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“Why are you not House Alfera if Don Alfera is your uncle?” I asked to prove I had been paying attention.
“I was born into the Alfera family, on my mother’s side. My parents and Don Alfera had a falling out several years ago. I almost didn’t come to Midtown High my freshman year. Thankfully, Mom was able to procure a sponsorship from Don Salvatore. You met her.”
“Signoria Vittoria is a Don?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “Good, you’re finally getting it.” She ambled toward the tapestry done in deep golds with a panther as the mascot and the word guardian over a symbol that looked like a Greek temple.
I was surprised they hadn’t chosen a dragon. I supposed all of these symbols and mascots were chosen a century ago, way before Signoria Vittoria’s time.
“I can’t imagine going to any other school. Can you? Oh, actually you can, because you have.” She shook her hand in disbelief. As if the idea of public school was a real horror. She released a breath, then checked her watch. “If we’re lucky, I bet we can still catch the varsity football tryouts. The seniors are putting the sophomores through the ringer today. Should be fun to watch.”
Finally. A high school football team was something I understood. Last year, before I stopped going to school because we lost our home, I had made the cheerleading squad. The rumors about Mom turning tricks in a motel quickly spread. Even though she had only done it once, everyone assumed she’d become a prostitute. Within the week, the PTA moms found a way to kick me out of school for misconduct.
I was okay with it. After the motel incident, I had no friends and the boys assumed I was for sale too. They cornered me outside the cafeteria constantly, offering to double Mom’s fee. Something they made up, of course. Mom’s fee for sleeping with Dad’s boss had been Dad’s life. One guy even offered me five hundred dollars. That day I went home and cried myself to sleep. Not because I had been insulted by his assumption. I had been angry at myself for considering it.
I had nothing against sex workers. I just hated that my classmates had chosen that path for me because of something Dad brought onto himself—because Mom stepped in to save him.
“Hello?” Penny squeezed my upper arm and shook me a little. “Did you hear what I said? What do you think?”
I had followed her down a hallway and a set of steps, pretty much blindingly. I hadn’t realized we were now outside facing the football field. I sighed. Even if my cheerleading career had been brief and painful, the deep green lawn and hint of sweat in the air felt like home.
“It’s beautiful here. I can’t even tell we’re still in the city.”
She ushered me toward the bleachers, where we sat to watch the boys run drills. The players wore practice jerseys and helmets so I couldn’t really see their faces. Not that it mattered. I didn’t know anybody anyway.
“So, are they any good?”
“Are you seriously asking that? They’re state champs. We have the best coaches money can buy.”
“Of course you do.” I laughed, letting my gaze swipe back to the field, where Coach had moved on to organize the sophomores into three teams.
Football tryouts were definitely not for the faint-hearted. The guys looked pretty beat up and ready to throw in the towel. A handful of them joined their assigned teams, and then, dropped to the lawn in a heap of tired bones.
As soon as the varsity team charged onto the field, most of the underclassmen jumped to their feet, except for one. Penny raised her brows and sat up taller to get a better view. One of the varsity members broke away from the group. With long, assured strides, he made his way to the sophomore still on the ground and loomed over him.
Then my jaw dropped because I recognized that face. The buzzing in my ears made it impossible to hear what he said next. “Blue looks good on you.”His words echoed in my head. My mystery guy from Tiffany’s was here.
“Get up.” His deep voice carried across the entire field. “Coach didn’t say you could take a break.” He kicked the younger boy’s cleats. After a breath, he exchanged a glance with Coach, who simply shrugged. “On second thought. You’re out. Grab your gear and go.”
The sophomore jerked to his feet and puffed up his chest, all red-faced with his jaw clenched as if the words “go to hell” were on the tip of his tongue. His furrowed brows made it clear he didn’t think anyone other than Coach could dismiss him—especially not like that, in front of everyone.
Two other seniors joined in and flanked their friend, glaring at the sophomore. It was overkill since they were all so much taller than the other guy. After a few beats of a standoff, the sophomore finally conceded and stormed off the field.
“Who are they?” I asked Penny. Though I really only cared about the stranger from Tiffany’s. He was here. And I was fairly certain he was a student.
“The Royals. No one messes with them. I think that kid was too tired to realize who he was dealing with. I mean, that’s our QB.”
My mystery guy motioned for the first team of sophomores to huddle around him, while Coach paced the sideline with his arms over his chest. So he was a senior at Midtown High and the varsity quarterback. Of course he was.
The team listened intently as the QB ran them through the play. His voice carried a confident tone to it, like he’d done this run a thousand times.
Every one of his words pelted on my chest like raindrops on a tin roof. I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat, so I wouldn’t miss what he’d say or do next. Back at Tiffany’s, I didn’t get a chance to look at him. I did now. His physique was impressive and exactly what a quarterback should look like—tall, broad shoulders, and a flat stomach that I was sure was all muscle. With every move he made, his tight pants stretched to reveal more planes and valleys over his thighs and butt.
Jeez, the guy was built like a Greek statue.
“What do you meanthe Royals?” I couldn’t stop looking at him. I couldn’t stop thinking of those hazel eyes and the pull I felt when he grazed the nape of my neck.
“They’re next-in-line to be Dons.”
