Page 17 of The Game We Played

He doesn’t answer. Too busy glaring at one of the women sunbathing in a barely there bikini. His nostrils flare. This is going to be fun. I’m glad I decided to come to the island early to hang out with my teammates.

“All right,” Gage says, clapping once. “Next play.”

“Finally,” I mutter. “Some professionalism around here.”

“Run a route,” Nolan says.

“Wow. Groundbreaking strategy.”

I take off anyway, sprinting down the stretch of packed sand near the waterline. The breeze hits my face, the sound of waves crashing in my ears. This is the good part. The part where everything else disappears.

I cut left, then right, kicking up sand behind me. Nolan launches the ball. Perfect spiral. I leap, snagging it out of the air a mere second before Corbin barrels into me.

“Too slow!” I shout as I land, stumbling a little before regaining my balance.

Corbin glares at me. “One of these days, I’m going to flatten you.”

He could have flattened me now if he wanted to. Corbin has two inches and at least fifty pounds on me.

“You have to catch me first.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Boys,” Gage says. “Focus.”

“You should talk,” I shoot back. “You’ve been staring at your phone every five seconds.”

“I have not.”

“You have.”

He opens his mouth to argue but stops. “Shut up.”

“Ah.” I feign sympathy. “Is your singer still ignoring you?”

“Mind your own business.”

“Can’t. Your business is too entertaining.”

“Throw the ball,” Corbin snaps.

“Someone’s cranky.”

“Just go.”

I jog back into position, chuckling.

We line up again. Nolan calls the play, and this time Gage has the ball, weaving through us as if we don’t exist. He’s fast. Annoyingly fast.

“Show-off,” I holler.

“Scoreboard,” he shoots back.

“We don’t have a scoreboard!”

“Exactly.”

For a few minutes, it’s only this – running routes, talking trash, sand in places I’m going to regret later. No coaches. No expectations. No—