Dae grinned. “Fuller what?”
“He gave me a DVD for Gramps. It’s an old NBA championship game from 1957. Boston Celtics versus the St. Louis Hawks. Double overtime.” A smile spread across my face. “Gramps is going to love it.”
“Could he be any more adorable?” Dae did his best impersonation of me.
Tossing the chip back at him, I burst out laughing.
…
“Please place your papers in the basket on your way out.” Mrs. Brewster pointed to the wire basket placed on a bookcase near the door. Several people groaned, but she ignored them. “You can expect them back next week.” She was one of the only teachers who still expected us to print out everything. Most of the time, we just submitted our assignments electronically.
I’d already turned my paper in and received an awesome grade, but I knew the anxiety that came with turning in a big assignment. I stole a glance at Fuller. He had his paper in his hand. He’d even put it in a report cover.
As the class shuffled out, I got up and made my way toward the door. Fuller and I met up in the hallway. “You did it!”
He grinned. “I totally did. I feel like the paper is so good. My mom and dad read it last night and said it was the best thing I’d ever written.”
“Well, I don’t know what else you’ve written, but I’m really proud of you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, Wren.”
“True.” I chuckled. “But your hard work is what’s going to earn you that A.”
Fuller laughed as he opened the library door for me.
We found our regular table and got seated. I bit my lower lip as Fuller’s arm brushed against mine, my thoughts drifting back to last night. The way he’d held my hand in the hospital. Our intense make-out session. Scratch that, make-out sessions, plural. I could feel heat pooling in the apples of my cheeks. I wasn’t sure how Fuller and I had ended up in this situation or how we could ever make it work—I mean, we were practically on opposite ends of the popularity spectrum—but I wanted it to more than anything.
“More importantly,” Fuller said, plopping his backpack on the table, “any new updates on Gramps?” His brow creased with concern.
We’d been texting each other on and off all morning. “Yes, he ate some pudding and a piece of toast. The doctors said that it’s a really good sign that he has an appetite.”
“That’s amazing. I’m so glad his recovery is off to such a great start.”
“Me too. I’m visiting him after school. I’m going to bring my laptop and the DVD you got him. I figured that would put a smile on his face.” I patted my backpack, where I’d safely tucked the DVD away. “Oh, that reminds me, I picked up something for your brother.” I unzipped my backpack and pulled out a Deadpool laptop sticker. “I found it at the gas station this morning.”
Tingles shot through my fingertips as I handed him the sticker.
Fuller’s eyes lit up. “Wren, this is awesome. He’s going to love it.”
The way my name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down my back.
“Seriously, thank you.”
I grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“Wren, Fuller, what a coincidence meeting you two here.”
Snapping my head around, my gaze landed on Dae. He was wearing a cheesy grin and waving.
“What are you doing?” I mouthed.
Ignoring me, Dae pulled out the chair across the table and plopped down in it. “I finished my Ancient Civilizations paper early, so Mr. Norman gave me the okay to come here and pick out some books for the end-of-quarter research project.” He kicked his feet up onto an empty chair.
“Well isn’t that nice of Mr. Norman.” I gave Dae a sarcastic smile. He and I were a lot alike, including our preference for turning in our assignments early.
“Dude, you’ve already turned in your paper and started on your research project?” Fuller’s eyes went wide. Fuller and Dae both had Mr. Norman, but at different times during the school day.
“Yup.” Dae chuckled. “I’m not the type to leave things until the last minute.”
Fuller laughed. “Last minute? The paper isn’t due until next week and the project isn’t due for another month. That’s, like, a lifetime away.”
For a moment, I thought Dae might be offended. But instead he joined in the laughter.
After what seemed like forever, Fuller and Dae stopped chuckling.
“Aren’t you two hilarious.” I rolled my eyes but burst into laughter in the process. That set the two of them off again.
The librarian appeared from nowhere. “You three are being way too loud. If you can’t lower your voices, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Her lips turned downward into a disapproving frown. “This isn’t a roast on Comedy Central.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth, stifling a giggle as I pictured Mrs. Parsons settling down in front of Snoop Dogg roasting Justin Bieber. “Yes, ma’am.”
We all waited for her to disappear behind a stack of shelves before saying another word.
Dae leaned forward and whispered, “You ready for the season opener against the Falcons?”
Fuller hesitated for a moment before nodding. “It’s going to be a tough game, but I think we can pull off a win.”
He had on a maroon polo today and dark wash jeans. My mind wandered and I pictured our second kiss last night. I wanted to slide my fingers through his belt loops again and pull him in for a kiss. Dae’s voice snapped me out of my daydream and brought me back to reality. As long as Fuller brought his grade up, he’d be playing in the season opener. Which meant our tutoring sessions would be ending soon.
Will he still want to hang out with me? Or is whatever we’re doing only happening because it’s convenient? No, he wouldn’t do that.
Would he?
“Their point guard, Nate Branson, is a total beast.” Dae’s eyes were wide. “But he’s not as quick as you or TyShaun.”
