The Nerd and the Jock (1st bk of Nerd Series)

Chapter 9- Blake

"So, what are you doing tonight and this weekend?" I asked after we finished some more of the project. I was packing my bag up and watching as she moved around, collecting her stuff.

"Work, probably," she replied. She stuffed some stuff into her bag before looking at me, raising an eyebrow. "You?"

"Football," I replied. I gestured to my uniform, and she rolled her eyes. I glanced around and made sure that we were alone before looking at her. I had been wondering this for a while, and I didn't know if she would tell me or not. "Do you still have your dad's jersey?" I asked in a lower voice.

She nodded her head, a look of sadness flashing through her eyes. "Uh, ya," she said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and looked down. "I have his college jersey, too."

"Why doesn't he have an NFL one? I thought he wanted to do that."

"Because he found his calling," she replied with a soft smile. She cleared her throat again and looked down. "I was from a one night stand between my parents. They had been a couple for high school but "drifted" apart after their Senior year."

"They were the homecoming queen and king, weren't they?" I asked, and she nodded.

"They actually broke up that night. Uncle Dalton and Aunt Georgie had gotten them back together at a party. And poof, nine months later, I appeared."

"Your parents sound to have had the perfect marriage," I said, feeling rather jealous. I knew the reason as to why my parents never stayed in the house with each other, and I knew that it was because they did not want to see each other. They were having affairs with other people, and they didn't want the other to know.

"Oh, they had their fights," Bailey said, a sad smile flickering on her face. She looked at her bag and fiddled with the zippers. She licked her lips and sighed. "I remember one night when my dad came home late from work, they had a really bad argument. I had been reading way past my bedtime, a-"

"Of course you were."

Bailey glared at me for interrupting her and cleared her throat. "Anyways, I snuck out of my bedroom and down the steps to the kitchen. My mother looked scary when she yelled at him and told him to grab his stuff and leave. Dad grabbed her and took her outside with Mom cussing up a storm."

"What happened when they came back in?"

"They were laughing and having a good time," she said. She closed her eyes and sighed. "My dad caught sight of me watching them and chased me into my bedroom, followed by my mother. He told me that he loved me and that he was sorry for working so late."

"Did he start coming home early?"

She nodded and cleared her throat. "The only time that he didn't come home on time was when he was gunned down," she said, her voice cracking. She took a deep, shuddering breath and shook her head. "Mom was supposed to pick me up from school, but she never did."

"How old were you when your parents were killed?" I asked. I was surprised to see her with tears in her eyes because I had never seen her cry.

"I was almost eleven," she replied. She cleared her throat and rubbed her eyes. "Ummm... you need to get going. Uncle Dalton hates it when you are late." She moved a hand through her hair and shook her head. "I have to go. I will see you tonight." And with that, she left me confused.

"What does she mean by that?" I asked, shaking my head. I bit back a huff and started to head to the gym. I was curious more about her past, but I knew better than to push. I was sure that she would tell me more about it in time...

I hope...

***

"Hey, Handsome, are you going to be getting us any touchdowns?" a female asked while I was following my team onto the field.

I turned towards the stands to see Bailey staring at me, smirking a bit. "What are you doing here?" I asked, walking over to her. "You've never been to any football games before."

"Peterson! Get your ass over here," the Coach said, noticing that I had stopped. He scowled at Bailey before raising an eyebrow and then nod. He had a silent conversation with her, I was sure, and I couldn't help but wonder as to what they were talking about.

"In a minute, Coach," I said, turning my attention to her. "Well?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It was the only way Ryan would go to work with me and not be a brat," Bailey replied, looking down at me from where she had been looking at her "uncle." She stuffed her hands on her sweatshirt, and I couldn't help but notice how old it looked and was sure that it had belonged to either her father or mother. "He hates going to the studio." She shrugged her shoulder, acting indifferent.

"Studio?" I asked, furrowing my brows in confusion. "What studio?"

Bailey smirked and shook her head. "You are going to have to find that out yourself," she replied, and I scowled. She nodded towards the place where Coach Martin was waiting for me. "You might want to go. We both know how much of an asshole he can be if you keep him waiting."

I frowned but nodded. "Are you going to be staying the whole game?" I asked, starting to walk that way.

"I'll try. It'll be hard with two little ones, but I'll see if they can last that long. It's not normal for them to be way up past their bedtime."

"What about the party afterward?"

"Not going. He's going to be coming to my apartment anyway, and I am a "nerd." I am not "welcomed" about these parties." She was talking about Trevor; I was sure of it. She didn't seem too upset to be missing the party, and I knew she would be pissed if I were pissed.

"Great, then my little sister and I will be coming too. I'll see you after the game." I left smirking, ignoring the fuming brown-haired female that was cussing up a storm.

She was not as innocent as she let people believe, not with a mouth like that.