Chapter 5
“We’ve got to beat these assholes,” I mutter.
“Yes! Love the enthusiasm,” Nova cheers in our small huddle. “But how?”
“I used to play softball,” Willa says. “I can throw.”
“I’m quick,” I add. “I ran track.”
“I’m not sporty in the slightest.”
We stare at her.
“What?” Nova shrugs. “My brother’s a world champion. I knew I’d never beat him, so I had to do my own thing.” She snaps her fingers. “But I can scheme. Just give me a second to work my magic.”
The three of us look over at the huddle currently going on at the other end of the field.
It’s Freshman Face-Off, an all-day interhouse competition.
We spent the past three hours playing all sorts of classic games, like potato sack races, kickball, egg tossing, all leading to this—a winner-takes-all round of dodgeball between the final two dorms. House Willow and House Red Oak.
We mostly hung back for the first half of the game, letting the overly eager boys in our dorm get picked off one by one, but now it’s up to us.
The last three girls standing. I’m pretty sure everyone thinks we’re totally screwed.
I sort of think it a little bit too as I study our competition.
Nox is a freaking Olympian. Logan is a hockey player.
And the last guy on their team is gigantic.
Just…huge. Tall and muscular with long golden hair tied up in a knot.
I haven’t met him yet, though I heard someone affectionately refer to him as Thor, which pretty much tells me all I need to know. He’s a tank. And we’re…not.
“I’ve got it!” Nova exclaims, drawing me back. “Here’s the plan.”
I meet Willa’s eyes across the huddle as Nova speaks. They twinkle. I feel the spark behind my gaze as well, a devious little shimmer that whispers, This just might work.
“Underdogs on three,” Nova finishes.
We stack our hands.
“One. Two. Three…”
“Underdogs!”
We break. The boys are already ready. They watch our every move from across the field as we take our positions. The referee places two balls on the center line. He blows the whistle.
I’m there in a flash. I wasn’t lying—I am fast. And I’m closer to the ground. I can’t help the cocky snicker that leaks through my lips as I swipe the ball out from underneath Nox’s hands. He might be a champion in the water, but right now, we’re on land.
He glares at me, nostrils flaring.
I meet his gaze with a smirk.
“What are you gonna do?” he calls out in challenge, clearly ready to catch me out as soon as I throw the ball.
So I don’t.
I roll it between my fingers and coyly reply, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Logan snatches the other ball, just as we suspected he would. And even though I’ve only been witness to one interaction between him and Nova, one was enough to know that between the three of us, there’s no way he’ll be targeting anyone else.
“I’ll give you five seconds to run, Nova,” he taunts across the field. “Five. Four.”
Nova steps closer instead.
His eyes flash. “Three.”
She grips the bottom of her shirt.
He swallows, unable to keep from dropping his eyes. “Two.”
She inches the hem higher.
He leans closer. “One.”
The moment he pulls his arm back, she lifts her shirt, flashing him a look at her white lace bra. His eyes just about bug out of his head.
“Logan!” Nox shouts, fully aware of what we’re up to, but it’s too late.
My ball sails into Logan’s arm before he has time to recover.
“Out!” the ref calls.
“Are you kidding me?” Nox snaps.
Logan shakes his head as if coming out of a trance. “I have no idea what just happened.”
“You got played.”
“And I hope you enjoyed it.” Nova offers Logan a flirty wave as he passes by her on his way off the field. “Because you’re never going to see it again.”
He snorts dismissively, but the gaze he levels on her is anything but.
I don’t have too much time to wonder, though.
Phase two quickly rolls into action as the ball I bounced off of Logan’s arm barrels toward the midline.
Thor and Willa both make a go for it. Just before he scoops it up, she falls flat on her face with a cry.
He turns immediately toward her, game forgotten.
“Shit! Are you okay?” His deep voice is full of concern as he drops to a knee next to our friend. I try to stifle my smirk. Nova was right. She said he’d been missing us on purpose the whole game, the big softie.
Willa clutches her ankle with a hiss. “Ow. Ow. Ow.”
“Do you want me to help you up?” he offers, holding out his hand.
“No, I’ve got it.” She shakes her head and rolls over onto her hands and knees. The dodgeball finally crosses into our half of the field. Willa meets my gaze with a sly smile as she lunges.
“It’s a trap!” Nox yells.
He’s too late.
Willa rolls over and throws the ball in a spin maneuver worthy of an instant replay. Thor never sees it coming. He stares at the spot it hits his knee in disbelief as his jaw drops open.
“Out!” the ref calls.
He laughs under his breath before walking to the sideline.
“Sorry!” Willa calls with a wince. She rubs at her foot. “If it’s any consolation, I think I really did twist my ankle.” She looks up at the ref. “Can I take myself out of the game?”
He shrugs. “You step off the field, you’re out.”
