Straight To You

forty

"I heard Friday's game ruined his reputation."

I'm studying in the library during free period when I hear the two girls perched at the table before me whispering. I don't recognize either of them, so it's safe for me to assume both are underclassmen. They don't seem to notice me as they just barely remember to keep their voices down, lost in conversation. The second the dark-haired girl turns to face her blonde friend, I know immediately that she's talking about Jack. Which is just my luck. I can't seem to escape him no matter where I go.

"It definitely brought him down with scouts," the blonde whispers in agreement with her friend. "I mean, it's the playoffs, which is kind of a big deal. A lot of scouts pay attention to those games. And after the way he played Friday, I'm sure a lot of colleges are having second thoughts."

"I doubt that," the dark-haired girl retaliates, rolling her brown eyes. "Jack is an amazing player on the regular, so he's probably already set for college. But word is going to get out about how he played Friday, so he's gonna have to prove himself all over again."

I bite down on my bottom lip as I unintentionally overhear the two girls conversing, their words sinking in and replaying in my mind. I suppose the dark-haired girl is right when she says that Jack is going to have to prove himself once again to colleges and potential scouts, meaning he has no room left over for simple mistakes during the remainder of the season. Closing my eyes, I find myself seeing Jack on the field, eyes on mine, oblivious to anything else around him. Replaying that moment in my head, it's clear to see that my presence was distracting to Jack, therefore leading him to be off his game. Not that I'm blaming myself for what happened with him Friday, but I know it must have been hard for him to see me, after everything. And if I was that distracting to him, he has no idea the effect he still has on me. It's a little hard for me to believe that I have the power to mess with Jack now that we're done and our entire relationship had been fake on his end.

"It's whatever, though," the blonde mutters, shrugging. "He's a Crawford. Even if one of his scholarships gets revoked, it's not like he can't afford to pay his way into some ivy league."

"True," the dark-haired girl agrees with a smirk. "I bet it's never been a better time to be a Crawford." Laughing to themselves, I notice the girls gathering their things and exiting the library out of the corner of my eye, leaving me to myself. Alone, I find the girls' words looping in my memory, playing over and over, begging to be heard.

I find myself wondering if that's the way people really see Jack. Oh, he's Jack Crawford. The rich boy. Is everyone around here really that superficial? Do they really perceive Jack as a boy who has everything set for him, whose path is set in stone that can't be broken, no matter how badly Jack messes up? Do people not realize that Jack is also a person, with his own feelings and thoughts bubbling beneath his surface? That he is so much more than his last name and family money? From what I just heard, I can only assume that it's hard for Jack to trust most people, considering the way they seem to think of him. I wonder if—