Chapter 12 Tyler #2
I blink. I’m probably blushing from the unexpected praise. “I guess college was never really an option in Brownsville. We didn’t get the kinda scouts you guys do here.”
“Well, shit, we’re drowning in scouts!” Kai cries. “They’ll be showing up to games all season. You keep doing your thing and you’re bound to get noticed—right, Cap’n Kirk?”
Will ignores Kai’s theatrics—probably got used to them years ago—and fixes me with a steely gaze. “That’s right. A lot of the guys are counting on that this year. I’ve been talking to a coach at UCLA, and if I play well this season, he said I’m sure to get signed.”
“And he’s definitely good enough,” Gabe pipes in, leg jiggling up and down as he laces his shoes.
I nod hurriedly, resisting the urge to salute. “I’m sure you are.”
“That remains to be seen.” Will takes a step toward me, meticulously adjusting the cuffs of his button-down.
“But I can tell you one thing: I keep my team drama free so we have optimal chances of playing our best, and a team is only as strong as its weakest link. You’ve got talent, Holloway.
Don’t waste it. If there’s anything you need to talk about… you come to me, okay?”
My mouth goes dry. Will’s just giving me the standard new-guy warning, right? Not hinting that I might be trouble?
I meet his eye without flinching. “Drama free sounds perfect to me.”
And just like that, the momentary storm on Will’s face has blown over, and he’s back to smiling sunnily. “Great!” He claps me on the back. “Then have fun!”
Gabe slings an arm around my neck and lifts a single finger. “But not too much fun.”
I roll my eyes. “We’re just friends.”
“I’d love a friend that good,” Kai says under his breath.
I wave them off and exit the locker room, mind whirring a mile a minute. Will isn’t the kind of guy to give empty compliments. And if he’s right, maybe all the mess from this last year happened for a reason.
If I get a scholarship to play in college, that would change everything.
As long as I don’t screw things up here. Keep things drama free and no trouble.
A text from Ryan interrupts the butterflies in my stomach. hey, you want to try that ice cream place on the way home? i’m telling you, you gotta try their mint chip!!!
I’m about to send him a thumbs-up, but then I spot Sabrina’s blond ponytail bent over the desk in the athletics office.
Getting a ride to work with a guy from the team, sorry! Maybe this weekend?
Only a little guilt creeps up my throat. I have a work shift after practice anyway, regardless of who’s driving. We can try that ice-cream place another time. And I don’t need to remind him just how much time I’m spending with Sabrina.
When she looks up to meet my eyes, beaming, I can’t help smiling back. Sabrina has a way of making my worries dissolve.
“Your friend giving you a ride?” Gabe hoots as he passes. I flip him off behind my back, and Will and Kai erupt in cackles. I gotta admit, I’ve missed being teased by a team.
As much as I like them, though, I’m really looking forward to Sabrina rambling a mile a minute.
Today she’s driving me to the Lakeside for an evening shift, where she’ll meet Kara to work on college apps over onion rings. She visibly sags with relief when I tell her Ryan took the news just as hoped—unfazed by our just friends explanation and planning to find a new date.
The intensity of her reaction tells me just how out of character her rash decision was this morning. She must have been pretty pissed at Ryan to risk it.
Or… pretty excited to hang out with me? I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain a smile. No need to get carried away.
A new looseness enters her posture as she briefs me on Gilmore Girls lore while the breeze rips through the open windows of her car, sending the loose tendrils of her ponytail whipping against her cheek.
“You have to run from Dean girls like a serial killer is chasing you,” she says solemnly.
“What a toxic man. Almost makes season one unwatchable.”
I hum in agreement, but I’m distracted by wondering what her hair would feel like against my fingers. Does she ever wear it down? Maybe for special occasions?
To distract myself, I crack open the lid on the protein shake I saved for postpractice, then pause with it halfway to my mouth. Is it rude to drink when she doesn’t have anything? “Um. Do you want some?”
Sabrina’s wide eyes flash my way, flicking between the shake and my mouth. I flush, wondering if she’s imagining our lips touching the bottle’s rim. If she’s disgusted by it—or if it makes her think about our lips touching for real.
“No, thanks,” she says lightly, recovering first. “I hate the taste of protein powder. Too grainy.” Her nose wrinkles in an adorable, bunny rabbit kind of way.
I raise my eyebrows in mock outrage. “How do you know it has protein powder in it?”
She raises her own right back. “Doesn’t it?”
I frown and fall silent, making a mental note to bring her a simple fruit one the next time she drives me home.
“Okay, so you need to understand the difference between being a Logan girl and a Jess girl.” Sabrina returns to the topic at hand, fixing me with such an intense stare that I immediately snap back into the moment, reminding myself to focus.
“Jess girls are suckers for the ‘he hates everyone but her’ trope. I mean, there’s something incredibly appealing about a guy who annotates books for you.
Who loves the same movies and music you do, who you can have deep conversations with.
Who is so jealous of your ex that he smashes the car he built you. ”
She pauses, as if waiting for me to contribute. I push away thoughts of figuring out how to annotate and venture, “So… we’re Jess girls?”
“WRONG.” She slaps the dashboard so violently, I jump in my seat.
“Did you hear that bit about smashing the car? The problem with the Jess girls is they overlook toxicity for the sake of a romanticized ideal of a man! Jess never made any effort to get along with Rory’s friends and family, he left town without even telling her, and he’s not very good at taking no for an answer!
The writing was on the wall.” She raises an emphatic finger in the air.
“Logan, despite the way his privilege makes him act like an asshole sometimes, genuinely loves Rory and does his best to support her! He grows! He loves her family! They’re both dumb college kids—who cares about a little yacht stealing? !”
Another pause. I’m not quite following the yacht thing, but I know my line. “Oh, we’re so Logan girls,” I say.
Sabrina grins, wide and unfiltered. “We so are.”
I grin back. If you’d told me a year ago the highlight of my day would be catching rides from this tiny blondie and learning all the ins and outs of 2000s TV shows, I would’ve told you that you’d lost your mind.
But right now, it feels like ending up in Hamilton Lakes was the best possible thing that could happen to me.
Then the car jolts forward jerkily, as if threatening to stop. The smile slides right off Sabrina’s face, and she catches my eye with alarm. “Is that—”
And then the car carries through on its threat, sputtering to a stop in the middle of the road. “Pull over,” I order.
Sabrina obeys without question, jerking the wheel to the right so momentum carries us to the shoulder.
If I’d been attracted to her hair blowing in the breeze before, the way she keeps her head in a crisis is even better.
Her knuckles are white on the wheel, but she steers us past all obstacles, flicks on her hazard lights, and waves other drivers around us.
When we finally stop moving, she lets out a slow breath, like she was holding it right up until this moment.
“Good work,” I say, reaching out to touch her thigh reassuringly. She startles, and I withdraw immediately, flushing. “Sorry. I’m just gonna… check it out.”
I’m relieved to slide out of the passenger seat and bury my flaming face under the hood.
I do my best to distract myself with diagnosing the car—probably an alternator on the blink, so I fiddle with the battery connection to confirm—because I can’t go around touching that girl’s thigh.
She’s been nice, but that doesn’t mean she wants anything else!
Don’t take advantage of a near-death experience!
I grit my teeth and circle around to the driver’s seat, where Sabrina’s waiting and watching my every move. I grimace, meeting her eyes apologetically. “I hate to break it to you, Sabrina, but I’m not sure our rituals are gonna do the trick this time. I think she needs a jump.”