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"That's a waste of time, Monika," he says, cutting me off. "Besides, I don't need the nurse or random people knowing my business." He almost looks pissed that I've given him the suggestion.
My stomach does these little flips. "Okay."
"The late bell is about to ring. I'll see you later," he says hurriedly.
I get a sinking feeling that something's not right with Trey. I tell myself it's first-day-of-school nerves because he wants to succeed and be the best in school and football.
But what if it's something else?
Chapter Five
VICTOR
Football practices with Coach Dieter are brutal, especially in the summer when it's hot as hell outside. The official start of football season is on Friday, so Dieter is working us hard.
After school, we're required to be in the workout room for an hour. I'm about to join my teammates when I see Heather Graves standing next to the entrance. She's wearing sunglasses and looks nervous.
"Hi Vic," she says. "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure," I say. "What's up?"
She takes off her sunglasses, revealing a nasty bruise under her eye. Not surprising considering the way her boyfriend clocked her. "I, um, just wanted to talk to you about last night. Joe gets riled up easily but I swear that was the first time he was rough with me. Anyways, I came here to thank you."
She says it like I'm some superhero, but I don't go around looking for people to rescue. I did what anyone would do if they saw a girl get hit. "No guy should hit a girl," I tell her. "Ever."
She looks at the ground. "I know. I just... he just gets like that when he drinks. He's got a dad who treats him like crap."
"My old man treats me like crap, and I never hit a girl," I tell her.
She sighs. Then nods.
"We broke up." She swipes a tear away, then straightens. "I gotta go. Sorry I bothered you."
She lunges forward to envelop me in a hug, then runs off.
When I turn around, Jet is leaning against the opposite wall. He's obviously been watching the entire interaction.
"It was cool what you did for her," he says. "Did you know her boyfriend was a badass in martial arts before you tried to kick his ass, or after?"
"During," I tell him, earning a laugh.
"Yo, Vic," Trey calls out when I enter the workout room and jump on a treadmill. "You'll have to ramp up your speed if you aspire to be half as fast as me."
Trey and I always have competitions. I watch as he sets his speed faster than mine.
"I've been runnin' all summer, bro," I say, keeping up my pace. "You're not gonna be the fastest on the team for long." I set my speed to match his.
His answer is a hearty laugh as he ups his speed once again.
"Showoffs," Ashtyn calls out from across the room as she bench-presses with her boyfriend and our quarterback, Derek, spotting her. She's the kicker so she doesn't need to have crazy developed arm strength, but she likes to push herself to the limit like me. That's probably why we're friends. We get each other... well, except for her relationship with Derek Fitzpatrick, aka "The Fitz." I don't get them at all. They argue all the time, and listening to them bicker like an old married couple drives me nuts.
"Rumor has it Cassidy wants you to ask her to homecoming," Ashtyn tells me after she finishes her set and wipes her sweaty brow with a girly pink towel.
"Not happenin'."
"You have to ask someone. You can't just not go to homecoming our senior year, Vic."
"Umm... yeah I can."
She sighs. "Listen, Salazar, you're going to homecoming whether you want to or not."
"You weigh a buck twenty, tops," I tell her. "You think you can force me to do anythin'?"
"Yes." She pats me on the back. "And I want you to be happy."
Happy? That's a joke. I step off the treadmill and go to the water station.
She follows.
In a moment of weakness last year, I told Ashtyn I was in love with Monika. At first she laughed and thought I was kidding. But then she looked at the deadly serious expression on my face and knew it was true.
She's the only one who knows besides my cousin Isabel, and both swore they wouldn't tell anyone.
Ashtyn takes a gulp of water, then looks at me with pity written all over her face. "Ask someone to homecoming. Don't you like anyone else even a little?"
Besides the one girl I can't have?
"Nope."
"All right, everyone," Coach Dieter calls out in a booming voice. "Meet me on the field in full gear in exactly fifteen minutes. Whoever's late is getting the pleasure of running extra laps. It's almost ninety degrees out there, guys, so unless you want an abundance of sweat in your jock straps, you better be out there on time."
Nobody wants extra laps in this heat, so we all rush to the locker room to put on our gear. Ash disappears into the girls locker room.
Trey's locker is next to mine. He sighs as he stands in front of it.
"How should I ask Monika to homecoming?" he asks us. "I want to do something that'll shock her in a good way."
Oh, man. More homecoming talk? I'd rather talk about sweaty jockstraps at this point. Or poking needles in my eyes.
