The Playmaker (A Big Play Novel Book 1) Read Free Page B

give it a go.”
    Amy winces again, this time adding a hiss.
    I roll my eyes. “You know how every cloud has a silver lining?”
    She shakes her head.
    “Well, mine do.” I flick my hand in the air. “So, my colossal mishap in the cafeteria sparked a new idea, and I have come up with a whole new set of plays.”
    “This is going to be bad, isn’t it?” Amy’s wince morphs into a cringe that wrinkles her forehead.
    I ignore her skepticism and try to banish my nerves by standing as tall as I can and going over the sales pitch I rehearsed on the way over. “No, it’s brilliant. Rather than offering to tutor him, I’m going to ask him to tutor me.”
    “What?” Amy tips her head, confusion marring her pretty features. “The guy doesn’t give a rat’s ass about school.”
    “Not academic tutoring. I’m going to ask him to teach me how to be one of them. You know, like in Can’t Buy Me Love .”
    Amy’s expression deadpans, making her look like her father. “This isn’t a romantic comedy from the eighties, Tori! This is real life, and it’s going to end in heartbreak.”
    “No, it’s not.” I yank the pen from my messy bun and start tapping it against my notepad, glancing over my shoulder to admire the side of Colt’s face. “He’s going to think he’s helping me win over one of his friends, and while he’s doing that, he’s going to fall completely in love with me.”
    “You are so deluded, it’s actually terrifying,” Amy whispers.
    “Would you stop?” I spin to face her. “You’re my best friend. You’re supposed to support me.”
    “Watching you do this is going to give me a heart attack.”
    “Well, lucky for you I know CPR.” I follow up my pointed look with a cheesy smile that soon has her giggling.
    “Girls, get to work,” Mr. Briggs barks softly, chasing it up with a glare that has us both jumping away from the counter.
    I wink at Amy, then head for Table 18. Nerves are once again assaulting me, but I raise my chin and try my best to ignore them. I’m not going to let Amy’s skepticism get me down. My plan will work, and I’ll take great delight in proving her wrong.
     

 
    #4:
    Hidden Agenda
     
    Colt
     
     
    I hate that I’m the first one here.
    Picking up my fork, I spin it in my fingers while keeping an eye on the door. Usually, I give Finn a ride and we show up together, but his mom lent him her car this morning so he could pick up some art supplies after practice. She’s an early childhood educator and runs a preschool in Brownridge, the next town over. She’s always getting Finn to do little errands for her and, being an only child who’s set on Golden Boy status, he always helps his mama out.
    I shift in my seat, flicking open the menu with the tip of my fork, then scanning the high-gloss photos. I don’t know why. I already know what I’m going to get. It’s a Wednesday night in September, which means the chef’s special will be discounted. It also means the chef’s special will be the Summer Sizzler—double meat patty, cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onion rings, pineapple, bacon and a sauce that was made in heaven and sent down to satisfy every craving ever invented. As weird as Mr. Lomax can sometimes be, the guy knows how to cook delicious food.
    My stomach rumbles just thinking about it.
    This afternoon’s football practice was a tough one. The coaches pushed us hard. Our first game of the season is looming, and they want us to have another killer year. I appreciate how much they push us, although my body disagrees. I knead my neck, still tight and sore…although I can’t help wondering if the actual cause is stress. I’ve had a headache since Miss Wilder handed out our history assignments. The first week of school and we get lumped with a freaking two-thousand-word essay. Some crap about assessing our research and processing abilities—are we able to research a topic, explain it, and then expand our thinking to form a rational opinion. I