Dating the Quarterback (The Bet Duet Book 2)

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Dating the Quarterback (The Bet Duet Book 2) Page 4

by Maggie Dallen


  For the millionth time since I met her, I was torn between exasperation and amusement.

  “Shame,” I said.

  She didn’t look up and I held back a sigh as I turned and walked away. I should have just dropped it. She clearly wanted nothing to do with me and that was fine, because I didn’t have time for girls anyway, right?

  So why was I stopping? I turned around, completely unable to let it go. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  She didn’t even look at me. But I knew she heard me.

  Yeah, this girl was an odd one, but that was what I liked about her. She was different.

  Of course, I didn’t say that a few hours later when we were getting ready for football practice.

  “What’s with you and the weird new girl?” Leroy asked.

  Some of the other guys stopped what they were doing to pay attention as I pulled my jersey over my head. “What do you mean?”

  Yup. Playing dumb. The girl had driven me to this.

  “Is she your friend or something?” Danny asked.

  Danny was a junior, the starting running back, and a pain in my butt. Unfortunately for me, I needed him to make me look good and to help take this team to state, otherwise I’d be more than happy to ignore the little turd.

  I did in the hallways and at parties, but here in the locker room and on the field, we were a team. And teammates didn’t outright ignore each other, so I turned to face him. “I just met her.”

  “Then why…” He stopped, shaking his head in obvious confusion. “The girls are saying you’re into her.”

  The girls meant the cheerleaders, mainly. Erika, Allie, Rosalie and their crew. I knew for a fact that Erika hadn’t said anything about my request to treat Harley nicely, because Erika could be trusted to keep a secret. But I should have guessed that once people saw us in the hall together, and once she’d spread word that Harley got special treatment...they’d connect the dots.

  They’d connect them all wrong, I had no doubt, but they’d still draw their conclusions.

  “Yeah, man, I mean…no offense or whatever,” Danny’s annoying sidekick Adrian joined in. “But you could do so much better.”

  I glared at the little pissant who dared to talk to me about my love life, and watched with a certain level of satisfaction as he cowered and backed away in response. He held up his hands in defense, “Hey, man, like I said—to each his own, right?”

  He hadn’t said that, but I let it go.

  They were all waiting for me to talk, so I took a little extra time lacing up my shoes. I swear, some of these guys were worse gossips than the entire cheerleading squad combined.

  “So what’s her deal?” Danny asked.

  Danny was less intimidated by me than his buddies. He thought we were equals, I supposed, since we were both starting positions. I didn’t look at things that way, but I knew a lot of the guys took that kind of thing seriously. That was why the other junior guys thought Danny was worth something.

  Man, these guys had no idea. Their priorities were so skewed. The only things they valued were boobs and beer.

  Jaded? Me? Yeah, I guess I was a little.

  Finally, when Danny had started to squirm, I looked over to him with a poker face I’d perfected years ago. “What’s her deal?” My voice dripped with derision and I knew it. I wasn’t a cruel guy, but right now…it was kind of fun to watch Danny squirm.

  “Yeah, man,” he said. “You’ve got to admit. She’s not your usual type.”

  “And what’s my usual type?”

  Leroy laughed under his breath beside me as I stood up and loomed over Danny. The guy was no weakling but I was taller, I was broader, and I wasn’t about to let him start dissing Harley. The best way to deal with Danny and his friends was to lay down the law so there was no confusion.

  Sort of like how my older brother dealt with his toddlers. Set the boundaries upfront and let the kids know what they could expect if they overstepped. Idiotic football players or toddlers—the psychology was basically the same.

  Danny still wore that annoying smirk of his as he looked to his friends for help. They weren’t quite making eye contact with him. No one wanted to end up on the losing side here.

  “What’s my type, Danny?” I asked again, quieter than before.

  True power didn’t come from being loud or even being big. It came from being right.

  They all knew I hadn’t dated in ages. I was no saint, and I certainly didn’t live like a monk, but they all knew I didn’t have time for a relationship, either.

