“To Senior Night for the football team, duh. I figured you’d have the schedule memorized for someone who claims to love football like you do,” she snarks.
Seeing the puzzled look on my face, she explains, “It’s the last home game for the seniors on the team, the biggest game before the Turkey Game.”
I cut her off. “I know what a senior night is.”
Shay rolls her eyes. “So what needs to be explained, then? Ours is Friday, your men are playing, and we’re going. So, you need an outfit to wear, bitch.”
“Um, they aren’t all my men,” I mumble, hoping they don’t hear me. The last thing I want is to have to deal with is growly proclamations.
I blush, remembering Liam’s last week. The way he tied me up. I want to experience more of that.
“Right,” she dramatically sighs. “That’s why they all look at you like they want to infuse you into their skin. Even Rowan, who was the captain of all dicks to you, is looking at you right now like he wants to bend you over and-“
I cut her off again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Rowan, of all people, is definitely not mine. Shit, he was just with Sam yesterday at some private meet-up spot.”
“Miss Bishop and Miss Warren, would you like to be the one to teach this class? I’ll take a seat since you both have so much to say,” Mr. Jameson says snidely, ending our conversation.
“Or you could turn around and just teach,” Rowan commands from behind me. I can’t see his face, but I’m pretty sure his rich chocolate eyes are laced with challenges, daring Mr. Jameson to test him.
Never one to care who any of the heirs are, Mr. Jameson directs his ire to Rowan. “Is that so, Mr. Calloway? Did you mysteriously wake up in a reality where who you are gives you authority in my class?”
That apparently was the wrong thing to say. I watch as Liam’s face tilts to the side, studying our calculus teacher, and Karl’s fingers begin to drum on his desk.
“It’s funny you think that, because you must be the one living in a waking dream if you think who I am isn’t the only reason I’ve allowed you to hold that semblance of control, Jameson-don’t let the bit of power we allow make you forget that,” Rowan seethes.
August cracks his knuckles while giving Mr. Jameson a sinister smile to drive home Rowan’s point.
Mr. Jameson recoils at the weight of Rowan’s words before clearing his throat and returning to the smart board. “Like I was saying, coefficients are the values that multiply the predictor values in a linear regression,” he explains, accepting his chastisement and moving on.
“You were saying,” Shay leans back in, a shit-eating grin plastered across her face.
“Shut up,” I laugh, elbowing her back upright.
Maybe Rowan is trying to do better, but I still wouldn’t consider him mine.
The remainder of class passes, and I feel their presence as I pack my things and prepare to leave. Looking up, I see the guys standing in a semi-circle around my desk.
“Hey,” I say, glancing back and forth between them. “What’s going on?”
I see Shay out of the corner of my eye, and her stupid Cheshire cat grin is back in place. Turning to her, I mouth, ‘
Laugh it up, ho’ before returning my attention to the guys.
“As you’ve heard, Senior Night is tomorrow, and we’d like you to wear this.” Rowan holds out a jersey.
I reach to take it from him, holding it out in front of me to see the number seven printed on the back, along with Washington. It’s Liam’s.
“We were going to duel it out for the honor of having you wear our number, but football is Liam’s thing. We just play. So, it only makes sense you wear his,” August chimes in.
I’m going to wear the jersey, but I feel they should have to sweat it out for assuming I’d want to wear one and then choosing whose I’d wear.
“So, we’re just out here dictating my wardrobe now?” I quip, giving each of them a pointed glare. They start to fidget, and I have to stifle my laugh.
Rowan rubs the back of his neck. “We didn’t mean… we just wanted… fuck. Sorry,” he rushes out.
I burst into laughter. Seeing them squirm is one thing but watching Rowan stumble over, trying not to be a dick, is hilarious.
“I’m just kidding. I’ll gladly wear your jersey, Liam,” I say, finally putting them out of their misery.
“You’re cold-blooded, Love, but I’m here for it. Make us sweat it out- it keeps us on our toes,” August murmurs when he leans in to press a quick kiss on my lips before he backs away, and we all start to head for the door.
Shay walks over to us once she’s up and out of her seat.
“Looks like you only need to choose what you’re putting on your bumpa,” she begins, looping her arm through mine and hip-checking August out of the way. “It also looks like my statement earlier stands.”
I flip her off again and dash out the door before she can pinch me.
It looks like I’m going to the game tomorrow night.
* * *
I’m lying in my bed when there’s a knock at my door. I look up to see my dad standing at the threshold. He looks better each day. He’ll still need some physical therapy, but he’s coming along.
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” I ask, gesturing him in.
He walks in and takes a seat on the sofa. “Nothing much, Ry. I just wanted to come and spend some time with you. It’s been a busy couple of weeks for you.”
It’s true. I’ve barely been home between dates, planning the Christmas and New Year’s Eve events, and school. It’s almost felt like I’ve been a real teenager minus the whole ‘you must get married or else’ bullshit. With Dad being home, I’m no longer filling the primary parental role. Of course, I still put Jamie and the twins first in almost all my decisions, but it’s been great also to make a few selfish decisions. I’ve even had fewer instances of panic attacks.
“I’m good, Dad. We’ve been planning the toy drive for Christmas and working on getting baskets filled for families at the shelter in Lincolnville. One of the girls, Summer, has been away with her family for like a month. I don’t know how she can leave during this whole thing since we’re required not to leave, but apparently, some family emergency.”
I’d be more worried, but I’m not for two reasons. One, she’s a grade “A” bitch, and two, these people disappear on long vacations all the time.
Dad nods. “I’m glad you’re helping with that, and I’m sure Summer will be back soon,” he expresses before his face gets serious. “Look, Ry. I will be taking my seat back on the Council after the new year, but not as the leader. I don’t know that I’ll ever want that seat, but it’s time.”
Way to change the subject, Dad!
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.