First and Goal (Moving the Chains #1) (7 page)

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? I’m supposed to be an open book, but you keep all your secrets to yourself? Keep everyone guessing? That part of the new you? Because mysterious doesn’t really fit the mold of superstud quarterback.”

With no clue when it happened, we’re standing toe to toe. He towers over me as my neck cranes up to meet his eyes head-on. Sickening heat creeps up my neck at his proximity as my skin crackles under his electric gaze. The lack of anger in his expression, coupled with the seemingly relaxed state of his large body aren’t enough to put me at ease.

He breaks our staring contest first. “Oh, now you want me to talk to you? Open up to you? You want to know all my secrets, Evie? I might be able to take hits from guys three times your size on the field, but I refuse to be your doormat when all I’m trying to do is help you. So what’s it gonna be? What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you, Superjock. Never have and never will. But I guess we’re stuck together in some way or another this quarter, so let’s just agree to get through it with as little bloodshed as possible.” The tiny hint of guilt that pecks at my brain burns away easily enough with anger. “And stop calling me Evie.”

He narrows his eyes at me, pulling his lips in as if deep in thought over something. That seems unlikely unless it’s which phone number he’s planning to call for some quick service once we leave this torture chamber. All this fighting probably has him horny as hell.

Damn Mr. Smith. And damn Mrs. Anderson too. Damn everything so far this year.

“I can agree to those terms.” He works his jaw furiously as he stares down at me. “I gotta go down to the locker room and grab the rest of my stuff. See you tomorrow morning,
Eva
,” he emphasizes, finally catching onto the fact that I don’t want him calling me by my nickname.

“See you tomorrow,
Rob
,” I retort over my shoulder with a cool tone. I can’t get away from him soon enough. Maybe a long run in the heat will help clear my head. The wooded trail behind the high school is the only judgment-free zone I have for escape and peace.

He walks through the library alongside me and catches the eye of several other students that are seated at the desks. Surely the whole school will be talking about this by tomorrow if they’re not already placing bets on our bio partnership. I can kiss my hopes of not being added to his list of conquests goodbye, even if it is only in rumors.

I guess I should be used to those kinds of things by now, but I really, really can’t stand Rob Falls. Especially after his mouth today. Even if he is the best math teacher I’ve ever had. And mostly because whenever the old Rob peeks out, it makes it harder to hate him at all. And I need to hate him. I need to remember my game plan.

This first quarter can’t end soon enough.

S
weat pours off me, my lungs burn, and my heart’s about to tear out of my chest. It has very little to do with the mile I just ran in the heat. Staring up at the Papageorgiou residence from the sidewalk, I can’t remember what route I took to get here.

Is it creepy that I know where she lives? It’s probably creepy. I’m a creepy creeper.

Sure, our neighborhoods border each other. And yeah, I’ve driven past this house nearly every day since moving to Ironville as a toddler. But I never knew until sophomore year just how close she’d always been.

It’s an absolute mind fuck when I think about our lives never once intersecting before the first day of freshman year. How is it possible that I grew up practically a stone’s throw away from the girl who owns me, but never once laid eyes on her? Never heard her sweet voice laughing through her fenced-in back yard? Never played kickball or baseball together along with all the other kids?

The only thing that makes any sense is that I live in one of the upscale neighborhoods of town while she lives in the older section. I played with the kids on the wealthy side of Main Street, but she played with the kids on her side.

Our paths never crossed because we learned from an early age that like should stay with like.

Society is so fucked up.

The gray Victorian-style house sits well back from the main road that runs through town. A long, winding driveway disappears around the left side of the structure. That thing must be a bitch to shovel when it snows. The lawn is green, but kind of needs a mow. The landscaping isn’t fresh and obviously wasn’t done by professionals. These flowers were planted by hand. There’s something about it that’s just imperfect enough to look homey. Loved. Lived in. Not like the too-sterile, cookie-cutter McMansions in my subdivision. My eyes drink in this house that I’ve driven by a million times with a fresh perspective.

Okay, I’m stalling.

Attempting to swallow some moisture back into my dry mouth and regain control of my body before bounding up to the porch seems like a smart idea. It’s go time, but my feet remain planted firmly on the sidewalk no matter how much I will myself to move.

Come on, Falls. First and goal, and the game’s on the line. You can do this. You just gotta power through the pain.

I mentally rehearse the lines I came up with when I first hatched this plan. Walking up to the front door to ring the bell, I shuffle her notebook from one hand to the other. It’s starting to bend from my death grip on it.

I’m such an ass for going off on her in bio earlier. Playing the most awesomely patient math tutor possible seemed like a good way to make it up to her. She gets the calc now, yeah. She also still hates my guts. Hell, she’s not even happy that she understands the material. It was so obvious she’d have rather been in that study room with anyone but me.

