Out of My League - Sarah Sutton Page 0,26

And it was an excuse to get me out of the house. A win-win scenario, resting in the palms of Walsh’s hands.

“Would my boyfriend like that?” I prodded with heavy sarcasm, peering at him underneath my lashes.

Walsh didn’t look at me when I spoke, my words hanging between us, the question left unanswered and weighing in the wind. Boyfriend. Weird.

He took his time smearing every inch of brown off his shoe, making sure it coated the grass before slipping the shoe back on.

When Walsh looked up, he looked at me with a challenge in his eye. “Tina and I will race you to the end of the park.”

“Poor Tina doesn’t know that she’s saddled with a slow runner. I’ve heard your run on the field is a mom-jog at best.”

This time, both of Walsh’s golden eyebrows rose. “A mom-jog?”

“Plus those awful shoes have you at a disadvantage. You’ll be slipping on the grass the entire time.”

Amusement glittered across his gaze, though he tried to hide it. “Sheesh, woman, you’re attacking me left and right.”

One of my shoulders lifted as I stretched my legs. “I talk a big game, what can I say?” I shortened Dina’s leash, gripping the bundle tightly in my hand. “You backing down?”

“I guess you don’t know me very well,” Walsh replied simply, and then took off running. Tina, surprised by the sudden movement, had no choice but to chase after him, barking loudly.

Dina started toward them first, leaving me kicking up grass as I lunged forward. “Whoa, wait! You’re such a cheater!”

Even with his back turned to me, I could see Walsh tip his head back into the sunlight, his musical laugh echoing throughout the park. “Who’s got the mom-jog now, Sophie?”

Chapter Eight

I had time to kill before meeting Walsh again to go to Ryan’s party. Too much time. I couldn’t help but overthink the prospect of tonight, the looming doom hanging over my shoulder.

Ugh, looming doom? What was I talking about? It was just a high school party. Sure, my last one had sucked bad.

Real bad.

I needed to distract myself, so I buried my nose in research for my article. I borrowed Mom’s personal laptop that she kept in the living room, powering up a search browser.

Being in the journalism class gave me all kinds of access to the school’s information. By state law, Bayview was required to post its annual budget sheet for the public to see, and using my old credentials from class, I logged onto the server.

One of the major points in my article was focused on unfair funding, so I crossed my fingers that something interesting would pop up.

The first option read “Bayview High School Treasurer’s Reporting” and I clicked on it with lightning speed. A page with a whole lot of numbers loaded up, with two columns of revenues and expenses. Most of the rows were common things, such as Instructional Costs, Operation and Maintenance, Taxes.

None of the numbers seemed out of the ordinary. Not that I knew what those numbers should look like, granted, but everything at least resembled the other sections in the amount.

However, when I looked at the Athletics row, that number nearly doubled any other column. At the bottom of the page, I saw that there was a “Where the Money Comes From” link.

“Honey?” Mom asked sleepily, moving from the hallway. “What time is it?”

“Not sure.” I didn’t glance at the clock on the computer. She must’ve been napping—she had come back from the studio early this afternoon nauseous. I guess I hadn’t realized she’d been asleep this entire time.

A bar chart pulled up on the page, with several different colors creating it, showing the athletic department’s budget from the past three years. The first year was lower than the last two, and the last two had a significant amount of blue to the bar. Much more than any other color. When I looked for the key, I read that the blue indicated Fund Modification. What did that mean?

“I’m not feeling too great,” Mom went on, and I glanced up to find her pressing a hand against her stomach. “Can you get me a glass of water, Sophia? I’m going to go lay back down.”

“Uh, yeah, just give me a second.”

I had no idea what Fund Modification was, but it sounded sketchy. I wasn’t an expert in numbers or anything, but it wasn’t hard to use deductive reasoning. Changing the amounts in the funds. Transferring money to different spots. Could they do that? Were they allowed