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  “Ugh! What about my friends?” This is my senior year. I thought this was the year I got to take it easy and enjoy myself. I’ve busted my ass for the last three years, and now I have to play teacher.

  “You’ll have plenty of time for your friends if you don’t tutor her, considering you won’t be playing. You can kiss those scholarships and scouts goodbye. Then what are you going to tell your mother?”

  Those scouts and scholarships are my only way out of this town. “Fine! I’ll do it, but I won’t like it.”

  “I never said you had to enjoy it. There’s no practice Monday, so you can start then. I’ll let her know to expect you in the library after school.”

  Taking up my backpack, I storm out of Coach’s office. I threw the door wide open with enough force to put a hole in the wall had it not been cinderblock. I need those scholarships. Without them, my mom would never be able to send me to the college I’m desperate for: Southern Mississippi.

  Chapter Three

  It’s Saturday evening. My homework’s done, chores are finished, and I even managed to spend some extra time on my algebra trying to get ready for my tutoring session on Monday.

  I have a list made up with questions and examples of things I don’t understand; looking over my flashcards, Olivia’s words ring loud and clear in my mind. I really am one of those studies all the time students, but I need scholarships if I’m going to be able to afford my dream school.

  It just doesn’t seem fair my parents should shoulder the responsibility of my college education; they’ve been through enough, and soon they’ll both be retiring. They have plans to travel the world together, and I don’t want my school to get in the way.

  A hard knock on my door pulls me away from solving for x as Mom sticks her head in, a big dopey grin on her face. “Any big plans for tonight?”

  “Nope. I thought I would help you and Gramps outside a little more. I know there is a large party checking in tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be silly, sweetheart. We have everything done. Go out and have some fun. Make some new friends.”

  “I hear the bowling alley is the place to be on Saturday nights.” Gramps opens the door wider, coming in to sit on my bed as I close my textbooks. “From what Bill tells me, all the cool kids hang out there.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I can’t help but laugh. I love the old man more than he probably knows. “Come on. I’ll let you drive Ole Blue.”

  My eyes go wide at the prospect of driving the 1957 Chevy pickup truck. Gramps has spent years restoring it to its original beauty. The truck’s painted a deep royal blue with a stark white grill guard and bumpers. It has polished chrome door handles and a buttery, soft camel tan leather interior. He let me help him reupholster the seats one summer, and ever since then, I’ve loved refurbishing antique pieces.

  “But you don’t let anyone drive her! Not even Gram has been behind the wheel.” He bumps my shoulder with his. “Let me tell you a little secret,” his voice drops to merely a whisper, “you’re my favorite.” He chuckles, pushes up off the bed, making his way over to Gram, who is now standing next to Mom.

  “You know you would be lost without me old man,” she says as she pats his chest.

  He places a delicate kiss on her head. I can't help but smile, watching my grandparents’ interaction. They have been married for forty-five years and still look at each other as though they were newlyweds. I hope one day to be as lucky.

  “Besides, I know all the fellas will die when they see you pull up in this.” I roll my eyes and try to stifle the laugh rising in me.

  “Great! Now even my grandpa is trying to pimp me out.” Rolling off of the bed, I let out a deep-seated sigh, “Fine. I guess I’ll go. A girl from choir told me about it and said she would be there.”

  Mom smiles, “Oh, good. So you’re making friends at school then. Remember to be back—”

  “By eleven. Yea, yea. I know the routine.”

  “Well, I was gonna say by eleven-thirty smarty pants. Now get out of this house and have some fun.”

  I quickly change out of my pajamas and throw on a pair of leggings, a loose grey T-shirt and distressed denim jacket, a pink baseball cap, and white tennis shoes complete my look. I’m not looking to impress anyone but maybe make a few friends. My hair has its natural wave to it since I let it air dry after my shower earlier, and some light pink lip gloss helps to add a little color to my face. I climb behind the wheel of Ole Blue and wave goodbye as I make my way into town.

