Out of My League - Sarah Sutton Page 0,2

entire summer had already been mapped out. Write a killer article—because I would’ve, even if my ideas were slow coming—get accepted for the internship, and start working there after school next fall.

That article would’ve gotten the attention of my parents, who had long since turned a blind eye.

All planned out. All achievable. Until now.

And for what? Because someone wanted to buy the baseball team new bleachers? What, the ones they bought a decade ago weren’t good enough anymore?

There were callouses on my fingers from all the jam-packed days and late, late nights of just sitting and writing, pen magnetized to my hand. I’d been dreaming of my chance for years, and now…it was over.

“End of the year party after the baseball game tonight!” someone shouted over my shoulder, startling me from my thoughts so badly that I dropped my pencil case. It fell to the ground with a thud, and apparently hadn’t been closed all the way, because pencils and erasers scattered everywhere. Annoyance welled within me as I bent down, scrambling for my supplies. “Bring your books and homework to burn!”

Burning homework? Sacrilegious.

I shook my head as I tucked a pastel eraser inside, stretching for a pen just out of reach.

Just before I grabbed it, another hand snatched it up. “Here’s this one.”

The blue ink pen was angled so the engraving was faced out. Sophia. “Thanks,” I muttered, yanking it back.

Feet stamped around me, threatening to trample my crouched figure. Before someone had a chance to stomp me into a pancake, I quickly climbed to my feet, fumbling for my pencil case’s zipper. When I lifted my eyes, I came face to face with the person who’d helped me.

It wasn’t so much the fact that baseball was getting my funding that made me so mad. It was that the stupid sport represented stupid people like him.

Walsh Hunter.

Every school had that one guy who everyone loved, right? Incredibly charming, good-looking, people fawning over him like he’s God’s gift to humanity? At Bayview High, that guy was Walsh Hunter. Tall, sandy blond hair, sharp jawline, and gemstone blue-green eyes.

Oh, and did I mention he was captain of the money-stealing baseball team? With his purple and gold baseball jersey on, it was obvious. Everything about him was just so perfect, perfect, perfect.

Ugh.

Bayview was a pretty big school, but not big enough that our paths never crossed. I saw him in the halls from time to time, or when he came up to talk to my boyfriend, who hated him as much as I did. The only time Walsh ever noticed my existence, though, was during math class sophomore year, when he tried to cheat off my test.

Upstanding citizen, that guy.

“Don’t mention it,” Walsh responded, looking at me—really looking at me. “You coming to the party tonight?”

Was it bad that my first thought was is he talking to me? Probably. I didn’t even know what to say.

Walsh, though, with his glittering eyes, didn’t give me much of a chance. “You should come. I think you’d have a lot of fun.” After recruiting his potential partygoer, Walsh patted me on the shoulder, but his eyes latched onto something behind me. “See you tonight. Hey, Zach! Wait up a sec!”

He edged around me and back into the thick of the crowded hallway, people parting for him like he was royalty.

With an annoyed glare, I swatted at the fabric on my shoulder, as if to knock off his touch. I couldn’t blame him for being so tragically oblivious. When someone was placed on a pedestal, it tended to morph one’s thinking.

Or so I assumed. No one placed me on any pedestals.

“Sophia!” a new voice called through the abyss of students, all who were trying to filter from the halls as fast as possible. A small hand stuck above the heads, waving around like a buoy in the middle of the ocean. “Sophia, hang on!”

There were two things that came to my mind when I thought of Edith Bradley. One—my best friend since childhood, my ride-or-die wing-woman.

And the second thing I thought of—short. She liked to say she was five-foot-two, but I seriously doubted it.

Edith elbowed her way out from behind a pair of students talking, heaving a loud sigh at them. “Sheesh, why is no one moving? Hello, let’s go!”

Even though my spirits were low, her good mood felt infectious. “So rude,” I agreed.

“Totally. I’m glad I caught you.” She looped her arm through mine, peering up at me. “I need a favor.”

“I don’t like doing