She nods and pushes herself awkwardly to her feet before starting a one-legged hop toward the sideline.
“I’ll help!” Nova offers cheerfully, skipping her way over the grass. As they link up, I turn my attention back to Nox.
Time for phase three.
My brother has never lost to me in any sort of athletic competition in his life, Nova said back in the huddle. He’ll forget I even exist. Just keep his focus on you, and I promise, he’ll never see me coming.
Keep his focus on me.
I swallow against the sudden dryness in my throat. That idea sounded a lot better before the full weight of his pissed-off green eyes landed on me. Inside, I writhe. But I keep my expression cool. “Guess it’s just you and me.”
“Guess so,” he answers, mirroring my casual tone.
I drop my gaze to the ball resting between his fingers. “If you’re waiting for me to flash you, we’re going to be here for a very long time.”
A flame ignites behind his eyes. A challenge. “I’m not that easy to beat.”
“No?”
“I don’t lose.”
Cocky motherfucker. The annoying thing is I believe him. But there’s a first time for everything. I hold out my arms. “Then take your best shot.”
He narrows his eyes, as if trying to decode the bravado behind my words.
“If you never lose,” I taunt, “what are you waiting for?”
“Nothing.” He shrugs, then tosses the ball up and down twice before offering me a sharp look. “Any last words?”
I know exactly what he wants to hear, and there’s no way in hell I’m giving him the satisfaction.
“Nope,” I say, letting the p pop off my lips.
“I heard you spoke to Logan.”
“And?”
“I thought there might be something you wanted to say to me.”
“Hmm.” I tap my lips a few times with my pointer finger, pretending to think.
Am I milking the whole bratty thing? Yes.
Does a small part of me still think I should probably apologize the way he clearly expects?
Also yes. But then that phrase rolls back out of hiding—high maintenance—and I remember he deserves it. “Nothing comes to mind.”
He scoffs, then shakes his head. “You know, I was going to take it easy on you. But now I really think I’m going to enjoy this.”
I smile sweetly. “Not as much as I am.”
He frowns. But with his eyes still glued on me, he doesn’t see the ball until it smacks him in the cheek.
The ref blows his whistle. “Game!”
Cheers erupt from the sideline.
Nox whips his head around in shock. “Nova took herself out of the game.”
“No I didn’t!”
“No she didn’t,” the ref confirms.
“But—” Nox snaps back toward me in accusation. “You.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, not even trying to smother the smug grin bursting free on my lips. “Was I distracting you?”
His brows furrow. Before I have time to really bask in the stupefied expression passing over his face, hands latch around my waist and I’m hoisted onto someone’s shoulders.
Nova and Willa are already up here. We grin at each other as Willow, Willow, Willow chants ring through the air.
I’m pretty sure all we won was some ice cream, but it feels more significant than that.
As the three of us hold hands and the rest of our dorm cheers and the sun beats down with an almost ethereal glow, I get the sense that for the first time in a long time, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. That I belong.
Maybe I can be a new version of myself here.
Maybe this is where my story really begins.
Free sundaes somehow turn into lots of shots and the entire dorm drunkenly singing “We Are the Champions” as we head to party row.
Swiftmore doesn’t have Greek life, but some of the sports teams and clubs have houses a little ways off campus, and they’re basically like frats.
We catch sight of Logan at the hockey house, and Nova does an about-face, saying she just can’t deal with him right now.
So we end up at the baseball house instead.
They have a dance floor too, and that’s all we really want.
The three of us loop arms as we make our way down to the crowded basement and box out a little space for ourselves.
The music is so loud we can barely speak, so we don’t.
We throw our arms in the air and give in.
By the time we make it home, I’m exhausted—and emboldened.
An infectious energy rattles my bones, whispering that this is a new me with zero fucks to give, promising I won’t let anyone make me cower.
After I tuck Nova into her bed and place some water on her nightstand, I hop onto my own mattress with an almost giddy grin. In one strong tug, I yank up my blinds.
His room is dark.
I ignore the disappointed little pinch of my heart and lift my gaze higher, up over the edge of the building, to the blanket of stars painted across the sky.
This isn’t about seeing him—it’s about not hiding from him. That’s what the old me would have done. But the me I’m determined to be is brave. And if she wants to go to bed at night with a cool breeze and view of the stars, then she damn well will.
I inch open my window. The papers on my desk ruffle. I close my eyes and breathe in that crisp mountain air.
Much better.
A tickle on my cheek draws me back to his room. I can’t make anything out through the glass. No shadows. No movement. No color. It’s a black box revealing nothing, but still, I can’t shake the sense of eyes on me.
I’m imagining it. I must be. Nova said he doesn’t drink or party much because of his strict training schedule. He sleeps eight to ten hours every night, like clockwork.
And yet, that tingle works its way down my throat, over my sternum, and deep into my belly. It lingers there, keeping me awake long after my head hits the pillow.