I had no doubt of that promise.
Knuckles rapping against my bedroom door cut our conversation short. Seeing as the football player and I were the only one’s home, I heaved a tight breath before I bid Penny goodnight.
“Come in,” I said, and Trey entered my room.
“You still on the phone?” he asked.
“I was talking to Penny, but we’re done.”
He ran a hand through his shower-damp curls, standing at the foot of my bed. His eyes remained forward while a muscle in his jaw ticked.
“Are you doing alright there, buddy?” I asked, but he didn’t look at me. Instead, he grabbed the journal from my desk and sat on my bed. He flipped opened the book to a random page near the end, skimming his gaze over the written words.
“Have you read it all?” he asked.
I sat up, tucking my legs underneath me and reclinedmy back against the wall with the three picture frames above me.
“No. I left off on an entry from late middle school about a summer camp trip that went awry.”
He lit up and in one movement, flipped open the journal to the exact page of said entry.
“That’s one of my favorites. I would pay money to see little Mayhem get so annoyed with a camp counselor she graffitied a cabin wall with a Sharpie. I can’t believe the counselor punished you by making you scrub the wall with your toothbrush. That’s just too damn funny.”
His hair bounced with his laughter as he pointed to a specific place on the page. “And I quote,” he started, “I scrubbed that wall for almost two hours. I don’t understand why Counselor Katy, aka, the wicked witch of the west, has such a problem with me. But it was my responsibility to warn future campers that had the unfortunate luck to have her for a counselor with my artwork.”
His grin was wide when he looked at me.
“I’m surprised you didn’t get sent home for drawing a giant depiction of her as a witch, riding a broomstick across that wall.”
He turned to another spot in the book.
I shrugged. “She must’ve been a witch of a woman. How else did they know my drawing was about her? I didn’t say anything in there about labeling the artwork. Or I’m just that good of an artist.”
Trey snickered without looking at me. “You might have a point with her being a witch but do our eyes a favor and leave art alone.”
I scoffed. “Please, I can’t be that bad.”
He slid me a look. “We had art class Junior year together. Even your stick figures are abominations.”
His eyes fell back on the book. I scooted closer to him, reading the passage over his shoulder.
Dear Future Husband,
I’ve made it to high school!
I thought I’d try out for the volleyball team. Don’t get me wrong, basketball is my sport, but I thought I would take a hit at volleyball since they had an opening, and I didn’t have anything going on until the winter season when basketball starts.
So here I am.
Tomorrow is our first game of the season, but it’s out of town. Seven hours out of town, to be precise, and to make matters worse…
The school is making us share a bus with the football players!
I know, regular girls would be flipping out to be hanging out with the football players all day, but me, well…
It just means I have to be in the same enclosed space as my brother, his loud teammates, and all the guys I really like aren’t on the football team.
They’re all the nerdy, sweet boys.