“I guess,” I reply. But she’s wrong. The rivalry with Alleghany has taken plenty from me. But it’s never bothered me before, and I know exactly why it’s bothering me now. “How is cheer going?” I ask.
“It’s all right. A lot more intense than I’m used to.” I grin at that, and Maggie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I actually got invited to the lake last Saturday with the rest of the cheer team. And Weston Cole was there, so Natalie was actually bearable.”
“Oh, really?” He must have gone after our soccer game. “Did you talk to him?”
My bold, brash best friend lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, right. I would have had to fight my way through twenty people to even get near him.”
“Huh,” is my only comment.
Aside from the brief glimpse of him in the kitchen at the party and just now in the diner, I’ve never seen Wes around his friends and classmates before. I know he’s popular, obviously, but Maggie’s words make me wonder about meaningless things. Impossible things. Like what it would have been like to be able to visit Alleghany’s side of the lake this past weekend.
If I had been there, would I have had to fight my way through a crowd to talk to him?
“Maeve? Maeve!”
I look over at Maggie. “What?”
She rolls her eyes. “You totally zoned out.”
“Sorry,” I respond. “I’m pretty tired.”
“I’m not surprised. You’re doing your usual insane training schedule, working at Mo’s, and doing that college prep class, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You know, summer’s supposed to be about having some fun,” Maggie informs me.
“I’m having fun right now.”
She smiles. “Good answer.” Her phone dings, and she pulls it out of her bag. “How thoughtful.” “The team went out to eat without me and posted photos, but I’m invited for the ‘optional’ practice.” She tosses her phone back in her bag with a derisive snort. “They went to Mo’s, weren’t you just there?”
“Yeah,” I shift uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to say anything…”
“It’s fine, Maeve.” Maggie leans her head back against the chair and lets out a long sigh. “Bit of a disappointing summer, no?”
I make a noncommittal noise in response, settling back in my own chair and letting the sun warm my face. It’s an affirmative sound, but I don’t agree with her rhetorical question.
Thrilling, exciting, tempting? Yes.
Disappointing? Not at all.
CHAPTERSEVEN
WESTON
“Your footwork was definitely more balanced that time,” Maeve compliments, tossing the football back to me. “The spiral was perfect.”
I’m quickly learning Maeve Stevens doesn’t do anything half-assed. Meaning ever since the second time we met at this park a few weeks ago, when she stood and caught throw after throw for four hours while reciting vocabulary from the college prep class she’s taking and spewing stories from the true crime podcasts she listens to, she’s switched to sharing feedback on my throwing technique. And it’s obvious she knows what she’s talking about.
I told her she doesn’t have to, and she simply shrugged and told me it’s nothing my coach wouldn’t tell me. I suppose that’s true, but I’ve certainly never spent countless hours tossing the pigskin back and forth with Coach Blake.
“I’ve got to go,” Maeve tells me after a few more throws. “I told my mom I’d be home by seven.”
“Big plans tonight?” I ask as we gather up our belongings.
“Not really. You?”
“Nah, just going mini-golfing with some friends. I’d invite you, but…”