The Halo Effect

17 | sore loser

On Saturday morning, Trip McKenna ruined Scrabble for me. The competitiveness that permanently flowed through my bloodstream prevented me from backing down, but Trip was one triple-word score away from me shoving the board off of my duvet and refusing to play the game ever again.

"It's over, Chandler," Trip said, eyeing me from over the top of his glasses. "You can't win."

"Just give me another second." I bit the inside of my cheek as I evaluated the board between us. My Dad hadn't raised a quitter. 

"Even if I gave you the rest of the day, it still wouldn't make a difference."

When I looked up to glare at Trip, I almost had to squint. The sunlight streaming through the window behind him warmed his brown hair, casting a halo of gold around his head. Even the sun seemed to set him apart, shining a better, brighter light on him than everyone else. I didn't want to look at anything or anyone now that I'd seen him.

Kelsey snorted from where she stood at her desk, organizing her backpack for a trip to the library. "I can't decide if this is cute or dorky."

"This is Chandler deciding whether she wants to kick me out or not," Trip said.

"Hey, I am not a sore loser," I protested lightly.

Now Trip was smiling at me, and it was hard to feel bitter when he did that. "Our last game suggests otherwise."

"Maybe I will kick you out." I shoved his knee and he caught my hand before I could pull it away. His two silver rings gleamed in the light.

"What time is Mac free from her mandatory penance?" Kelsey asked as she yanked on her left Dr. Martin.

I smirked at Kelsey's use of Macallan's preferred title for her weekly detentions. "Probably around 2:00. She had to split right after our ACT practice test ended."

She groaned. "That's brutal."

Trip squeezed my hand. "Your ACT is in April, right?"

I nodded as I started to gently spin the ring on his pointer finger. "Third time's the charm. I breezed through the math section today."

I wasn't exaggerating. I'd answered every question and had time remaining to double-check the problems I starred in my booklet. The minute I received my score tomorrow, I'd inform Dallas Gunther that I didn't need his help. Besides, I would've just been a distraction for him.

"Thank god UVA is happy with my 29," Kelsey said, shrugging on a pink bomber jacket over her Goth Babe sweatshirt. Boston was still emotionally attached to winter in March. "I don't think I could've survived another one."

UVA was a prestigious state university, but it tended to offer some academic leniency to its DI athletes. The same could be said for other DI universities, even those in the Ivy League. But even if UVA had higher expectations, Kelsey wouldn't have a problem exceeding them. She'd been on the high honor roll with me since our first term at Cannondale.

I stopped spinning Trip's ring, met his eyes. "You only took the ACT once."

It wasn't a question.

His lips lifted in a hint of a smirk as he nodded. "My score was good enough the first time around."

"There's no need to be humble," I teased, dropping his hand to build off of a preexisting word.

"Would you prefer unadulterated arrogance? Is that your thing, Chandler?"

"I don't have a thing."

"Uh-huh."

Trip took his next turn in a handful of seconds, and I exhaled a dejected sigh. That Z double-letter score officially ruined my chances of staging a comeback.