Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“You did fantastic today.”
“It was okay.” It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but I still hadn’t wanted to do it.
“It was okay?!” she repeats and shakes her head. “You had everyone cheering. They cheered more for you than the football team.”
"That's because ninety percent of them didn't know it was me inside," I say, and Tins waves my comment off. If anyone should be the mascot it’s her. With all the pep and positivity that comes from her, she would be great at it.
Our food comes, and we devour it. Once we leave, I text Bennett to ask where I’m supposed to go. When he tells me to meet him at the locker room connected to the football field, my stomach drops. I want to see Coach Shay again, but I really don’t want to see the boys’ locker room.
We pull up to the football field, and Bennett is waiting for us right where he said he would be. The locker room is by the stands, and I can see they are already filling up with people.
“We can go in there?” Tins asks.
“They’re already dressed, so it’s good,” Bennett tells her, and we follow him inside.
The whole place is shiny and new. It shouldn't be surprising with how expensive this school is, along with the football obsession. I always assumed a boys’ locker room would be gross, but I was wrong.
The players are together in an open area, standing in a half circle. Their backs are to me as Coach Shay gives them their pregame pep talk. I stop walking and watch him. I don’t bother listening to what he’s saying. Instead I get the feel of him as he hypes them up. The man has a presence that can’t be ignored.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I googled him. Shay Olson was a top player in the NFL and retired last year. It didn’t explain why the hell he’s here at Legend Prep. I know he’s got money because that was one of the top articles when I searched his name. He hit a record for having one of the highest paid contracts in NFL history. So far.
“Now get out there!” he shouts at them, and afterwards I’m shocked when his eyes find mine. As the players start to run out of the locker room, neither of us move.
“Over here, Charlie,” Bennett says.
He snaps me back to reality and away from a man I shouldn't be lusting after. He’s ten years older than me, and I have no business thinking about things that involve him and my naked body.
Bennett is holding back a loose curtain with an open room on the other side. It’s a cubby right next to the row of lockers where I guess I’m supposed to get changed.
“She can use my office,” Coach Shay says across the suddenly quiet locker room. “There isn’t privacy out here.” He sounds pissed as he starts walking to the other side of the locker room. “It’s over here.”
All of us silently follow him, and when he pushes open the door, I step inside.
“Thanks,” I tell him.
“Don’t change out there. You got me?” I narrow my eyes at him, both annoyed and oddly turned on with him bossing me around. “You got me?” he repeats a little firmer this time.
“I got it,” I say because I certainly don’t got him. He stares at me for a long second before shaking his head. After that, he leaves the locker room the same way all the players had.
“That was nice of him.” Bennett smiles and places the beaver suit on Coach Shay's desk.
When he and Tins close the door, I drop my bag onto the chair and change out of my clothes. I put on leggings and a sports bra and then ask Tins to help me zip up the beaver suit. Bennett goes over a few things with me on the way to the field, but once I’m out there it’s not so bad.
I stand with the cheerleaders and jump around, giving out high-fives. I don’t have to put on too much of a show since the game is taking center stage. I’m trying not to think about Coach Shay, but I catch myself staring in his direction more times than I’d like to admit. I swear one time I thought I caught him doing the same to me, but I must have imagined it.
“You think he’s married?” I hear one of the cheerleaders say. I peek over to see it’s Milly, the co-captain of the squad.
“No ring,” another says. “But I don’t think you’ve got a shot, Milly.”
A few laugh, but that doesn’t stop them from talking about him. With each word they speak, I find my anger growing. I have no right to him. He’s not mine, but he’s not theirs either.