Trey’s face quirked sideways at me. “Are you jealous, Mayhem?”
Oh, honey. Wrong time, wrong Mayhem.
“No.” I pulled my hand from his and folded my arms across my front. “Not jealous. Just confused.”
His brows furrowed. “Confused about what?”
He turned so only his shoulder leaned against the truck, facing me fully. It was difficult to stay focused with him all pretty in his jersey like this, which just seemed to bother me more.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Turner. I’m not in the mood.”
I pasted my back against the truck, my focus forward, with Trey in my peripheral.
“May, Juliette means nothing to me. I promise.”
When I didn’t respond, he lifted from the side of the truck to stand in front of me. I turned my gaze toward my feet, but he caught my chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“I promise,” he said again.
I didn’t trust myself to open my mouth and say the right things, so I only managed a sorry half nod.
“Come here,” he said, bringing me against him. I obeyed, allowing myself to be engulfed in his warm embrace.
“Maybelle!”
Trey didn’t let go of me as he peered back over his shoulder to see Penny trotting up to where we stood.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt you two, but you boys need to get going and us girls need to get some good seats,” she said as she tossed a red lock of hair over her shoulder.
Trey pulled back from me to give Penny a hug.
“Good to see you Penn. Take care of my Maybelle for me, please.” He winked at me, then joined the parade of blue and gold football players on their way to the locker rooms while Penny led me into the stadium to what she called “the best seats in the house”. Right down the middle of the bleachers and directly behind the boys standing on the sidelines.
Penny talked through the whole first half of the game,telling me all about her good friend Daniel, whom I would have the privilege of meeting near the third quarter. She spoke about how she did cheer but quit recently. How she didn’t know what to do with her education and touched on her rocky relationship with her mom.
I listened, bobbing my head now and then to show I was listening. Then I had the worst thought cross my mind as I heard everything Penny had to say.
In one conversation, I knew more about Penelope Elizabeth Howell than I knew about Trey Turner—or myself, for that matter.
After halftime, she leaned over to me. “Are you thinking about coming to school here?”
I tied my fluff of curls into a knot on the top of my head. “I don’t know if I can. I got accepted before the accident, but I don’t know where I would live or how I would make it work.”
I winced as I watched Bear lay waste to a small lineman that was poorly paired against him on the line.
“Girl, live with me.”
I got whiplash from how fast my head spun to look and make sure I wasn’t being punked, but there, Penny sat, that big smile plastered to her lips.
She must’ve seen the disbelief etched into my face, because she said, “I’m serious. We have two other girls in the apartment that keep to themselves, but we have an opening in my room. You could totally live with me. I could even get you a job with me at the coffee shop I manage. Come on, it would be perfect!”
Again, the plot thickens.
“I appreciate that. Maybe I could get your number? Keep in touch about it?” I asked, suddenly overwhelmed with the possibilities.
Penny was gleaming as she pulled her phone out.
We exchanged numbers, and the night suddenly seemed so much better.