  “I’m just saying you can have any girl you want,” Danny said.

  “Yeah, well I want that one.” It came out before I even knew what I was saying.

  And yet…

  They all were staring at me. It wasn’t often I made pronouncements in the locker room, and even less often that they came out sounding like a caveman had just grunted. Me Tristan, me want Harley.

  But even so, I didn’t try to take it back or qualify it. I met the stares aimed at me evenly even though my gut did a freakin’ leap and a voice shouted holy crap, are you for real?!

  Yup. I was for real. I’d meant it.

  I couldn’t explain why, but I wanted Harley.

  Or, at the very least, I wanted a chance to get to know her.

  “That’s cool, man,” Danny said, his voice satisfyingly small as he and his friends headed toward the exit, thoroughly stunned but also on board. They understood now that she was mine.

  Or…she would be.

  Hopefully.

  Maybe.

  “My money’s on you, bro,” Adrian called back.

  I stared at him, but he and Danny and their friends had bounced back to bravado like the brainless chumps they were.

  “Yeah, man,” Danny said in a bigger voice than was warranted. “I’d put money on that bet. I mean, the girls were saying she won’t give you the time of day but give our boy some credit, right?”

  “No one would say no to Tristan,” Adrian agreed.

  I shared a look with Leroy that said what are these fools on about?

  He shrugged.

  “I don’t know, man,” one of their friends said. I couldn’t see which one. “I heard she won’t even look at him.”

  Danny made a psshh noise. “No girl in her right mind would say no to the quarterback.”

  “Yeah, but she’d have to be in her right mind,” Adrian shot back, not seeming to notice that my stare had turned to a glare. “Tara says she’s nuts. Like legit crazy.”

  My hands clenched into fists at my side. Who was saying what about my girl? Well, she wasn’t my girl yet. But still…

  “Homecoming,” one of the guys shouted. Jack, a sophomore wide receiver. “I bet he gets her to go to homecoming with him.”

  “Fifty bucks says she doesn’t,” someone else called out. The herd of idiots had moved out of view, their voices growing distant as we heard the locker room door slam open.

  I turned to Leroy behind me as the rest of the guys in the room went back to getting ready for practice. “What was that?”

  Leroy shook his head. “Looks like there’s a bet to see if you can get her to go to homecoming.” He arched his brows in an unspoken question and I shook my head.

  “What kind of moron would bet on something like that?”

  Leroy just laughed.

  We both finished up getting ready and the locker room had nearly cleared out when Leroy clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I think it’s awesome, dude.” He wore his usual grin—the one that had half the girls in this school in love with him. “I never pegged you as into the artsy type, but whatever floats your boat.”

  I stilled with one hand in my locker. “What do you mean artsy?”

  “I’ve got art class with the new girl.” He looked over at me. “Harley, right?”

  I nodded, more than a little embarrassed that my friend probably knew more about this girl than I did. And I’d, you know…just claimed her like I was some sort of warlord and she was mi
ne for the keeping. I scrubbed a hand over my face. Jeez, this girl had done something to me and I couldn’t even explain what.

  “You know how Sara got me to take art with her,” Leroy said with a roll of his eyes.

  I grinned. His girlfriend was forever trying to get them to do stuff as a couple. Leroy always acted like it was such a burden but I was almost certain he was even more into their couple time than his girlfriend was.

  “The teacher went crazy over the new chick—er, Harley,” he corrected himself. “She’s all into it that stuff and Mrs. Green finally has someone in class who cares.”

  I nodded. Art class. That seemed fitting. I felt a smile tugging at my lips again—unfamiliar and kind of weird, to be honest. I’d gone through the last few years at this school with my head down. I didn’t find much to laugh about or smile about, not because I was depressed or anything, I was just…bored.

