While setting the table, I catch Heather glancing at me and then twisting to lean into my sister’s ear, her moving lips barely disguised by Danielle’s wavy bob.
Something’s up.
And the only thing I’m keeping secret from everyone but Ryan is football.
Which makes me extremely nervous, even if it kills me to be keeping secrets from my sister. Because I don’t think there’s been a single thing about my life I haven’t told her. Okay, maybe not my entire life. Maybe just my athletic life. But up until boys started getting interesting, there was nothing we didn’t share.
Until now.
Part of me thinks Danielle might actually be proud of me if she knew I was playing football. But most of me doesn’t even want to attempt that conversation.
So, though present at dinner, I’m slightly off my game, letting conversation swirl around me.
Dad’s asking Mom about her doctor’s appointments next week, so he can make sure to be there. Heather and Danielle have gone from whispering to making eyes at each other. Ryan is on his third helping of pot roast and has totally splattered meat juice on his white T-shirt—that I can’t keep quiet about.
“Ry, what the hell? You look like pot roast Jackson Pollock.” I laugh and toss my napkin at him.
Danielle joins in. “They’re not going to let you into high school tomorrow looking like that.”
“What,” he whines at both of us, not even touching my napkin. “It’s not like I’m going to wear the same shirt. Jeez.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Danielle says. “You need to look nice in high school.”
“Oh, what do you two know about what a high school really looks like? There aren’t normal-people clothes at Windsor Prep.”
Danielle tosses back her head. “Fancy uniforms show stains just as well as stuff from Target, right, Liv?”
I’m supposed to laugh and agree, so I do. Like a champ. But my mind is stuck on the fact that tomorrow I won’t be in my Windsor Prep uniform. I won’t be with my friends. And even though I’m feeling slightly better about Northland after joining the team, it’s still everything I don’t want.
After the laughter dies, I grow quiet again. Maybe it’s the two-a-days, or the secrets, or going back to school. But I suddenly really need to be alone.
“May I be excused?” I ask, eyes directed at Mom. The second it’s out of my mouth and I’m looking at her, guilt pings through my stomach—I really shouldn’t pass up any time I can spend with Mom.
She smiles and says, “We’ve got dessert coming—”
“Oreo cheesecake,” Heather finishes, blue eyes flashing as she cuts off Mom. OMG, that’s so much better than Jell-O in any shape, and Heather is the queen bee of desserts.
Still. My stomach so can’t take that right now.
“Thanks, but I’m good,” I say with a forced smile and stand up, hauling my plate and glass. “I’ve got to get ready for school in the morning.”
Heather cocks a brow. “Preparation is Oreo cheesecake. I read that on the internet, so it must be true.”
“SHHHH, Heather, I want her piece,” says Ryan, gripping his fork and knife like Wile E. Coyote.
“Like I wasn’t going to give you half,” I say, forcing out a laugh before disappearing to collapse onto my bed. My jersey, pads, and tights are there, stinking up things while mostly hidden under the covers, and I know I should sneak to the basement to wash them, but for now, it feels good to be stationary.
To just be Liv.
Not a brand-new junior. Not a backup quarterback. Not anything but Liv.
Okay, I can sit still for only about thirty seconds before I have to do something. So out comes my phone, and I cue up one of the bazillion YouTube clips I’ve found featuring quarterback heroics from games of yore, plus newer clips of Patrick Mahomes, Andrew Luck, Jared Goff, Marcus Mariota, and Sam Bradford. I even pull up a clip of Drew Brees decapitating a piñata, just because.
“Liv?” A knock comes on the door, my sister’s voice behind it.
I shove the phone under the comforter and make sure my stupid red jersey isn’t poking out, either.
“Yeah?”
“Can I come in?” she asks. And she never asks. Usually she just barges right on in.
“Uh, sure.”
Danielle bursts in alone, Heather nowhere in sight. Probably distracting the rest of the crew with cheesecake. She shuts the door and turns slowly, a false smile plastered across her suntanned face.
It doesn’t work. It’s weird. I stare at her for a moment longer than I can stand, then blurt out, “Oh my God, what is it?”
Her smile falls and her face lands into its regular lines. I can breathe again. “You didn’t do anything, Liv. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Danielle’s eyes lift and meet mine—dark meeting dark.
“I’m fine. I just didn’t want cheesecake.”
“That’s not what I meant—you look like hell.” She sits on the bed and I half expect her to pull out my dirty jersey. It takes all the strength I have left after two-a-day hell not to glance down at the rumpled covers. Why couldn’t she just sit on Ryan’s bed? Well, because it’s a rat’s nest of jockstraps and shin guards—but still.
She sighs hard enough that I can smell the Trader Joe’s merlot on her breath.
“You don’t need to play tough, baby girl.” My lips drop open and I’m about to call for Ryan, just so I can give him hell for being a stupid snitch after all the crap I bought him. But then Danielle grabs my hand. “Anybody would be having a rough time starting a new school as a junior.”
I blink.
She thinks I’m only stressed about starting at Northland. Not because she knows about football and thinks I’m being reckless.
“Look, I know this year isn’t shaping up to be what you want—heck, it’s not exactly starting off to be what I want either.” I swallow, knowing that she means she’d much rather have me in the Windsor Prep weight room than across town. Maybe even in her Honors English section like Addie if Principal Meyer were cool with that. “You know me—I hate things I can’t control.”
Her fingers try to flatten the bumps on my comforter. Part of me would be fine with her discovering the jersey underneath. It would sort of be a relief to be found out. I think.
She stands but lingers by the bed, fingertips still grazing the edge of my comforter. “But really—are you okay? This new school thing is a big deal.”
“No—no, I’m not okay.” I take a shaky breath and press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying hard not to cry. When I pull my hands away, Danielle grabs one and squeezes. I manage to take a deep breath. “I’m not okay, but if this is what I have to do to survive and advance, then it’s what I’ll do.”
Danielle smiles and brushes a piece of hair out of my face, her fingers cool on my hot skin. “Just like you’ll survive cross-country, right?”
Oh. Shit. I nod, internally kicking myself. I should’ve known that she wouldn’t just forget about that little detail.
“When’s your first meet? I’d like to go.”
Double shit. “I don’t know yet. I’ll find out.”