  *****

  “I still can't believe Coach is making me tutor some sophomore this semester. He said it was either tutor or be benched in the spring.”

  “Hey, look at it this way, dude, maybe it’ll be a hottie, and you’ll finally score a home run with her. You never know. It could all be worth it.” Marcus waggles his eyebrows when he says home run, but it shouldn’t surprise me, his mind is always in the gutter.

  “Dude! Can you keep your mind off sex for like ten seconds?”

  “Nope! Why do you think I’ve got different girls at different schools?”

  I roll my eyes at him, but before I can respond to him, Olivia lets out an ear-shattering squeak and runs over to some girl in a pink baseball cap. She gives her a quick hug and then pulls her over to our group, making the introductions for everyone.

  “Guys, I want to introduce you to Presley Donovan. Presley, this is everyone worth knowing at school. There’s Trey, Marcus, Brice, and Heather. Trey and Brice play baseball, and Marcus is the quarterback. Heather is a cheerleader.”

  Olivia leans into Presley, whispers something in her ear, causing her to giggle, and once again, I’m suddenly infatuated with her. She looks around at everyone and gives a shy wave.

  “Hi there.”

  Heather speaks up in her natural snotty tone, “Hey, you’re the quiet new girl, right?”

  Presley squares up her shoulders, quickly putting Heather in her place. I know from experience she’s got some attitude in her, but she comes across in a quiet and unsuspecting way. “I’ve never really been described as quiet, but yea, I’m the new girl.”

  The guys cock their heads, eyes wide, and look at me in awe. I’m glad to see Heather has probably met her match.

  “So, where are you from? Your parents must really hate you if they moved your right before your senior year?” Trey chuckles, but Presley doesn’t look phased.

  “I’m kinda from all over. My dad’s Army, so I’m used to moving around. He’s stationed overseas right now, which is why I’m here. My mom wanted to be closer to my grandparents. They own the dude ranch outside of town.”

  “Circle K?” I ask in shock.

  “Yea. Do you know it?”

  “I didn’t know they had a granddaughter.”

  “Do you know them?” She arches a brow at me.

  “I’ve helped out there from time to time. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  She lets a small smile escape from her lips before responding, “Maybe.”

  “Alright!” Marcus chimed in, “so let’s get this game going. What do you say…guys versus girls? We have even numbers now.”

  Everyone agrees, and the game gets underway. People seem to be having fun, laughter, and jokes come easy, but I can't keep my attention away from Presley for more than a couple of seconds. Something about her looks familiar, it’s not just because I ran into her multiple times at school, but there’s something else, something in her eyes pulls at the deepest darkest corners of my memory. Her constant glances in my direction caused me to wonder if this feeling is mutual.

  When the game finishes, Trey begins counting heads for dinner. His starvation cries fill our ears, and the girls seek refuge in the restroom. Olivia enacts girl code, and the three of them disappear behind the closed door with a stick figure of a woman on the front.

  “We’ll wait for you outside,” Trey calls behind them before the three of us make our way outside. Instantly we’re paralyzed, frozen in our tracks, and stunned into silence as our eyes cascad
e over God’s gift to all of mankind, a 1957 Chevrolet 3100 classic pickup truck.

  *****

  Tonight turned out better than I expected. Olivia is fun, and Trey is the comic relief of the group. But Brice holds my attention, and from the looks Olivia has given me throughout the night, I’m sure she thinks there’s more to us than what meets the eye. She doesn’t believe me when I tell her I’m not looking to get involved with anyone this year. I don’t want to feel tied down at the end of the school year; it’ll only make leaving that much harder if I should find someone and things work out between us.

  “Has Brice lived here all his life?” I ask.

  Heather looks at me through the mirror; a scowl consumes her face, “No. He moved here at the end of fifth grade or something. It’s only him and his mom, I think. You don’t have a thing for him, do you?” she quickly asks as she turns around to face me.

