dude. When they reach us, Jason runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back up.
It’s wet with sweat, and messy, in a way that makes him look a little more rugged than normal.
He’s also breathing heavy, and there’s this energized look in his eyes.
I can’t stop looking at him.
“What are you doing here?” asks Naomi. “You’re not supposed to leave the dugout.”
“I know,” says Wallace. “But I had to see my girl.”
Wallace kisses Bri on the lips, which makes Naomi cringe, then make a sign of the cross. Then she turns to the remaining two.
“What’s your excuse?” she asks. “You could get detention for this, you know?”
They both shrug, but Jason looks at me. The other dude raises a hand at Naomi, and I swear she blushes so hard I can feel the heat radiating from her face. It’s all sorts of adorable. I kind of want to push the two of them together and be like, “Now kiss.”
Maybe I’m just in a romantic mood at the moment. Who knows?
“Hey, man,” says Wallace, offering his hand. “I’m Wallace.”
“Matt,” I say as we shake.
“He’s Jason’s friend,” says Bri. “The new one.”
She gives him a very pointed look. Wallace glances at Jason, his mouth hanging open slightly. I wonder if he’s thinking that we’re together.
I don’t hate that thought.
Oh wow.
That’s terrifying. I can’t date Jason, I know that. But still, now I’m picturing it. Us, in sweats, cuddling as we watch TV and eat junk food. Showering together. Kissing, like, all the time. Him calling me his boyfriend when we meet someone new.
The truth is, I love all of it.
“I’m Scott, by the way,” says the third dude.
“Hi. Matt, obviously.”
I shake his hand and start blushing. It dawns on me that I love feeling like one of the group. I smile and notice Jason is looking at me in, like, the softest way. I’m blushing, and he doesn’t seem to care.
“Hey,” he says, tilting his head up. “Having fun?”
“Yeah! Like, so much! Dude, you’re amazing at this.”
“Shucks. I’m glad you think so. I feel like I’ve been playing better than normal today. I think it might be because of you.”
He looks at me, then glances away, hiding his expression.
“Guys, we better go before Coach notices,” says Scott. “And thanks for coming, Naomi. Um. I’m glad you could make it, I know you’re really busy and stuff.”
Seriously.
They’re both such awkward cinnamon rolls.
I already ship them so hard.
“Sure thing!” says Naomi. “I love watching people prove their masculinity via hitting tiny balls.”
“Me too!” says Bri.
“You guys are the worst,” says Scott with a smile. “Even you, new guy.”
With that, the three turn and jog down the steps.
Jason turns back and waves, just at me.
My stomach plummets.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It’s time.
I need to talk to Dad.
I’ve been trying to muster up the courage ever since I got home from the game. I need to tell him what Cassidy told me. Now that the moment is here I’m reconsidering. I’ve always been low-key afraid of him, and avoid him as much as possible, but lately it’s gotten a lot worse.
I guess I have more to lose now.
Plus, this is the first time I’ve ever gone brazenly against his wishes. I’ve always done what he wanted, with a sort of reserved acknowledgment that it’s just the way things need to be.
I did “forget” my mask that one time.
But that’s nothing compared to being friends with a Donovan.
I’ve seen him mad before, but if he found out, I’m sure it’d be next-level.
I’m lying on my bed, stalking Jason’s social media on my phone. His Facebook was easy to find, once I had his Instagram. He uses Jason Todd as a name there, too. His likes include Attack on Titan, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and She-Ra. I love that they’re there, I’m obsessed with all three.
Obviously.
I’m not even surprised when we like the same thing anymore.
I load his Instagram for what feels like the millionth time and scroll down. He’s posted a bunch of cute selfies of him just going about his life, mixed in with staged-looking ones of him hanging out with his friends, often at the beach, or at this cute coffee shop he seems to go to a lot. It has a wall of dog photos. My favorite of his photos is one of him at Harry Potter world, freaking out over Butterbeer. Impossibly cute.
Still, it feels very staged to me. I prefer Instagram to feel a little more real.
But, hey, what do I know? He gets