Letterman Jacket

13 / fifty-two days before

I didn't skip out on biology again, and it was a miracle—perhaps God's gift—that Nico Romero had somewhat become civilized in terms of his attitude towards me.

When the hands of the clock pointed to two o'clock, I had to drag my feet across the floor on the way to the locker room in the gymnasium for PhysEd. My hatred for that particular subject went beyond words.

Paula, who was already dressed with her hair tied up into a single ponytail, came up behind me to occupy the locker next to mine. "You still owe me that calculus session, you know."

I couldn't help the smile that formed on my face as I dumped my school bag inside, already dreading the fact that I had to change into the skimpy uniform. "Give me the when and the where, then bring your brain and something for it to do."

The cheerleader tipped her head back and laughed. "You're something else, Thea Simmons. No wonder why Faust is so smitten with you."

My hands froze, and I had to keep myself from changing expressions as I let out a short scoff. "Faust Carter? Smitten? What are you—"

"Oh, don't bother denying it," she said, rolling her eyes.

I sighed, holding the clothes in my hands as I closed the locker, facing Paula. "Please don't tell anyone. And how did you know? Are we that obvious?"

"What kind of friend do you take me for, Thea? Of course I won't tell. And no, not really, I'm just really observant that way." Her shoulders lifted as her lips quirked up. "Thea, Faust is struggling to keep his eyes off you during lunch. The scene in the cafeteria a few days ago didn't help as well."

I bit my lip, embarrassed, as the heat rose up to my cheeks.

When Paula and I finally stepped out of the locker room in the annoyingly short uniform with my fingers playing with the hem of the bottoms, the blare of Coach Greenberg's whistle, the squeak of Nike shoes and the basketballs bouncing on the cemented floor met my ears. Confused, I asked Paula, "What's the basketball team doing here?"

My brother saw me entering and lifted a hand to wave with a small smile. I gave him a brief one back before my eyes began searching for Faust, but I couldn't spot number eleven anywhere. "Maybe their training had to be pushed back for an hour," answered Paula, crossing her arms. "They've been training all week, and I heard their next game was this Friday."

I pursed my lips as we made our way to the bleachers, where the rest of our classmates sat, greedily drinking in the sight. Before I could climb up the stairs, Paula nudged me with her elbow. "Is that Faust? What's he doing behind the bleachers? Is he waiting for you?"

I didn't know, but I was going to find out. "Save a seat for me."

I didn't miss the wink she passed my way before she headed up.

In the dim light, I could clearly see the build of a man in his jersey with one hand propped against the wall, positioned as if he was debating whether or not it was a good idea to come inside. Subtly ducking behind the bleachers, I grabbed his arm and pulled him with me.

Faust Carter was a walking sin in his basketball uniform.

Of course, I'd already known that during his first game when I caught up with him to ask questions. My eyes couldn't miss the fact that he was dripping with sweat as the cloth of his jersey stuck to his tanned skin. No woman in the right mind wouldn't have noticed.

But it was different then, because I now had the right to admit that he was definitely a sight for sore eyes.

Apart from sly glances across our lunch tables in the cafeteria, daily texts and nightly calls, I hadn't had the chance to be alone with him for more than a few minutes after our encounter in the empty classroom—courtesy of our conflicting schedules, basketball training, and Theo's wary watch on my every move.