  Caught off guard at what she’s insinuating, I stumble through my response; I don’t want to make waves even though the likelihood of remaining friends after graduation is slim.

  “No. He just looks familiar.”

  Olivia tries to ease the tension as she chimes in, “Well, maybe he has one of those faces. I mean, you have moved around a lot. Like a lot a lot.”

  I shrug it off and keep my thoughts to myself.

  “Brice Harte is mine,” Heather declares very matter of factly as she once again attempts to put me in my rightful place.

  “Don’t worry, Heather. I’m not looking for anything with anyone. I’m gone right after graduation, and a relationship would complicate things. I don’t do complicated.” Thankfully she accepts my response as her shoulders relax, and the tension dissipates from the room.

  Olivia chimes in, “Relax, Heather. See, Presley isn’t into Brice. He’ll eventually come around again. Besides, you two are practically high school royalty, head cheerleader and captain of the baseball team.”

  Holding in a silent chuckle, I can't help but think what a cliché it all is.

  Walking outside of the bowling alley, I’m again stopped by the ever-present brick wall that seems to have found a permanent spot in my existence. Heather is knocked backward and stumbles on the curb, falling on her tail bone as she yells at Marcus for being an oomph. “Did you morons forget how to use your legs?”

  “No. We’re unworthy of walking on the same ground as that,” he points to Ole Blue and Heather scoffs as she questions the presence of the old truck.

  “It’s not just an old truck, Heather. It’s perfection in the highest form; she’s got style, she’s got grace.”

  “Oh, whoa, whoa, she’s a lady,” Olivia belts out and begins to laugh uncontrollably. “Trey, what did I tell you about watching Miss Congeniality without me?”

  He rolls his eyes at her and yells back, “It was one time, Liv. One time and you’ve never let me live it down.”

  “Whatever, let’s go. All Trey’s talk about food has me starving. Presley, are you coming with us?”

  Brice looks back at me with hopeful eyes, and I give a little shake of my head before heading over to Ole Blue.

  “Not tonight. I’ve gotta get this ole boy home.” As I place my hand on the handle and gently pry open the door, the three of them start whooping loudly; my cheeks feel as if they were consumed with fire.

  “There’s no way you’re driving that thing. Can I have a ride?” Trey pleads like a little puppy while Marcus follows with a ‘damn girl’ and a compliment in which he called me sexy. He’s not my type, but still, it’s nice to be flattered.

  However, it’s Brice’s call out, which sends my heart into a flutter as he stalks towards me. “There’s no way old man Keller let you drive that.”

  I smile back and contemplate stringing them along as I climb inside and put the key in the ignition. He’s standing next to my door, his hand gripping the frame and his eyes boring deep into mine.

  “He doesn’t even let his wife drive this, and they’ve been together forever.”

  “He would if he wanted his granddaughter to impress a couple of guys,” I say in a whisper. All I can do is smile back at him as I pull the door closed and he backs away from the truck. “He lets me because I’m his favorite.”

  I turn the ignition, and the engine purrs to life before I put it in gear and pull out of my parking spot. Stunned faces fill my rearview mirror, and I can't help but think maybe senior year won’t be so bad after all.

  Chapter Four

  It’s Monday afternoon and I stroll into the library a couple minutes late for my tutoring session. The center tables are empty; maybe whoever it was, decided against getting help; a wave of relief washes over me. Coach can't bench me if it’s not my fault. I turn to leave when I see Presley tucked away in a corner at a private table, calculator, paper, pencil, and what looks like an Algebra 2 textbook all laid out in front of her.

  I thought I was tutoring a sophomore, not a senior. Granted, Coach didn’t tell me who it was, but I figured since it was a low-level class, the student would match the class. Glasses. Why did she have to wear glasses?

  Sure, it seems like a strange attraction, but there was something about them that triggered a reaction from me, and on her, shhhit, she was a fucking temptress.

