A shy high school senior jock and a closed-off girl battling an immune disorder fake a relationship to win a social media contest.
Being shy isn't easy, especially when you're the new kid at school. Scotts Valley's football program is subpar compare...
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I needed the whole weekend to calm down.
Six touchdowns and 574 yards in the season's first game should have made me happy. Dad's confrontation, getting benched, and watching Paige get humiliated put me in a piss-poor mood. Working a job she didn't want to do showed real family support, not Dad's version of tough love.
I'd sat out games before, but only when nursing an injury or at the end of a season to rest for the playoffs and give other guys game time and experience. Watching the Falcons almost give away game one against a weak opponent was one of my top three embarrassing moments from that night. Getting benched held the most embarrassing slot, followed by Mom yelling, "Put Brody back in!" when Caden threw an interception with two minutes left and the subsequent laughs.
After the game, I blew off my teammates, went home, and crashed. Mom crept into my room, verbal guns blazing in with a 'Why didn't you tell me you're a punt returner?' lecture, covered me with a blanket, and promised we'd discuss her concerns.
'Discuss' meant grounding. Saturday, I was confined to my room and punished to unpack. The woman kept every drawing I'd scribbled, every trophy, pee wee shirt, and stinky, cracked cleats. What was I supposed to do with them? It was a dumpster trip, except she caught me in the hallway to 'rescue' her treasured memories.
From the moment I stepped out of my truck Monday morning, I grabbed the school's attention. Unknown kids offered fist bumps, high-fives, shoulder slaps, and game recaps. One asked for my autograph on his starter cap.
Notes crammed in my locker fell every time I opened it. I never saw anyone stuff them into the air vents. Most were compliments on the game, which was nice, but I wadded up the ones confessing feelings for me. They didn't know anything new about me other than how fucking good I was on the field. The solitude was my fault, but I hadn't changed socially.
The focused attention made my skin crawl. Eyes tracked my movements, in and between classes, even in the bathroom. I wanted to ask Paige about getting picked on, but she was in another withdrawal mood. She smiled but ducked her head down.
Thankfully, her friends didn't care about the game. Or, they knew I'd been approached all morning and didn't bring it up. I appreciated the break and lunch providing a topic Paige couldn't avoid.
Her bright eyes looked at me curiously. "What did you do this weekend, Brody?"
"Sleeping, unpacking, and surfing." Our belongings unboxed made the condo more comfortable, that's for sure. The good vibes dissolved when she cooked me egg soup for breakfast on Sunday morning. I worked myself to fatigue with Mason on Sunday and hit the waves again. This time, I wised up and went north to Pleasure Point. The breaks were good, and the area was sparse because the reports blasted The Hook and drew the locals. My trips eased the tension knotting my shoulders, and only fatigue dragged me away from the waves.
"Surfing?" My answer lit up Paige's eyes, turning their turquoise brighter. Her hair was in two buns on the top of her head, and a few pink strands tucked behind her ears. The sun glowed on her cheeks, and the highlights in her eyes reminded me of the sun sparkling on the waves. "You surf, Brody?"