Fuller flinched but quickly replaced it with a smile. “Coach has us running in the off-season and it’s really helped.” He checked over his shoulder, ensuring the librarian wasn’t still watching. “We’ve been working on sprints and long distance. I’ve always been pretty good at short distances, but I was absolute crap at running anything longer than a mile. Now, I can run five miles in under an hour.”
“Not too shabby.” The corners of my lips twitched. I had no idea that Fuller had been running in the off-season.
“Not too shabby?” Fuller’s eyes lit up. “Okay, Miss Professional Runner, how many miles do you run in an hour?”
“Seven on a decent day. Eight on a good day.”
Fuller’s jaw dropped. “You’re seriously that fast?”
Dae chuckled. “She’s that fast.”
Fuller exhaled and pressed himself back from the table. His chair teetered on the back two legs. “Maybe you can give me a few tips sometime?”
“I could do that.” I pictured running alongside Fuller. Sweat dripping down our bodies, muscles pumping in unison, and our endorphins rushing. Tingles shot through my body as the scene played out in my mind.
“All right, well, I better get those books and get back to class.” Dae winked at me. “Good talking to you, Fuller.”
“Same, Dae.”
A few seconds later, my friend disappeared into the reference section of the library.
I pulled out my Calculus textbook. “Since we don’t have any Lit homework, I’m going to try to knock out my math before I go visit Gramps.”
“Good idea. I’ve got some, too.” Fuller slipped his Algebra Two book out of his backpack and set it on the wooden table with a thud. “I don’t think I’ve ever finished all my homework before heading to practice.”
“Speaking of, how did the polynomial and monomial assignment go last night?”
Fuller opened
his notebook and tapped the top of the page.
“Wow, thirty-eight out of forty? That’s ninety-five percent.”
“How do you know it’s ninety-five?” Fuller looked down at his paper.
I shrugged. “I did the math in my head.”
“Wow, I had to figure it out with my calculator.” He chuckled. “You’re seriously the smartest person I know.” Fuller ran his hand through his hair. “I’m totally jealous.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You’re jealous of me. Yeah right.”
“Um, yes, I am right.” Fuller nudged my arm with his.
I arched an eyebrow. “You’re like the most popular guy at our school. Plus, you’re the best basketball player who’s come through Magnolia Valley in, like, a century. You’re the only prep basketball player to have over ten triple doubles under your belt going into your senior season. People practically worship you.”
“Just because I’m popular and good at basketball doesn’t mean I can’t be jealous of you. You’re seriously smart. Sometimes, it takes me twice as long to pick up on new concepts. It can be super frustrating.”
I paused and took in what Fuller had admitted. I had no idea he felt that way.
Fuller’s leg brushed against mine, but instead of pulling it away, he kept it there. “I know things started out pretty rough between us, but I’m really grateful for all your help.”
“I’m glad things worked out between us, too.” As soon as the words left my lips, I realized how open-ended they sounded.
“So am I.” Fuller’s blue eyes twinkled.
My heart skipped a beat as he took my hand in his. “Really glad.”
“Ahem.”
Spinning around, I saw the librarian frowning at us and shaking her head.
I pulled my hand away from Fuller and gave the librarian a sheepish look.
“Right,” Fuller said, winking at me, “about that math homework.”
She made a clucking sound with her tongue as she headed back to a cart of books that needed to be returned to the shelves. “This is not the back row of the movie theater, Miss Carter and Mr. James.”
Cheeks blazing, I reached into my backpack for my calculator. Man, Mrs. Parsons’s superpower had to be her ability to pull out a “This is not,” example at any given moment.
“Hey, Wren.”
I turned my head just in time for Fuller to steal a quick kiss.
As he pulled away, he whispered with an eyebrow raise, “Maybe we can go to a movie sometime and sit in the back.”
Chapter Fourteen
Fuller
“Fuller, my man.” Spinning around, I came face-to-face with Marc.
“Oh, hey, Marc.” The high from kissing Wren faded as my teammate slapped his hand on my shoulder. “What’s up?”
“Word on the street is that you’re spending a lot of time with Wrentainer.” He grinned and motioned with his hips. “A lot of time.”
I shoved him, hard. “Don’t call her that.”
We used to joke around with each other all the time. Now I realized how immature we’d been.
“Sensitive subject I see.” He held up his hands in a surrender position and laughed. “Well, you’ve already got step one of the bet done. How’s the second part coming along? Is Wren ready to walk down the hallway holding your hand?”
“I want out of the bet.” I kept my voice low and calm.
Marc’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why?”
My mouth went dry. “It doesn’t matter. I want out, and Wren can never know about it.”
“No way!” Marc said with a grin. “You’re just trying to get out of wearing the wrestling singlet.”
“It’s not like that, but I need you to drop it. I’ll wear that stupid outfit for forty-eight hours straight if you promise me that you’ll never mention the bet to anyone ever again.”
“Holy crap,” he said in disbelief. “You actually like her. You’ve got it bad for Wrentainer.”
“I said, don’t call her that.”
Marc blinked several times before shaking his head. “So it’s true.”
“What is?”
