at Brazos High. I’ve never been the new guy at a school before. Back in Conroe, I’d gone to the same school since kindergarten, so the first days of school weren’t a big deal. This one feels like a big deal. I already met the football team, but it was brief. I can’t even remember any of their names. I’ll have to get a schedule and then be the new guy in each class, which doesn’t sound fun. But at least I’ll have practice after school. I always feel at home when I’m playing football.
My first day of school anxieties are overshadowed by the nervous excitement I feel about seeing Zara again. She agreed to ride to school with me. I was so nervous to ask her, but I’m glad I did. Football practice starts twenty minutes after the final class of the day, so I’ll have time to bring her back home. I wonder if girls stay and watch practice here like they did at my old school?
I shake my head. Whoa. I can’t believe I’m already thinking of Zara as a girl who would watch me at practice. That’s what girlfriends do. I barely know her. She might even have a boyfriend, which would be devastating to my heart right now since I’ve decided that definitely have a crush on her.
Dad has already left for work when I emerge from my bedroom, but my mom is drinking coffee and sitting at the kitchen table, which is surrounded in boxes. “Good morning,” she says cheerfully. Then she looks me over and lifts an eyebrow.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
I look down and shrug. I’m wearing jeans and Dallas Cowboys shirt. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing,” Mom says quickly. She peers at me over her cup of coffee.
“Clearly something?”
“Well… don’t you want to make a good impression on your first day at a new school?”
I don’t really care about what these people will think of me. But I do care about what Zara will think of me… “Good call,” I say as I turn and walk back to my bedroom. I change into a black button up shirt and then roll the sleeves up my arms a bit. My jeans are in good shape with no stains or holes, so they look good. I change out my Nikes for black leather shoes.
Mom gives me a thumbs up when I emerge again.
When I walk out my front door, I look next door and see Zara sitting on a wicker chair on her front porch. I breathe a little sigh of relief for two reasons. One, she smiles at me and she looks beautiful. And two, I was a little nervous to go ring her doorbell. What if her parents answered and then told me I wasn’t good enough to hang out with their daughter? Her dad had seemed nice when I met him yesterday, but you never know.
“Ready?” I ask as I walk across the grass to her front yard.
“Yep.” She stands and slings a pink backpack over her shoulder. She’s wearing black yoga pants and a pink T-shirt that looks soft. Her dark hair is braided and hangs down her back. I absolutely adore how beautiful she is.
She looks over at me as I start my truck. “Are you nervous?”
Yep. Extremely nervous to be sitting here with you.
I swallow and shove back the thoughts. She clearly meant am I nervous about school. “Kind of,” I say. “I keep picturing that it’ll be like how it is on movies where the teachers make me stand at the front of the class and introduce myself.”
She laughs. “Nah, I doubt it. Teachers never care when we get new students.”
We talk on the short drive to my new high school. Zara shows me how to take a back road that leads to the student parking lot and bypasses a lot of traffic from the front of the school. I love that we can talk about random things. Not once does the conversation turn to football and Zara’s desire to become a famous NFL wife. Maybe that’s because she doesn’t have those desires.
Or maybe she just doesn’t know I’m set to play college football and then maybe, if I’m lucky, go pro. I wonder if she’d become just like Andrea if she did know. The idea fills me with dread.
“No frowny faces,” she says, nudging me with her fingers. “I promise your first day of school won’t be too bad. The people here are pretty chill.”
