“I suppose I should do the right thing and get you to class on time?”
“It would probably be a good idea,” Nicole agreed.
I picked the ball up and tucked it under my arm. I reached out, took Nicole’s hand in mine, and we walked to the building with our arms swinging between us. There were other kids arriving in the parking lot, and lots of them already inside the school. I barely saw them because my eyes were on my Rumple.
I looked down at our clasped hands as Shakespeare rattled through my brain—“now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.”
I wished I would never have to let go.
The game was great.
Well, as far as I know. I really hadn’t paid much attention.
My attention was otherwise focused on the beautiful, blue-eyed girl in the stands, watching me.
Waiting for me.
The final whistle blew, and I did the usual shaking hands with the other team before walking off to the locker rooms. I looked up at Nicole in the stands, smiling and waving at me, and felt my pulse rate increase.
“Going out to the beach?” Jeremy asked.
“Nah,” I said. “Got other plans.”
“Oh, really?” He elbowed me in the gut, and I smacked his dark, curly head. “I think Rachel and I are going out there for a bit, but then we’re heading off for a little more privacy.”
Jeremy waggled his eyebrows, and they looked like two fuzzy caterpillars trying to make cocoons on his forehead. I shook my head at him but couldn’t stop my own smile.
“Yeah,” he snickered, “I thought so.”
“Fuck you!”
“Pussy!”
“Pussies can take a pounding!” I shot back.
We laughed, stripped, and showered before heading out to where our girls were waiting for us. Nicole said goodbye to Rachel and took my hand. The car ride was quiet, and Nicole was chewing on her lip as she stared out the window. I reached over and placed my hand on top of her thigh.
“We don’t have to do shit,” I told her. “If you changed your mind or something…it’s okay. We could order pizza or something and watch TV.”
Nicole looked over at me sideways, and her mouth turned up in a smile.
“Thanks,” she said softly. “I think I’m just…a little nervous. The last time…”
I shushed her.
“Don’t think about it,” I said. “Just play it by ear, right? Whatever happens, happens.”
“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” she said. “I could tell how distracted you were on the field. I thought a couple of shots were going to get past you.”
Ditch her before she becomes a distraction.
“I wasn’t,” I lied, “and I didn’t let anything by.”
“That one at the end was close,” she said. “You should have had it solid, but it ended up with them getting a corner.”
“I punched it over—no problem,” I argued.
“You should have had it in your hand,” she retorted.