A smarter man would give up and get out while the going’s good. Guess it’s lucky for once that I’m a persistent jock. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s move the chains against a tough opposition. It seems almost like she’s battling some kind of internal war over me. I have no idea what to make of that. The only thing I know for sure is that if she gives me even the slightest opening, then I’m gonna run however many yards it takes to reach my goal.

I inhale deeply, trying to find the courage I’ve been lacking all these years. The doorbell sounds in the house when I press the button with a shaking hand.

“I’ll get it!” Evie’s younger sister, Christina, yells from somewhere inside the house.

“Are you expecting someone?” Another female voice asks. The sound brings on another level of anxiety. That would be Evie’s mom.

If Evie’s stern-looking grandfather is home, I really will lose my nerve. I don’t have much of it to begin with. The more witnesses present to judge me, the worse this will be.

Yeah, I know everyone in her family by sight and sound. Epic stalker level unlocked.

“Oh my God!” Christina says excitedly.

“What? Who is it?”

“Rob Falls,” Christina answers, with clear astonishment in her voice.

I don’t want to be accosted by Evie’s little sister. Crap. I really didn’t think this plan through enough to figure Christina into the equation.

“He’s in Evie’s class, which makes him a senior. You are a sophomore. I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no. He’s probably here to talk to your sister,” their mom finishes.

Do they not fucking realize I can hear every word they’re saying right through the door?

Christina laughs. “As if he would be here to talk to boring, old Evie.”

The door opens wide when I ring the bell a second time. Now I’m just pissed off. Why would I be here to talk to anyone other than Evie? These damn girls are all the same with their assumptions.

“Hey Rob,” Christina greets seductively, her body language attempting to match her tone of voice.

I know Christina because she’s in Student Government with me. The only similarity between the Papageorgiou girls is their coloring. Dark hair, blue eyes, tan skin. That’s where it ends. Evie’s hair is a mass of thick curls that I want to run my fingers through and tug. Christina’s is boringly stick straight, like all the other girls at school. Evie’s always effortlessly gorgeous. Christina tries too hard. Evie has the most expressive eyes I’ve ever seen. Christina’s always seem to gleam with ulterior motives. Their personalities are polar opposites too. Evie is reserved, top of our class, and involved in tons of activities. Christina, on the other hand, is loud, outgoing, and boisterous. She’s involved in Student Government because of the popularity aspect of it and gets only average grades. She seems to have a new boyfriend every week. As far as I know, Evie’s only dated one guy. And that didn’t go so well.

“Hey, Christina,” I attempt to sound as casual as possible so she won’t get the wrong idea. “Is Evie home?”

Christina frowns at me and abandons her post at the doorway in favor of their mother. Ms. Papageorgiou looks me up and down like she’s judging me, and I’m coming up short.

“She isn’t home yet. The band must be practicing late. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, um, sure, Ms. Papageorgiou. It’s actually my fault she’s so late.” She eyes me with a concerned look, so I figure I’d better make with an explanation. “I’m, um, tutoring her in calculus after practice, and…” I hold up the notebook that this whole plan hinges on. “We got our notebooks mixed up, so I was just returning hers and hoping to get mine back to do homework tonight.”

“Why does Evie need you to tutor her in calculus?”

Shit. Me and my big mouth. Of course she wouldn’t have told her mom she’s having trouble. “She just um, asked me for some extra help. No big deal.”

“You’re more than welcome to come in and cool off while you wait for her.” She holds the door open wider for me. “Did you run here?”

“Oh,” I can’t stop the dumb laughter that comes out of my stupid mouth. “No, not specifically here. I have to do a certain amount of conditioning every day for football. I just figured I’d drop this off and get my own notebook since I was out, anyway.”

I really need to break this sudden bad habit of talking too much when I’m nervous. Kind of like going off on Evie today. Maybe I should go back to being quiet after all.

“Oh. Come on in and wait for her then,” she calls over her shoulder.

Walking into Evie’s house under this pretense sucks. I would’ve been excited as hell to be here under any other circumstances. Now Christina’s eyeing me like a piece of meat, Ms. Papageorgiou seems suspicious of me, and Evie hates me. I’m in way over my head, but it’s too late to back out. Unsure how welcome my presence might be in the living room, I close the door behind me and look around in the foyer.

There are several pictures hanging on the walls of the entrance, depicting the Virgin and Child and some Saints that I don’t know. Growing up Catholic, I’ve never seen anything like them. There are letters on the pictures that I recognize as being Greek, but I only know what the symbols mean in science and math. I can’t read them to find out which Saints they are.

“They’re icons,” Christina laughs. “Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

“Uh, no…actually.” I hadn’t realized I’d been looking at them so intently. “They’re beautiful.”

Christina shrugs, probably unappreciative of what she’s used to seeing. “You can actually come in and sit down, you know. Can I get you a drink of water? You seem very overheated.” She’s clearly trying to flirt with me, bringing my nauseated feeling to a whole new level.