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That was the problem. I didn’t know what I wanted. My plan started and ended with saying hi and going from there. Usually I could slide into easy conversation with almost anyone, but Una wasn’t just anyone.
My eyes grazed over her body for a moment, capturing the sight in front of me. Her black boots looked like they had seen a thing or two and her jeans had almost more holes than fabric. But the tight black T-shirt hugged all her curves, and the accessories were so classicallyUna. A black scrunchie with multiple bracelets adorned one hand, and her signature rings dotted her fingers.
Though we could never know what to expect with Una, there were a few things that were perfectly defined her—the braids, the rings, and the glares. The looks that made you second guess everything you’ve ever said in your life and want to hightail it out of her sight as fast as possible.
I swallowed my fears, though, and continued with what I thought I wanted to say next. I had been in such a hurry to get over here, I didn’t really plan anything specific.
“Um, yeah, so…” I hiked up my gym bag higher on my shoulder, then slid my hand to the back of my neck, rubbing away the tension. Or pretending to at least. “Do you need a ride?”
Una stared at me as if I had three heads. Honestly, at that moment, the way she looked at me made me want to grab a mirror and make sure I didn’t. She was very convincing, even without words.
It left me speechless. Which, at this point, was a bad thing. I was a confident guy, and being left without words was an unusual feeling.
“I thought… well, you said the other day…” I drew in a breath, trying to reset myself. “Look, where are you getting your car fixed? I would love to help. My dad owns a dealership with service stations and—”
“Who are you again?” she asked, tilting her head so her long braids fell over her shoulder. She took a sip of root beer from the can she held in one hand, the other holding onto the strap of her bag.
Ouch. That was a direct hit to the heart. Not only because I was the varsity soccer captain on her dad’s team, but the fact that we had spoken in person twice before this.
I couldn’t even pretend to hide the hurt. But I could put on a smile—my armor.
Mustering up my confidence, I pushed my shoulders back and spoke. “Charlie? Charlie Henrikson? Soccer captain? All around nice guy?” I desperately wanted to add a wink to the end of that, but she didn’t seem like the girl who liked winks from guys like me.
It usually made other girls fawn and swoon, but not Una. She wasn’t a swooning kind of girl. That much I could decipher. It wasn’t a good thing for me, though. My entire game rested on my charming personality and ability to get girls to swoon at my feet.
Getting Una to like me would take a lot more work. But I was ready for it. At least, I thought I was.
“I’m good, thanks,” she said before spinning around and walking off. She dug one hand into her pocket and extracted her phone, her thumb poised over the screen.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I blurted out, hurrying after her, my bag slapping against my leg. I held my hands up and took a step back before I got too close, not wanting to get on her bad side. “I wanted to offer you a ride. Sorry…”
Her face returned to neutral and she jutted her chin behind me. “I got one.”
She took off without another word, tossing out the soda can when she passed a trash, her fingers flying over her phone and her head tucked as she walked.
A hand landed on my shoulder a moment later. “Don’t take it personally, Henrikson. She acts that way to everyone. Guess it’ll be easier for you all to stay away from her when she’s like that, huh?”
Coach chuckled, as if it were a funny joke. It wasn’t to me, though. I didn’t want to be just anyone to Una.
He took off after her, both of them heading to his car. I was left on the side, scratching my head, and wondering what had happened.
Did I come off too strong? Did I invade her space?
I was now left with more questions about Una Nielsen than I had before.
But I was even more determined to get the answers.
Chapter 5
Una
“You promised, Una!”Louis shouted way too loudly.
I narrowed my eyes and glared at him, hoping to scare him off without another word. Unfortunately for me, that didn’t seem to be happening.
“I don’t makepromises, Louis. I make deals. Contracts. I fulfilled my portion,” I seethed, shifting from foot to foot. My hands fisted inside of the pocket of my hoodie, my nails digging into my palms to keep myself from getting angry.
“But the contract said—”