"Write HC on a cookie in frosting and call it a day," Jet says.
"That's been done, like, a bazillion times before," Derek chimes in. "I'm gonna ask Ashtyn by writing it on one of the footballs tomorrow night. When she practices during the game, she'll find it."
"What if she doesn't find it?" Jet says with a cocky grin. "What if our backup kicker, Jose Herrejon, finds it instead? You gonna go to homecoming with Jose?"
"Don't worry. Leave the romantic shit to me. My plans never fail." Derek gestures to Jet. "So what poor girl are you askin', Jet?"
Jet wags his brows. "I was thinking about asking Bree. At least I know she'll put out."
I toss my cleat at him.
Jet tosses my cleat back, then looks in the mirror at the only thing he cares about besides his car: his hair. "Who are you gonna ask, Salazar?" he asks as he studies himself in the mirror and makes sure his hair is perfectly spiked. I don't remind him that in two minutes he'll have a helmet on that'll squash all that hair.
"Nobody," I say. "I'm not goin'."
"We all have to go," Trey says. "It's tradition."
"You can't break tradition," Jet agrees.
Trey holds a hand up. "Don't worry, guys. I'll figure out how to get our resident bachelor to go to homecoming, but give me some ideas on how to ask Monika. I swear I have so much shit going on, I can't think straight."
"Maybe you should stop taking all those AP classes and join the normal people in the regular classes, Trey," Jet tells him. "Didn't you get the memo that senior year is supposed to be a blowoff year?"
"Not when you're trying to be valedictorian, dumbass," Trey says.
"Jocks can't be valedictorians," Jet says. "You'll throw the balance of the universe way off if that happens. I'm a jock. I'm supposed to be a dumbass." He points to me. "And look at Salazar here... his brain doesn't even function at full capacity."
I push him away. "Fuck you. I got brains. I just dumb it down when I'm with you so you'll understand what I'm sayin'."
Jet laughs. "For sure, bro."
"Jet, it's a scientific fact that nobody's brain functions at full capacity," Trey chimes in. "Just tell me what to do for Monika."
Shit, if I were to ask a girl like Monika to homecoming I'd want to make sure she'd remember it forever. I nudge Trey's shoulder to get his attention. "What about doin' somethin' on the football field? Get the band to do some romantic song across the field and have a picnic dinner for her waitin' on the fifty-yard line."
Jet fake gags. "That's a dorky idea, Vic. Dude, just take her to Wild Adventures amusement park and ask her when you're going down one of the roller coasters. She'll remember that!"
"Roller coaster! I like it," Trey says, his face lighting up at the thought. "Thanks, Jet. That's brilliant."
Roller coa
ster? "Doesn't Monika hate roller coasters?" I ask him, preferring my picnic on the field idea way better. It's more... Monika. She's beautiful and delicate and always talks about romantic movies.
"I'll hold her hand and make it romantic." He winks. "I got this."
"Two minutes left, guys!" yells Mr. Huntsinger, the assistant coach. "Get your butts on the field now or Coach Dieter will make your lives miserable!"
Shit. With all the talk about homecoming, we're running late. All the other guys on the team have disappeared and are probably already doing calisthenics. I quickly pull on my gear and run outside with Jet, Trey, and Derek. Coach Dieter is standing on the field, completely focused on his watch.
"You four are late by one minute and eleven seconds," he says, then glares at us. "I expect a lot more from you seniors. Go run four laps, stopping at the water table after each one to rehydrate."
Damn. I drop my helmet and start running. The four of us are sweating our asses off as the sun beats down on us.
To be honest, three of us are dripping with sweat. Trey isn't breaking a sweat or even breathing hard.
Trey is like a machine, always ready to run, to challenge every one of us to prove that he's faster. It's like a game to him--he knows he'll always win. One day I'll beat him though. It's an ego thing.
"Remind me never to be late again," Jet says. "Dieter wasn't kidding. My balls are so sweaty they're stickin' to my jockstrap."
"I have an idea," Derek pipes in.
"About our sweaty balls?" Jet asks, grabbing himself and shifting his package without a care that a bunch of girls are watching from the bleachers.
"No. Well, maybe," Derek says. "It's about homecoming. We should all stay at my grandmother's place for the after-party."
Jet holds his hands up. "Your grandmother is a complete hardass, Derek. Hell, she'd probably scare the crap out of Coach Dieter if he met her."
