“Where are you, Cole? You said you’d be at the lake half an hour ago.”
“I’ll be there soon,” I promise, before hanging up.
I climb to my feet reluctantly, stretching my arms above my head before heading in the direction of the parking lot. My body’s not used to doing this much running. I rely on the power of my left arm to ensure the football reaches the end zone, and I have a new respect for athletes who play sports that don’t allow them to sit back on their heels.
Specifically, Maeve Stevens.
There’s only one other car in the paved rectangle that comprises the parking lot. I climb inside my SUV and head back toward Alleghany.
It takes me twenty minutes to reach my driveway, and I’m relieved to see both of my parents’ cars are missing. I go in through the front door, kicking off the sneakers I wore to the park in the immaculate entryway.
I head into my room, not bothering to change my sweaty t-shirt. I simply swap out my athletic shorts for a pair of swim trunks, and then grab a baseball cap before heading back downstairs. I’m in and out in a matter of minutes.
It’s a short drive to Alleghany’s public stretch of lakeshore from my house. I park along the side of the road, behind the long line of cars overflowing from the parking area. I stroll casually onto the sand that’s made from a mixture of beige and light gray grains. The central congregation is all Alleghany High students, with some families and younger kids present on the periphery. A few girls, who look to be freshman or sophomores, giggle as I pass them.
My arrival causes its usual stir as I infiltrate the grouping that consists mostly of seniors. Chris breathes an exaggerated sigh of relief when I make my way over to his side.
“Where the hell have you been, Cole?” he asks from his seat in the sand.
“I told you I was training,” I reply, grabbing a sports drink from the cooler sitting in the sand.
“Yeah, three hours ago! You’ve seriously been practicing this whole time?”
“Uh-huh,” I respond, taking a long drink of the cold liquid. I should have known better than to not bring a drink to the field after running sprints with Maeve last night.
I cap the bottle and pull my still-damp t-shirt over my head. The move draws several admiring glances from the girls gathered around us, but none of the heated gazes I feel on me have a fraction of the effect Maeve’s did last night.
“Jesus, Cole,” Chris remarks. “You weren’t getting enough attention already? Way to make the rest of us look bad.”
I roll my eyes. He spends as much time at the gym as I do. “I’m going swimming,” I inform him.
“Water’s freezing,” Chris warns.
“Those two children seem to be managing all right.” I laugh as I nod to the couple of kids splashing in the shallows.
Chris flips me off, and I grin at him before I head toward the sparkling water. I dive in as soon as the water reaches my waist, and the sticky residue of sweat disappears once I submerge myself in the refreshing liquid. I swim out a few hundred feet to the floating dock that’s marooned offshore, but I don’t pull myself up onto the weathered surface. I turn around and head back toward the shore instead.
When I emerge from the water, I make a point to send some errant drops of water Chris’s way. He flips me off as I settle in the sand beside him. Charlie has appeared, but there’s no sign of Adam.
“Hey, Wes,” Charlie greets. “Chris said you were training?”
“Yup,” I reply, retrieving my drink and taking another long sip.
I expect Charlie to give me a hard time about showing up late too, but he looks pleased. “Good. Glenmont started their captain’s practices today.”
“Are you serious?” Chris replies. “Already?”
“Yup,” Charlie confirms. “It was all over their social media.”
“Shit,” Chris says. “I mean, it’s not surprising after last year’s game. We all knew Stevens would be out for blood. This is his last chance.”
“We’ll be ready,” Charlie predicts confidently. “I already told the boys to make sure Glenmont knows our quarterback practiced all morning. Nice work, Cole.”
I tilt my head casually in acknowledgement of his compliment, but my mind is racing.
Because I didn’t spend the morning training to lead him to victory. I spent it flirting with a girl who’s so off-limits she should come with a custom warning label.
A girl who’s making me reconsider why I should hate the residents of the town I’m currently staring at across the calm surface of the lake.