  Yeah, that was the word for it. I’d been going through my days in a bored haze, just biding my time until I was set free in college. And once there…well, I didn’t know what magical event I thought might occur, but I had to figure things would change. My world would open up, I’d meet interesting people, have some new experiences.

  And now…

  Well, now Harley came along and I wasn’t so bored anymore. And I kept wanting to laugh. And smile. Just because I was thinking about her.

  Like I’d said, it was weird.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d say the girl was a witch who’d cast a spell. The only problem was, she didn’t seem to have any interest in getting to know me.

  “So this art class—”

  “Last period tomorrow, room forty in the art wing.” Leroy clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Good luck getting your girl, man.”

  5

  Harley

  Art class. Finally. I’d survived another day in this place and was rewarded with art class. This art studio was the first hint of a home since we’d left California. It definitely felt like more of a home than my new house, that was for sure.

  I mean, you try sharing a bathroom with a guy you’ve gone to school with for most of your life.

  Weird. Just…weird.

  Conner’s mom Lanie was nice enough, but she and I were so polite to each other that we were basically walking on eggshells every time our paths crossed. And after a second full day of school, I could safely say that this school was insane. Like, off the charts nuts.

  Conner? He was still a ‘loser,’ although I’d caught more than one girl mooning over him. Maybe they hadn’t gotten the memo that the jocks and the cheerleaders of this school had deemed him persona non grata.

  And me? I was…I don’t know what to call it. I wasn’t invisible, unfortunately, but no one seemed to be mocking me. I was being whispered about, but when I looked at the people whispering, they’d…they’d smile at me. Not sneers, not smirks, but like…smiles.

  I know, right? Cuckoo for cocoa puffs. I had no idea what was going on, but this morning one of the cheerleaders even stopped to help me when she noticed that I was frowning at my class schedule.

  “Don’t look now but you’re being watched.” The whisper from my left would have been creepy if it hadn’t come from the human equivalent of a mouse. Janice was her name—she’d told me yesterday when I’d sat beside her. She’d looked shy and dorky and like the least threatening person in this room so I’d sat beside her in the back. She pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up her nose and leaned over. “Two o’clock.”

  I blinked as the words registered and then I looked ahead and to the right. Sure enough, a football player and his girlfriend were watching me and whispering.

  “What’s that about?” Janice asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  But I could guess.

  It all came back to Tristan, although I’d managed to avoid running into him after yesterday’s weird interaction. As if it hadn’t been strange enough that Tristan had taken the joke even further by coming over to my table, then Conner had gotten it into his head that he should play the role of protective older brother. As if he actually cared whether I was being bullied by the jocks. He’d never cared when I was mocked by our classmates at our old school, so why on earth would he care now?

  “Is it true that Tristan likes you?” Janice asked.

  I turned to face her. With light blonde hair and incredibly pale skin, she looked like she might fade into the white walls behind her. Then, in a heartbeat, she turned beet red and ducked her head. “Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s none of my business.”

  “No, no, that’s okay.” My heart went out to the girl. I wasn’t social but I’d always felt bad for people who were cripplingly shy. That had to suck. Besides, she looked sweet and I found myself wanting to make her feel better. “You can ask me anything, but I can tell you right now I don’t have the answers.” I was trying to joke but it came out too serious. That was pretty much how all my jokes came out. My dad said I was deadpan. I was pretty sure I just didn’t know how to tell a joke.

  “So, he doesn’t like you?” she asked, her eyes hopeful.

  Oh. Oh no… “You like him.”

  It wasn’t a question and her cheeks turned a violent shade of crimson but my respect for her went up a million-fold when she held eye contact and gave me a little smile. “Everyone does.”

  “Well, I don’t,” I said. I mean, sure, he was hot. And yes, I was obviously attracted, but only because I was human and had hormones. If my brain had any say in the matter—and it did—I was so not into him. He wasn’t even my type.

  What was my type? I didn’t exactly know since I’d never dated anyone, but my guess would be lanky, irreverent, and not a football player.

