on a rocky path.”
I roll my eyes.
“You can fix it by telling me how you begged for it.” His eyes spark. “On your knees? On your back? Sixty-Nine? Or maybe— ”
I throw a small rock at his chest, shutting him up. “I told you it didn’t go that far. It was the drugs.”
He’s silent for a second. “I don’t think the drugs make you want someone you never wanted before.”
“How would you know that?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Just saying.”
“Whatever that means. Are you going to tell me your huge news?”
“Two words, baby.” He lifts his index and middle fingers. “Starting. Lineup.”
“What?”
“Coach chose me for the upcoming game’s starting lineup!”
“Wow, that’s great, Dan.” I can’t fake my enthusiasm no matter how much I try to.
He laughs before it all disappears and he gives me his poker face. “Your disinterest is showing, bugger.”
“Sorry, but I thought you didn’t care for the football team anymore?”
“Hell no! I said they don’t care for me.” He rubs his hands together with mischievousness and achievement written all over his face. “I knew my time would come! No more benching.”
“I knew you could do it.” I clasp his shoulder in a bro hug. “I’m proud of you, mate.”
“Hell yeah, baby. I’m proud of me!” He slaps his hand in the air as if he’s swatting an imaginary arse. “Can you imagine the number of girls who’ll be throwing themselves at me after the game?”
“You’re seriously a pig. Is that all you want to play football for?”
“It’s a primary reason. My to-do list will expand with this shit.” He snatches my half-eaten Hamburger and finishes it in two, huge bites. “There’s also all that glorious cheering and adrenaline. You’ll love it.”
“No, bug. Football and I aren’t friends, remember?”
“You promised,” he says over a mouthful of hamburger.
“No, I didn’t.”
“First year.” He switches to a calm, posh accent like some old BBC news anchor and fakes holding a mic. “When Daniel and Astrid first became friends, Astrid told him she hates football and Daniel told her he hates art. So they agreed to never fake interest for each other. However, Daniel promised to attend Astrid’s exhibition if she has one. In return, Astrid promised to attend Daniel’s games if he becomes a starter.”
“Ugh. I did.”
“Yes, you did, bugger.” He waggles an eyebrow, doing a mic drop motion. “You’re keeping that promise. Saturday night. Home game. We’re kicking some arse this season.”
There goes my plan to drag Dan with me to a museum.
“This is the captain’s last year and he’s so going to nail it.”
I hit his shoulder again. “Hey, bug, I might be attending your game, but save me the idolisation of Levi when he’s actively ruining my life.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t push against him. He’s King.”
“I’m hiding at the back garden for lunch, do I seem like I’m pushing?” I sound as incredulous as I feel.