Oz walks off without waiting for my response and I expect the two of them to head over to the two girls circling near us like the little vultures they are. He talked to them during halftime and I’m going to pretend that every single second of those five minutes didn’t bother me.
I roll the football, trying to figure out why he gave it to me and why he asked me to stay. Eli raises an eyebrow and it’s freaky because I did, too. I force mine down, wondering if Eli noticed. Eli excuses himself to discuss plans with someone in the parking lot.
“Hey!” Violet’s red hair is pulled up and little wisps frame her face.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“You see that?” She points to a guy on the football field across from ours. He’s tall, has blond hair, is broad-shouldered and, after hanging out with the Terror for the past week, appears very, very normal.
“Yeah?”
“That’s Jared and he’s going to be my ride tonight.” The way she emphasized ride makes my cheeks blush. “Have you considered my offer? Jared has a friend.”
She waggles her eyebrows at friend and I have to clear my throat so I can breathe.
Violet and I talk on the phone. She digs for info on my life in Florida and fills me in on her adventures in Snowflake, which includes a lot of parties with a lot of people who sound a million times more dangerous than anything I’ve experienced while being at Olivia’s.
“I’m telling you, if you go to bed early, I bet you could slip out through the kitchen and hang with me for the night and then I’ll have you back before anyone notices.”
She wants me to go to a party with her and, well...lying isn’t my style. I texted Eli for permission to go and I was greeted with a firm: hell, no.
“Why don’t you come to Olivia’s and hang out?” I ask.
“They’re getting to you, aren’t they?”
A pshaw sound leaves my mouth because they so aren’t, but then my eyes automatically trail over to Oz and he’s speaking to them. Oh my freaking God, he’s speaking to those girls again.
“Emily!” Violet slips into my line of vision. “What did I tell you? They are pretty looking, but they’re full of hurt.”
I sweep my hair away from my forehead and try not to let it bother me that the girl with the overly large chest touched Oz’s arm. “What happened between you and Chevy?”
A shadow crosses her face. “The club is what happened to Chevy and the club is what’s happening to Oz. They can act nice and sweet, but they’re dogs. Mark my words on this.”
My stomach bottoms out. “Did he cheat on you?”
“Yeah,” she says. “But not in the way that you think. He said he loved me and then...when it counted he didn’t love me.”
Violet presses a hand to her stomach in a way that causes me to take her other hand. She’s in pain and I wish I could remove the part that aches.
“Violet?” The soft way Chevy said her name startles me more than his sudden appearance. “Are you okay?”
Her blue eyes snap to his and there’s no mistaking the absolute sadness there. They stare at each other. One second. Two. As we wander into three I feel like an intruder in a very intimate yet electrically charged moment.
“Violet!” Jared cups his hands to his mouth to get her attention. “Let’s go.”
Chevy’s eyes briefly close and when he reopens him, the breath is knocked out of me by the hurt haunting him. “Don’t do it. I am begging you to not do this.”
Violet’s spine straightens as she lifts her chin. “Just like I asked you not to do what you did.”
She walks away, slamming her shoulder into his arm, and Chevy remains still, focusing on the ground as if nothing else around him exists.
Oz swipes the football I had forgotten I held and presses it to Chevy’s chest. “Everything’s in order. Why don’t you go and get the kids together.”
It takes a few seconds, but Chevy accepts the ball and heads onto the field.
“That was comfortable,” I say.
“You get to leave Snowflake.” Oz watches his best friend, my cousin, round up some kids. “I get to live with it for the rest of my life.”
“Super.” Because what else do you say? “I stayed, so what do you need?”
“Well.” He studies me in a way that makes me feel like he’s seen me with my clothes off. “I have a boy in a wheelchair who asked if he gets a kiss on the cheek from the prettiest girl here since he scored a touchdown.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Did the two girls drooling over you refuse?”
Oz cracks this smile that makes me love and hate him. “I said pretty, Emily. You’re the only girl around here who fits that description. Are you in or what?”
“Yeah,” I say, as I secretly dance within. “I’m in.”
Oz