23. Blaine
Chapter twenty-three
Blaine
“ H ey, Mitch,” Ryder utters quietly next to me. “Think you’ll make alternate captain?”
My shoulders rise in a silent answer.
“Before I met you,” Ryder’s voice grows louder, “I heard rumors.”
Ryder gulps down half a water bottle before continuing. “Rumors that you were rowdy, ruthless,” he pauses, taking another sip, “had a bad reputation.”
My eyes narrow and meet his. ”What are you getting at, Ryder?”
“Nothing, dude, just haven’t seen any of that.” Ryder slaps me on the bare back playfully. “I think you’ve got a good shot at making alternate captain is all.”
“Really?” My voice nearly cracks as I struggle to conceal the tremor in my words, my heart pounding wildly.
“Yeah, Mitch,” Ryder confirms loudly. “Give yourself more credit. You’re a real playmaker out there.”
With a hint of a smile, I ask, “Who do you think the other will be? You or Keith?”
Ryder chuckles, putting a hand to his heart jokingly. “You flatter me, Mitch.”
Guess that’s a no.
“Let's hit the town tonight," Ryder pauses, pulling his shirt over his head, “blow off some steam, meet some girls. Unless . . .”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you’re still with that girl from the beach.” Ryder waggles his eyebrows suggestively .
Am I still faking being with Libby? Lord knows I want to be fake dating her to keep myself from making stupid decisions and tarnishing my new reputation I’m trying to build. But every time I’ve seen her lately, she’s ignored me.
“I've got plans with her tonight actually.” I lie through my teeth. “But Silas will go out with you, won’t you, Silas?”
Turning away from Silas and Ryder chatting about their new plans for tonight, I glance down at my phone and text Libby.
Me: Busy tonight?
“By the way,” Silas whispers to me. “I voted for you.” A loud smack echoes in the locker room from the ass slap Silas just delivered in congratulations to me. That better not leave a fucking mark.
After taking a long shower, I check my phone. No reply. I texted her ten minutes ago. Guess she doesn’t think we are fake dating or even friends. My fingers fly furiously across my phone.
Me: We need to talk about this fake dating thing.
Me: You’re either in or out.
Me: It’s confusing, I don’t know how to act when people ask me. And you started this shit lying to everyone.
Libby: Okay. We’ll talk soon.
Libby: But not tonight.
At least my maybe fake girlfriend finally fucking responded.