Wicked Hunger

Wicked Hunger Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Indestructible

My unconditional promise to answer Ivy’s questions has weighed on me all week, even more than my promise to Van. Not because I fear what Van will ask me to do any more than I fear answering Ivy’s questions, but because I know Van won’t call hers in any time soon. She’s too fixated on Ivy right now. Shocked as Ivy was when Van apologized to her for blowing up in her face, I expected it. When Van gives her word on something, she means it. It’s not always a good quality. Like with her investigating Ivy.

Van must make a pretty good sleuth, because Ivy hasn’t mentioned anything unusual happening with her lately. My sneaky little sister has been nice as can be to her all week. It’s killing her hunger to do it, too. Maybe I should have some sympathy for her struggle, but I don’t. She could always just leave Ivy alone and give up on the ridiculous belief that she’s hiding something. We’ve met in her homeroom twice and talked on the phone several times. She even met me after practice yesterday, and not once have I seen, heard, or felt anything suspicious from her. Unless you count her love of pistachio ice cream. That’s definitely suspicious.

A hand slaps against my shoulder pads, knocking away thoughts of Ivy. “You ready for this?” Samuel asks.

“Yeah, I guess. Los Lunas doesn’t have a very strong offense.”

Samuel shakes his head at me. “How do you stay so calm before a game? I feel like my skin is about to jump off my body. I can’t remember any of the plays, and I feel like I’m going to hurl.”

“You’ll be fine,” I say.

“Seriously, how do you do it?”

I shrug. He scowls at me as he bounces nervously on his toes.

“The pressure just doesn’t bother me,” I say. It’s true, but not in the way Samuel thinks. Pressure definitely bothers me when I sit down for a test. When I get out on the field, though, what do I have to worry about? No one is going to hurt me. No one is going to get past me. I have complete control over my portion of the field. Even knowing the college scouts are going to be watching tonight, I know I’ll impress them.

“I wish it didn’t bother me,” Samuel says. “You may not care what girls think about you, but I do. If I suck out there tonight, my chances of getting Kaleigh Adams to go out with me shrink to nil.”

The sudden desire to tell Samuel that I do care about what at least one girl thinks of me burns under my skin. Maybe I let what Van said get to me more than I thought. Instead, all I say is, “Kaleigh will go out with you either way, Samuel. Just ask her.”

“You think?”

I nod, but anything else I might have said is cut off by the coach calling us to the huddle. He isn’t one for speeches or sappy motivational encouragement, so he keeps it short with a promise that if we don’t play our best he’ll make us run laps until we’re all puking next practice. It doesn’t sound like it would get a bunch of teenage football players excited, but everyone piles out of the locker room on a serious adrenaline high. I jog along behind them, wondering whether or not I’ll be able to see Ivy from the field.

I don’t see her anywhere in the throng of hyped up spectators, but I know she’s out there somewhere with Van. What I do see are two men dressed in slacks and polos carrying clipboards in one hand and cell phones in the other. Their eyes scan the line of players exiting the locker room hungrily. Finally, my pace picks up and excitement starts to creep into my veins when they see me. My mouth splits into a grin. It’s going to be a race to see who can reach me after the game first, Van and Ivy, or the scouts.