“You want me to come to your game?” she asked with a smirk on her face, eyebrows raised.
Her reaction made me unsure of my actions. Was it really a good idea to invite her to a game when our behavior had just returned to normal? I kept my cool, and sticking to my original invitation, I laughed and said, “Why not?”
She considered it for a moment. “Yeah…okay. Although I’m pretty sure you’re just milking me for a ride.”
Relief washed over me as she accepted. I shook my head as I hopped out of her car. “I wouldn’t do that to you, kid.”
I walked to class, my steps strangely lighter. Banners hung everywhere, announcing the game tomorrow, a big one for the team. I was jumpy and tense with suppressed excitement and trepidation as I practiced later that day. Energy coursed through my body, so I ran my laps, the muscles in my legs feeling good and stretched.
My coach called me over, and I jogged to him. “What’s up, coach?”
“Look, Blake. I got an email from a couple of your professors. You’re failing classes,” he informed me, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes full of concern.
My face was hot with embarrassment, and I looked down. “I’ll get them up, coach. I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “If your GPA is this low at midterm, I’ll have to pull you from the team. I don’t want to do that. You’re a good player. I want you on my team.”
I nodded, angry at myself for not working hard enough on schoolwork. I had been slacking, but I hadn’t realized how much. I plowed through practice, using my anger to fuel my body. I left feeling defeated, physically and mentally. I had to get my shit together. I gritted my teeth and got in the car, slamming the door.
Alyssa shot me a cold look as she started the car. “What is your problem?”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, too angry to give a proper apology.
“Yeah, whatever,” she snapped, throwing the car in drive and peeling out of the parking lot.
Halfway home, Alyssa got a call. She glanced down and pulled over to answer. After a minute, she hung up and told me, “That was Dad. We have to pick up groceries on the way home.”
Annoyed, I said, “Just drop me off at home first.”
Pulling back onto the road, she replied in a cold voice, “I’m not doing that; it’s a waste of time.”
I shot her another annoyed look and muttered, “Whatever.”
We pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket. I turned to Alyssa and said, “I’m just going to wait out here.”
Exasperated, she snapped, “No, you’re coming into the store to help me get the groceries.”
“No,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m staying in the car.”
Alyssa stared at me, her annoyance with my attitude evident on her face. In a steady, determined voice, she said, “Look, Dad told us to get groceries. You’re going to come in and help me whether you like it or not.”
I let out an angry sigh and got out of her car, slamming the door as hard as I could behind me. We walked around the store in silence, wrapped in resentment. Alyssa checked the list her father texted her and threw items angrily into the cart as I pushed it up and down the aisles. We checked out and carried the heavy bags to the car. She set her bags on the ground by her trunk while she unlocked and opened it. Putting her bags in, she motioned for me to give her mine. I thrust them belligerently into her arms, and one of the bags ripped, the contents spilling everywhere.
Alyssa let out a yelp as a glass jar of sauce dropped, breaking and splattering all over her. She looked up at me, as furious as I had ever seen her. “What is your problem?” she screamed at me, her face red and her hands clenched tightly into fists at her side.
“You’re my problem!” I yelled back at her.
Her eyes lit up with shock and hostility, and she pushed me roughly on my chest. I glared at her for moment, fighting the impulse to respond in kind, and gave in to the urge that raged behind my indignation. I grabbed her and kissed her roughly. She fought me for a moment but quickly responded, her lips just as demanding and feverish as mine. I pushed her against the car, pinning her arms to her side as I ripped my mouth from hers to press hot kisses along her jawline and down her neck.
She thrust her hips against mine and let out a hot, heady moan. “Fuck,” she whispered as I nibbled on her skin, my teeth grazing hungrily at her throat. I grabbed her waist, and she framed my face with her hands and kissed me eagerly, practically shoving her tongue in my mouth.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” I growled against her lips between angry, frustrated kisses. She shoved me away after a moment, and we stared at each other, breathing heavily.