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I turn my gaze to Walter. “Who is this?” I ask him. “This football player who’s a guy?”
“Adler Beck,” Walter replies peevishly.
“And is Adler Beck good at football?”
“Yes.” Walter has lost a little bit of his bravado suddenly. Either it’s because we’re in front of more of his peers, or because Beck is present. Since he’s had no trouble tossing sass at me in front of the other kids until now, I’m pretty sure it’s the latter. Which only annoys me more.
“And who am I?”
Walter looks at me with confusion. “Saylor,” he mutters.
“Am I a girl?”
“I guess. A grown-up one.” I almost smile at that but force my face to remain serious.
“And girls can’t play football as well as boys, right?”
Walter crosses his arms. “Right.”
I grin, grabbing a ball from the mesh bag set on the sidelines. “Fine.”
I drop the ball and start dribbling. Belatedly, I realize I maybe should have clued Beck into my plan a little bit more, but all of a sudden, he’s there, right beside me. A spin, and he’s blocking my path to the goal. He’s not guarding me as aggressively as I know he’s capable of, but I’m having to work for every inch of ground I gain.
“Don’t you dare let me win.”
He doesn’t reply. Maybe he’s annoyed with me for turning this into a spectacle.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that everyone on the field is watching us. Thankfully, the photographers departed after getting a few shots. I can only imagine the headline that might accompany a picture of this.
Beck steals the ball from me but dribbles rather than steps over, and that’s when I know he’s playing along. He’s not going to hand this to me, but he’s going to let me prove my point. Help me, even.
I spin, and he jostles his forearm against my lower back. A textbook stop and go, and he’s behind me. I don’t hesitate, sending the ball flying. It wallops the white netting with a satisfying smack I imagine being the equivalent of a mic drop. I turn to see every single kid has their gaze laser-focused on me.
Walter looks appropriately abashed, but more importantly, Mila is beaming.
But Beck’s expression is what affects me the most. He’s looking at me with the same awe that’s been aimed at him all morning. With some pride too. With too much I’m scared to name. My emotions are raw and all over the place. I’m so tired of having to prove myself and I’m so grateful he knew what I needed from him. We’re so similar, in the most important ways.
“Thank you,” I tell him quietly, then head back toward my group.
My phone won’t stop vibrating on Beck’s bedside table. After the soccer camp ended, we came back to his place. Ended up in his bed.
I finally grab it and answer. “Hello?” I mumble. If this is Hallie calling me to talk to Matthew Jr. again, I’m going to kill her.
“SAYLOR! OH! MY! GOD!” Emma shouts.
“Emma?” I drape an elbow across my eyes. “What is it?”
“You met Adler fucking Beck and didn’t tell me?”
“What?”
“Cress just showed me an article with photos of you at some soccer field with kids. With Adler Beck.”
Damnit. “Yeah,” I admit. “He was at a soccer camp thing I went to.” And is currently lying three feet away. Naked.
“And?! Did you talk to him?” Emma screeches.
“Barely,” I lie.