“I never thought you’d fall for Wrenta— I mean, Wren. Marissa is going to blow a gasket when she finds out. You do know that she’s telling everyone you’re going to ask her to the Fall Harvest Dance.”
“I don’t give a crap.” Ignoring the cluster of freshmen in the hallway, I leaned in to my best friend. “I need to get out of the bet—now.”
“Like I said: no way.” Marc laughed and shook his head.
Losing my cool, I shoved Marc up against a locker. “Why the hell not?”
Marc’s eyes shot open. “What‘s your problem?”
A girl with black hair and braces stared at me, her mouth agape.
Aware that we had an audience and that I had one of my closest friends up against a locker, I let go of Marc’s shirt. “We’ll finish this later.”
As I stormed down the hallway, I tried to figure out how I could convince Marc to forget about the bet. A sinking feeling spread in my stomach. It wasn’t just him I’d need to convince, though—TyShaun knew about it, too.
I shoved the locker room door open. It rebounded off the wall with a thwack.
Get your crap together, Fuller. You can figure this out, but slamming doors open and throwing teammates up against lockers isn’t going to help anyone.
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I made my way to my locker.
Just as I opened it, a hand reached out from behind me and smashed it shut.
“Marc, I’m sorry about earlier. I—”
Much to my surprise, Brandon’s face appeared instead of Marc’s. His features were tight and his entire face was beet red.
“Now’s not a good time, Edwards.” I tried to remain calm, but my adrenaline was already raging and my heart was thumping wildly in my chest.
Brandon grabbed me by the shoulder. “We need to talk.”
“Get your hands off me.” My chest heaved with each word.
“Somewhere private.” He let his hands fall to his sides.
I nodded toward the opposite side of the locker room. “Equipment room.” People were rarely in there. Especially once practice started for the season.
Flipping on the light, I waited for Brandon to pull the door shut behind us.
“I thought I told you to stay away from Wren.” He pushed his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. “She’s my best friend, and she doesn’t need some jackass leading her on.”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“Really? Well then, explain what the hell it does look like, because I, for one, am confused.”
Rubbing my face with both hands, I exhaled loudly. “Look, I like her. A lot.” A huge weight lifted from my chest. “Seriously. I’m really into her.”
Brandon took a step back and blinked several times. “You’re what?”
“It’s complicated, though.”
Brandon jutted out his chin. “Complicated?”
“Brand, I’d never hurt Wren. All I need to do is get through this next week and a half. Then everything will be fine.” I took a step back, bumping into a net-like bag holding at least fifteen soccer balls.
“I don’t believe you.” Brandon shook his head.
“That’s on you. All you need to know is that I care about Wren.”
He crossed his arms. “All you need to know is that I’ll beat your ass if you do anything to hurt her.”
“Understood.” I only knew about one fight Brandon had ever been in and the other guy ended up with a black eye and bruised ribs. He didn’t mess around, and if I did anything to hurt Wren, I’d be in big trouble.
Chapter Fifteen
Wren
“I still can’t believe he kissed you in the library.�
�� Dae chuckled. “That’s some nerdy shit, Wren. Even for you.”
Shoving Dae’s shoulder, I popped a grape into my mouth and chewed. We’d snagged a spot at a table in a quiet corner of the cafeteria. Luckily, we were the only two sitting there and no one else could hear our conversation.
“I told myself over and over again that I’d never fall for someone like Fuller James. I mean, he’s so not my type, but the more I get to know him, the more we have in common. Plus, he’s so sweet. He sent me a text as soon as he got home from practice to check and see how Gramps was doing. That stupid tough guy act he puts out there isn’t the real him at all.”
“I’m glad Gramps is doing better. My mom’s making a gigantic batch of kimchi this weekend. She wanted to know if she could drop some off for everyone on Saturday?”
My mouth watered at the thought of Dae’s mother’s cooking. “Yum. His favorite. That’s really sweet. I’ll let my mom and dad know.” I reached down and rubbed the back of my leg; my hamstrings were a little tight. I made a mental note to do a longer warm-up on my next run and to do a better job of stretching afterward.
“Good deal.” Dae dunked a carrot stick in a small cup of ranch dressing. “So, not to dwell on the negative or anything, but what about the whole Marissa thing?”
My shoulders sank. I’d heard the whispers in the hallways. I’d seen the picture of her from last year, wearing the Fall Harvest Princess crown on that gossip Instagram account. There were dozens of comments about her and Fuller winning the princess and prince titles back to back. “I know.”
My eyes wandered to the wall behind Dae. Posters advertising the dance had been plastered across every square inch. The LGBTQIA+ committee had been in charge of organizing the dance this year. They’d secured the best DJ in town and the dance was going to be epic. I closed my eyes for a second, and pictured Fuller and me slow dancing in the middle of the gym.
Dae crunched on the carrot, bringing me back to reality. “She’s telling everyone that Fuller is going to ask her to the Fall Harvest Dance. Has he said anything about her?”
“No, we never talk about Marissa.” A bitter taste filled my mouth as I said her name.
I Hate You, Fuller James Page 13
