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Sebastian’s phone buzzes, and he pulls it out of his pocket to check it. Xave stretches his neck to peer past his shoulder at the screen.
“Scarr,” Seb tells him, holding out his phone.
That gets my attention.
He pulls his phone back and starts typing. “Just checking in with her ‘cause she had kind of a shitty night Monday. Like, bad enough I had to drive her to Hooks at nine o’clock for a freakin’ chocolate mint milkshake to keep her from hyperventilating.”
Xave chuckles as Seb slips his phone back in his pocket. “Scarr and her chocolate mint milkshakes…”
“Wow.” Maggie’s eyes stretch wide. “Sounds intense.”
Seb grins, thumbing through a basket of card games by the cash register. “You have no idea.”
And the butterflies in my stomach soar. Because he wasn’t hooking up with Scarlett—he was just being a good friend.
“So…” Sebastian flicks one of the loyalty punch cards at me from another basket. “Did you make it to the game last night?”
I feel a twinge of guilt when I tell him I didn’t. But only because he looks so affronted. Meanwhile, Xavier saunters back to their table, leaving me alone with Maggs and Sebastian. I notice Maggs’ gaze trails Seb’s best friend all the way back to the table, though.
“You go to the games?” Sebastian asks her, drawing my colleague’s attention back.
“Football?” she asks.
And I love it, because it’s validation that I’m not the only one who isn’t totally checked in with the whole football scene.
“Yeah, football.” He practically rolls his eyes.
“No, sorry.” Maggie shrugs, her pastel pink hair bobbing around her flawless skin. “Not really my thing. Why? You think I’m missing out?”
Wrong question, Maggie.I want to squeeze her arm to keep her from encouraging him.
“Fuck, yeah!” Sebastian responds. And he launches again into singing the praises of everything football and Friday Night Lights and the rest of his all-American rah rah rah.
He rests his elbows on the counter, leaning in so he’s even closer to me now. “Okay, tell you what,” he says with that scheming glint in his eyes. “If I stay out of trouble for two weeks—like, if I don’t get hauled into Tromely’s office for two weeks of school—you come to our next home game. You and Maggie May, here.”
“You’re not going to be able to pull that off,” I say. “It’s a pointless deal.”
“What?” He stumbles back a step, hand held dramatically against his chest in mock offense. “You don’t believe I can do it?”
My only response is a shrug.
“Wow. How much trouble do you even get into?” Maggie asks, eyeing Sebastian with curiosity now.
“A lot,” I say at the same time as he says, “Notthatmuch.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy,” he says. “But I’ll do it. If it’ll get you out to a game.”
Secretly, I’m flattered he thinks anything is worth betting, just for me to go to one of his football games. Still, I’m not letting him off that easily. If I have to sit through a two-and-a-half-hour Jockfest on a chilly Friday night, I need to make it worth my while.
“Two weeks without getting called into Mrs. Tromely’s office… and no detentions,” I bargain.
His jaw drops. “No detentions? Seriously?”
“Take it or leave it.”
“Come on, NG,” he pleads. “Give me, like, at least a minimum two detention leeway.”
“Nope. Zero detentions. And zero trips to Tromely’s office.”