  They framed her green eyes, and I felt myself beginning to get excited. Her boldness, the tension from the other night, and now fucking glasses of all things, have me looking for anything to distract myself from the boner threatening to tent my pants. I let out a quiet exhalation and slowly turn away to escape the scene before me.

  “Brice?” The way my name rolled off her tongue was like butter.

  “Hey, Presley. Didn’t see you there.” I lie and look around the empty library.

  “Brice, are you my tutor?” Direct and to the point, nice. Maybe she’s the kind of girl who doesn’t play games.

  “It depends; do you need help in algebra?”

  She lets out a sigh of relief, a smile illuminating her face as the corners of her lips turn up.

  “Oh my God, yes! If I don’t get a B in this class, my GPA is going to crash. I have to keep my 4.3 GPA, Brice.”

  4.3? Does the scale go that high? I thought it stopped at a 4.0. “Presley, if you have a 4.3 GPA, why do you need help? It looks like you’ve got this.”

  Disappointment quickly rushes over her face, as she hides behind a set of flashcards in front of her. “Promise not to laugh?”

  I nod and sit down across the table from her.

  “I’ve got every subject, but this.” She motions to the mess of papers and textbook in front of her. “I’m TERRIBLE at math. It’s never made sense to me, and I’m almost positive my father’s grey hairs are from him trying to help me understand why two plus two did not equal cow.” She laughs hesitantly, and I’m equally confused.

  “Presley, you know that’s not possible, right?”

  “Yea, well, in my brain, it is.” She lays her forehead against her folded arms resting on the table before peering up for a second and batting her eyelashes at me.

  Shit, I’m done for. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

  “Really?” Excitement explodes across her face, her eyes go round as moons while the corners of her mouth turn up, revealing beautiful pearly whites.

  I nod my head and flip her book to the very beginning pages to review everything from Algebra 1.

  The hour passes, and to my surprise, I’m not itching to leave. I help her clean up the table, watch her put each item away in a specific place in her backpack before heading to the exit. “You know you’re not as clueless as you think you are.”

  A sarcastic huff precedes her thanks, “I’m sure you weren’t thrilled when you found out you had to tutor some kid, but I really do appreciate it.”

  “It’s fine, Presley.”

  Presley, her name rolls off my lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  “Coach said you wanted to meet three times a week?”

  “Yeah, if it’s okay with you.
I know you have practice and whatnot, and I don’t want to cause any issues between you and Heather; so if three times is too much, we can cut it back.”

  I stop walking, gripping her arm before turning her towards me. “Presley, there is no me and Heather.” There it is again, her name and my desire to say it every chance I get.

  “She said y’all were together.”

  I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. The woman doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

  “Presley, I want to make something very clear to you. Heather and I are definitely not together. We dated briefly, but I couldn’t see it going anywhere, so I ended the relationship before it even had a chance to get going. She’d been trying for the last two years to turn our friendship into something more, so I gave it a shot, but I don’t see her as any more than a friend, and I’m generous even calling her a friend.”

  A minuscule smile appears and then disappears as quickly as it came, knowing I caused her a 33 of happiness does something to me.

  “Why don’t we meet Monday’s here in the library, I have practice on Wednesday’s so we will need to meet afterward somewhere. I know Mr. Jameson does his test on Fridays, so how about Thursdays back in the library?” She nods, and begins to head for the exit door, stopping midway through it, the sun shining through the open door and illuminating her silhouette.

  “Thanks, Brice,” she says before the hard clang of metal hitting metal echoes through the empty halls.

  I make my way through the halls down to Coach’s office, the nagging feeling of familiarity tugs at my insides as I try to place from where I know her. I laugh to myself at her joke about two plus two equaling cow example, a Cheshire grin plastered on my face. I know there’s no hiding it, and so I own it as best I can.

  Coach raises a brow at me as I sit down in his office. Behind his desk, he leans back in his chair, arms folded in amusement. Coach has been like a father to me for the last four years. “I take it everything went well?”