I Hate Football Players

27: This Stinks

"Don't treat her like the others." Her voice was quiet, determined, and struck a nerve of guilt in me. "The ones who sent pictures."

I swallowed hard and shifted my gaze away from the concern in hers. "Mom-"

Her hand squeezed tighter. "A girl like Eleanor needs honesty." Her words lifted my eyes to her direct stare. "No fronts, no games. If you like her as a potential girlfriend then say it to her."

Mom's smile spread wider until it creased into her cheeks, but none of her answers helped. And now she was delusional. Ellie as a girlfriend? Unless it was...

That could work. I planned to take Ellie out once, reject her, and ruin Harrison's game six. I hadn't considered torturing Jake for the season. On the other hand, apathy tugged my brain into dropping the whole effort. The gut-discomfort sensation returned and twisted my stomach. "It's not what you think," was all I mumbled at the hope beaming in Mom's eyes. "I don't like her like that. We ran into each other before school started, and she was nice to Brody. She's just some girl."

"Hmm," was all she hummed. "How many other 'just some girls' were nice to your family?"

"Point taken," I grumbled and headed to my room.

Despite my best efforts, I thought about Ellie a lot the next day. And the next, and the next. A week passed, during which the harder I tried, the more I thought about her. She slipped in and out of my mind and I wondered everything from if she felt okay after getting upset to random, stupid shit, like how her classes went and how she would respond to certain conversations I overheard.

More than anything, I wanted to know what 'it's bad' meant. Subjective statement with infinite possibilities.

Her snarky insults were better than any of the pointless conversations I overheard, like how I matched up against Scotts Valley's quarterback, how hot I looked in a blue or red shirt, or whose nail polish chipped. I needed to talk to her, but I wanted to give her space, so I didn't. But I wanted to know if she was okay. And how bad was bad?

This was giving me a headache. I left my phone in my locker during class. Texts from Brody before lunch on Friday snapped me out of my distracted thoughts.

Brody: She's at the Santa Cruz Animal Shelter, tomorrow @6pm.
Brody: You should talk to her.

I heaved a sigh. Scooping dirty cat litter and washing smelly dogs screamed the worst opportunity to ask her in-depth, personal questions. A quick look through our text history showed that while Ellie always replied, she'd never once initiated a conversation with me.

Maybe she was embarrassed about opening up. I should text her. My thumb hovered over her name. No, I should leave her alone. I put my phone in my pocket. Then I pulled it out again. This was pissing me off.

"Logan, you cool?" I ignored Josh's question but looked up to the lunch table staring at my silent arm wrestling with my phone. "You look like you're losing it."

"Yeah," I grumbled more at my screen than Josh.

"You gonna eat that?" Bryce pointed at my full food tray. Silently, I pushed it over to him and rolled my eyes when he dug in like he hadn't eaten his lunch.

I stared at my phone. What would I even tell her? I was thinking about her and hoped she had a good week? Lame as fuck. Sorry I made you cry? Crash and burn.

Thankfully, a one-sided game Friday night, Mason's recovery workout, and a crash into a nap closed the time gap between when I saw Ellie in person. And I arrived with no fucking clue what to say to her. "I'm losing it."

On the outside, the Santa Cruz Animal Shelter looked like a prison. The exterior was covered with vertical white siding, and two large windows on either side of the door had black vertical bars over them. I stood like a dumbass outside and stared at my reflection in the glass front door.