Get The Girl ✓

09 | another player in the game

     Talking to Trey Gonzalez, I conclude, is like talking to the world.

     We near the centre of the football field when I spot them. A group of tall, built guys wearing school jerseys, heading our way. I'm not near enough to spot their faces but I can hear their faint laughter and conversing.

    "Let's walk by the tracks," I suggest, already moving sideways.

    "No." He literally tugs at my sleeve and pulls me back beside him. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a bunch of brainless jocks."

    "No," I bluff, lying. "They just look like trouble."

    "From what I hear, you seem to like trouble."

     I scoff. Did I ask for all the problems to happen to me as I participated in almost every high school event possible? No. People sneering, making fun of me, and hating me for no reason? No. Trouble just seems to find me.

     We still end up walking straight towards them and the jocks — are they still considered jocks if they're not football players? — aren't moving away, either. I try to channel Trey's confidence in me. They're nothing to worry about. But I wonder what we look like to them. If one of them comments... no. 

     Do not worry.

     But when we're closer than ever, I finally recognise one face. Messy blonde hair, bright green eyes, a permanent scowl — Jude Reynolds is leading the freakin' pack.

     One guy looks at us, noticing our presence. He instantly smirks.

     Do not —

    "One of your girls, Trey?" he quips.

    "She's a girl, yes, as you can see," Trey replies immediately. "But if you're referring to this fictional group of girls that you think I own, then no, she's not a part of it. If you want to hook up with one of these assumed girls, however — theoretically — I could ask nicely and they'll be happy to abide my favours."

     The brown-haired guy just stares at him, no response. I'm thinking — hoping — this conversation is finished, but he spats, "You're so fucking full of yourself, Gonzalez."

    "I'd prefer the term honest," he says, unfaltering. "We all know that in a sense, I'm one of Dalton High's most valuable assets. And from our little circle here I have more sway than all of you combined."

     It takes time to like Trey. It really does. 

     One moment he's charming as ever, and then there's moments like these where you want to snap his head off. But it sort of becomes easier to handle once you get used to him.

     Here's the catastrophe: they're not.

    "Who do you think you are?" The brown-haired guy bristles.

    "Trey Ramiro Gonzalez. Straight-A student, five foot eleven, a Model United Nations member, fluent in Spanish, the occasional ladies' man." He pauses. "Everyone knows that already. So the question here is who are you?"

    "The guy that's going to fucking punch you in the — "

    "Finn, knock it off," Jude warns, but his tone isn't friendly either. He gives a seething look at Trey, whose smile falters. He knows he's the brother of his potential girlfriend. Jude then proceeds to look straight at me and suddenly asks, "Can I talk to you?"

     I gulp. "Sure."

     All the other guys are quiet. In this moment, he really did resemble the alpha of a wolf pack.