Total pages in book: 174
Estimated words: 172061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 860(@200wpm)___ 688(@250wpm)___ 574(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 172061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 860(@200wpm)___ 688(@250wpm)___ 574(@300wpm)
He didn’t care.
He shoved at the people in his way, shouting, “Daisy! Daisy! Would you wait up?”
She kept moving, shouldering through. Frazzled, pained energy rolled off her in waves. She pushed out the double doors at the end of the hall.
He ran out behind her, eyes scanning to find her running down the steps and toward the parking lot. The hints of cinnamon in her brown, wavy hair glinted beneath the sunlight, and her spirit moaned and thrashed.
“Daisy!” He dashed after her, not giving a fuck that everyone poured out the door behind them to witness what was going down.
She increased her pace, basically jogging with her ridiculously huge backpack bouncing on her back.
“Daisy,” he rasped when he finally caught up. He took her by the elbow and whirled her back toward him.
She slammed her eyes closed. “Just go back inside, Cash. She’s right. You don’t need to be hanging out with someone like me.”
“Someone like you? Who? Someone who’s kind and giving and thoughtful? Someone who really gets me? Actually fucking listens to me? Someone I get in return? Someone who’ll pretty much do anything for me the same way as I’d do for her? My best fucking friend? Is that who you’re talking about?”
Tears poured down her face, and she itched on her feet. “She’s your girlfriend.”
“Not anymore.”
“Cash, I don’t think I can—”
He pushed forward, invading her space. “Don’t you get it, Daisy? I need you, and I think you need me, too.”
“But I’m not anything like them.” Daisy peeked at the crowd of people who were supposed to be his friends, where they loitered on the steps, half of them laughing and others whispering beneath their breaths.
“Good.” He reached out with his thumb and gathered a tear that streaked down her cheek. “Don’t listen to her, Daisy. Don’t listen to a fucking thing she says or anything any of them say. They’re completely wrong about you. The only thing you need to know is you’re amazing.”
Sniffling, she averted her gaze.
“Hey, I’m getting offended over here.” He injected as much lightness as he could into his voice. “Your clear response should be, ‘And you’re amazing, too.’”
She choked over a little laugh, wiping at her face as she mumbled, “Stop it.”
“I’m not stopping anything when it comes to you, my Little Wallflower. Now let’s go eat. I’m starving, and I need my energy for the game tonight.”
Bright lights rained from above and sweat poured down his back. His uniform was covered in grass and mud. His entire body was a dull throb from the number of hits he’d taken through the night.
But he fed on it. The aggression that churned on the field.
The timer ran down.
It was the fourth quarter, and thirty-two seconds were left in the game. They were down by one, and it was fourth and ten.
They’d played well, but the other team was crazy good. Whatever his team put down, they pushed right back.
They’d been neck in neck the entire night.
Now, they were trailing, and he had this one chance to turn things around.
His receiver bounced beside him as he gave the play, and he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.
His nerves scrambled. Pressure hitting him from all sides.
He set himself up behind the center, though he let his attention skate to the home stadium that was completely packed. No question, the scouts were peppered sporadically throughout.
His mom and dad were there. In the front row where they always sat. His mom’s fingers were anxiously threaded together, her love and belief pouring out. His dad gave him a thumbs-up. A silent ‘you can do this’. His encouragement unending.
Brandy and the rest of the cheerleading squad were on the side of the field on the track, amping up the fans in the stadium. Brandy’s face was twisted in a fake smile that he knew was really a pout.
She’d blubbered all over herself in an apology. Saying she was only kidding. That it was a joke.
He’d simply told her to fuck off to where she belonged, which wasn’t with him.
He let his attention keep roving, searching for the one person he couldn’t get off his mind.
Daisy was there in the stands, in the spot where she always was, tucked in the very corner along the far-right side like she could blend in when she should have known she was the most vibrant thing. Her head tucked between her shoulders and chewing on the inside of her cheek the way she always did.
But those cornflower eyes burned bright beneath the glare of the lights. Pouring her belief into him, too.
He turned back, sucked in a deep breath, and shouted, “Blue 31, blue 31, set, hut, hut.”
The center hiked the ball to him, and his team burst into motion.
His linemen shoved forward to protect him from the onslaught of massive players vying to take him down.