  “Everyone’s saying he likes you,” Janice said.

  Man, she was just not letting this go. “Yeah, well, he’s gone above and beyond with this little game of his.”

  “Game?”

  I shrugged. “What else could it be?”

  Bullying, hazing, teasing…there were lots of words I could use for whatever Tristan was up to, but games was the nicest one I could think of. I might not have liked the guy but I felt oddly bad about badmouthing him to his number one fan.

  “You think he’s joking?” she said.

  I stared at her evenly.

  “I don’t think he’d do that.” She licked her lips. “I’ve been going to school with him since kindergarten,” she said. “He’s just so…so nice.”

  I blinked a couple of times before repeating the word under my breath. “Nice.”

  We stared at each other in silence for a moment, that word sitting there between us like a foreign entity. Nice. The alpha male starring quarterback of Talmore High was nice.

  Huh.

  I’d believe it when I saw it.

  I mean, sure, he’d given me directions to the office, and yeah he’d invited me to sit at his table. But he’d been kidding.

  Right?

  “Why are they staring at me?” I asked. Neither of us looked over but I could still feel the stares coming from two o’clock.

  “Leroy is Tristan’s friend,” Janice said, like that explained it all.

  I met her gaze evenly as we both tried not to look at the people who were staring. “Tell me honestly, Janice, am I going to be the victim of some Talmore High hazing ritual? Is this a thing they do with all the new girls?”

  She widened her eyes. “No! I mean, not that I’ve heard of.”

  I narrowed my eyes in response, suspicious even though if I had to guess, I’d say this girl was physically incapable of lying. Her cheeks would give her away, no doubt, and her eyes, which were wide and expressive. Right now, they expressed alarm at the thought of hazing.

  “So…what,” I said. “I’m just supposed to believe that the jocks of this school are all kindhearted knights in shining armor?”

  Her laugh was more of a snort and it was kind of adorable. “No, of course not.” She rolled her eyes. “We have more than our fair share o
f Neanderthal goons, believe me.”

  I did. I believed her. Idiotic and cruel seemed to go hand in hand with high schoolers.

  “I’m just saying, Tristan isn’t one of them,” she finished.

  She said it so simply, so honestly. I peered closer. She really believed that—but that could very well be her crush talking. No one wanted to think that her Prince Charming was actually a mean-spirited jerk.

  I had a million questions I wanted to ask her—I could admit I was curious. I wasn’t smitten like poor Janice here, but there was no denying the Thor-lookalike was intriguing. Whether he was friend or foe remained to be seen, but maybe that was what made him all the more interesting. I couldn’t get a good read on him, and that was rare. Most people were easy to peg. Too easy. While everyone liked to think they had depths and layers, most people were usually one-note melodies. If they looked like an airhead, talked like an airhead, and laughed like an airhead…odds were, their heads were filled with air.

  Walking down the hallways I could tell at a glance where most people landed—in the social hierarchy and as a person. Good, bad, wannabe, trying too hard, cruel, kind, doormat… Most of the students at Talmore might as well have been wearing plaques, that’s how obvious they were.

  But Tristan…I couldn’t figure out what type of person he was, although where he stood within the hierarchy was more than obvious. He was the king, the leader, the revered star. Even if he didn’t scream alpha athlete, I would have known from the gossip and the chatter. He was Talmore’s very own celebrity quarterback which put him at the tip-top precipice of the totem pole.

  So high up he shouldn’t be able to see those of us at the very bottom.

  Janice met my gaze steadily, like she knew I was just working up the nerve to bombard her with all the questions I had about the guy. Who was he? Who had he dated? Who were his friends? What did he do for fun? And most importantly, why was he so focused on me?

  But the bell rang before I got a chance and Janice and I both scrambled into action. I had to assume she, like me, could not wait for high school to be over. In the meantime, I’d settle for the little wins, like making it to the end of the day without incident or any terrifying run ins with a certain too-hot-for-his-own-good quarterback.

 

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