Not Yet

“You text your brother and I’ll get our food,” she says and takes off.

“He’s not my brother,” I mumble, but she’s already gone.

Her long dark hair sways as she moves through the crowd of people and I drop down in my seat and fish my phone out of my bag. I start to text Drake since I might as well get it over with. It will be the first thing she asks when she comes back with our food.

“I like your hair down.” I look up to see Eric standing over me.

“Thanks.”

He sits down next to me as I send the text.

Me: Is Liam going to Homecoming?

“So Homecoming,” Eric starts and I begin to panic. He’s not going to ask me, is he? This whole Homecoming thing is starting to take years off my life.

“Why did Liam grab you like that?” I change the subject fast and Eric’s smile drops.

“Because he’s a dick and does whatever Drake tells him. Drake thinks he owns this school but football is almost over.” Eric smirks and leans in closer.

“Don’t you play football too?” I thought everyone on the team was chummy, but now that I think about it I don’t see Eric on the field much. I know he’s on the team but I forget about him. I also wonder why he’s at my table and not over with the BBs where Drake sits.

My phone vibrates in my hand.

Drake: Why do you care if Liam is going?

Can’t he just answer the question? I can’t tell him I’m asking for Lindsey because of girl code and all that crap.

Me: I just want to know.

“Yeah, I play.”

I look Eric over and appraise his short but fast stature. I think he might be about football like I was about swim. I did it because I needed something to put on my college applications. That’s my guess at least for Eric. He’s in a few of my AP classes, so he kind of mixes with both crowds.

“I’m going to Homecoming too.” He reaches out and touches the ends of my hair.

Oh no, he’s going to ask me. I’m a fish out of water because I haven’t been asked out before. I don’t know if it should bother me or not, but if I’d been through this before I might know what to do in this situation.

“Cool,” is all I say, looking back down at my phone and pretend it’s super interesting.

“You have a date yet?” he asks, and I fight my outward cringe.

“Dude, Liam and Drake look pisssssed.” Lindsey drags out the last word as she puts a tray of food on the table. Thank God she’s back and saved me from Eric. “I think they’re fighting.”

I look over to where they’re sitting and follow her line of sight. Liam and Drake look to be in a heated conversation as they stand next to their table. As if Drake feels my eyes on him, his head turns my way, his eyes lock with mine for a moment and then move to Eric.

He goes from pissed to livid as he shoves his phone in his pocket and starts to walk right toward me.

Chapter Eight

Drake

Eric jumps up when he sees me charging over like a bull, but just as I get to the table, I feel a strong hand grab my upper arm and a voice stops me cold.

“One more strike and I’ve got no choice but to bench you. Is that really what you want?” Coach Chris says in a low voice as I feel the blood pounding in my ears.

Eric smirks and grabs his bag, walking away from the table like it’s all cool. I jerk my arm free and glare as Coach gets in my face.

“If you’re riding the bench, who do you think is going in as backup?” His brows pull together in a stern look and I realize what he means.

Eric is my backup and he’s been trying different positions this year since I’ve given him zero playing time as quarterback. Rage heats my neck as I look over Coach’s shoulder to Ali. Her head is bent toward Lindsey and they’re whispering to one another.

“It’s one thing to do it on the field, but you do this in the middle of a crowded lunchroom and my hands are tied, son.”

I glare at him, pissed off because I know he’s right. I nod silently in understanding and he takes a breath.

“You’ve worked too damn hard for this to throw it away on a shit like him. We both know he’s not getting a ride anywhere, so the only thing you’re doing is ruining your chances.” When I don’t answer he gives me a hard look. “You understand me?”

“Yes, Coach.”

He waits a beat and it’s my turn to let out a breath. Once he sees I’m under control, Coach Chris steps back and goes back to his table.