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“She is trailer trash.” Ashley’s sharp voice wiped the smile off my face.

“Like I said, a step up from you,” Jensen quipped.

I elbowed him in the ribs.

“Why do you care?” A tinge of anger crept into my voice as I stared down at Ashley. I’d bared my soul to her, and she dumped me while implying I was a murderer in the making. As far as I was concerned, that left me free to give my jersey, and anything else of mine, to whoever I wanted. “You ended things. I’m moving on.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “You don’t have to do it so fast or so publicly. Giving her my jersey, really? It probably still smells like me,” she whined.

“You mean like wet dog?” Jensen asked.

She scowled in his direction. “Screw you.”

“We don’t have time for this.” He gripped my arm and yanked me sideways.

Ashley’s glare followed us all the way to our next class.

Jensen and I parted ways after History. I managed to avoid Jasmine and Ashley for the next two periods, although people were already talking about Jasmine and me kissing in the hallway and getting busted by Mr. James. I listened to the gossip with a smug smile but didn’t confirm or deny a thing.

At lunch, Jensen found me outside the cafeteria.

His worried expression set me on edge.

“I need to talk to you.” He motioned me toward the doors that led to the parking lot behind the school.

We walked outside, both of us heading toward my truck. We’d take cover by the tailgate of my truck. Each twitchy movement and glance he threw over his shoulder tightened a knot in my stomach.

“What crawled up your ass?” I asked when he finally stopped moving.

He met my eyes. “Did you tell Ashley about your parents?”

The lead in my stomach that followed me home the other night returned with a cold stab.

“Why are you asking?”

“Did you?” he insisted.

I shoved my hands through my hair. “I told her a little.”

His jaw clenched. “Why would you tell her of all people? You know that bitch can’t keep her mouth shut.”

“Don’t—” She wasn’t my girlfriend anymore, so why should I care what Jensen called her? “That’s why she broke up with me.”

“Fucking cow.” He banged his fist against his thigh. “Wait, what do you mean?”

I gave him a brief version of Ashley’s explanation.

For a moment, he stood there slack-jawed and stunned, speechless. “What kind of ass-backward nonsense is that?”

I shrugged. “I shouldn’t have told her.”

“No. You shouldn’t have.” He flung an arm toward the school. “One of your douchey football bros cornered me in the hall and asked me about your parents.”

“What?” I jammed my fingers through my hair even harder. “Why?”

He tapped his forehead in that sarcastic way I hated. “Gee, let me think. Maybe after your game of grab-ass with Jasmine, Ashley decided to drag your skeletons out of the closet for everyone to play with.”

“She already blabbed to her mom,” I muttered. “What do a few more people matter?”

“Everyone on the team will know by game time. You ready for that?”

“I don’t care,” I answered stubbornly.

He studied me for a few seconds. “Sure. Fine. Just thought I’d warn ya.”

Worrying about my football buddies’ reactions to the story turned out to be a non-issue.

I got called into the principal’s office after lunch.

This was a first for me. Sure, I could be a little asshole when I wanted to be. But I preferred to stay under the radar and out of trouble.

“Logan.” The principal opened his office door and motioned me inside. “Have a seat.”

“What’s going on?” My heart thumped. Maybe something happened to Aunt Em? “Is everything okay?”

“Sit,” he said more forcefully.

I dropped into the chair and waited while he settled behind his desk. “We had a disturbing report of an inappropriate public display of affection earlier today. Between you and a sophomore student.”

“What?” Ashley and I had been caught sucking face plenty of times and were never issued more than a stern warning. Football players just didn’t get into trouble for stuff like making out in the hallway. Calling me into the principal’s office for kissing a girl seemed like a waste of time for both of us.

I pressed my palms against the armrests, preparing to leave. “This is stupid. I kissed a girl for luck. For tonight’s game,” I reminded him in case he’d forgotten who was going to bring home the state championship that year.

He twitched and flipped through a binder on his desk. “It’s in the student code of conduct.” He turned it my way.

I pushed the binder across the desk. “So? Everyone does it every day. Why are you coming down on me when we have a game tonight?”

“You’re not playing. I’ve already spoken to the coach.”

I exploded out of my chair. “What are you talking about? I’m the best running back you’ve got.”


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