The One That I Want by Jennifer Echols Read Free Book Online

game.”
    Max turned to Carter. “What she said.”
    “But it doesn’t really matter yet,” I said, “unless you’re starting seniors.”
    “We’re both juniors,” Max told me, “but we’re both starting.”
    “You
are
?” I asked. “For
your
school? Wow, that’s huge. You must both be really good.”
    Carter smiled and blushed, but Max gave me a savvier smile. “How do you know so much about football?” he asked. “You don’t strike me as a girl who would watch football. You look like you’d be a fan of . . . I don’t know.” He tilted his head as he ran his eyes over my brown hair streaked with purple, down my MARCHING WILDCATS T-shirt, to my funky bracelet collection on my left arm—which I never went without, but which Addison complained was annoying to listen to when I twirled. He said, “Fight club.”
    Fight club
wasn’t quite the look I was going for.
Roller derby
would have been better. I didn’t want Max to think I was harsh.
    Over Carter’s and Addison’s chuckles, I said, “May I remind you that I am also a majorette for my high school marching band? That’s me, Gemma Van Cleve, Incorporated, defying stereotypes for almost sixteen years.”
    “As a Japanese-American football player with a southern accent, I
might
know where you’re coming from.” Max winked.
    “Touché.” I grinned at him.
    He grinned back at me, and the smile seemed genuine, reaching his deep brown eyes. I had never been good at flirting. When I was heavier, I’d had no confidence that boys would be interested in me, so I didn’t bother trying. Even now that I’d lost weight and gained self-esteem, flirting was foreign. There was a fine line between sexy banter and out-and-out arguing. I tended to cross it and chase boys off. Or maybe I chased them off with my noisy bracelets. But in that moment, with Max, I felt like I had hit the elusive sweet spot. For once, I had done everything exactly right.
    “What did you say?” Addison asked. “Tissue? Tush? What?” She wasn’t really that stupid, I hoped. It must have been the only way she could think of to re-enter the conversation. While I’d held the boys’ attention, she’d stripped the wrappers off three straws and braided them together. She did not do well when she wasn’t the focus of attention.
    “You have been left behind,” I told her.
    That was the wrong thing to say. Addison smiled at me humorlessly, face tight. I had lots of experience being dragged along on her flirting runs, but no experience getting caught up in one. She seemed to be telling me to get back into my cage and wait until she called me.
    “I’ll tell you how Gemma knows so much about football,” Addison said.
    Oh, she wouldn’t. She’d already spilled to these boys that I’d lost almost a third of my body weight. Surely she wouldn’t tell them about my dad, too?
    Yep, she would. “When Gemma was little, she went to every Falcons game with her dad.”
    “Wow, every game?” Max asked. “That must have been expensive. He had season tickets?”
    I swallowed. “Sort of.”
    Addison, seeing that this line of conversation caused me discomfort, generously made things worse. “Her dad owned the team.”
    Both guys gaped at me. Their eyes and mouths opened wide. They looked like cartoon characters with their jaws and eyeballs lolling on the floor. Boys were terrified by the idea of my rich and powerful dad, even though he was nowhere around and didn’t care about me.
    “He
used
to own the team,” I clarified sheepishly. “Only part of the team. It was just an investment he held for a while.” As the words came out, I knew I was digging a deeper hole for myself, lamely trying to explain away my dad’s casual investment of several million dollars, but I couldn’t stop. “He sold it when he moved to Hilton Head.” Good work, Gemma! I had successfully downplayed how filthy rich my dad was by revealing that he lived in the most exclusive oceanside retreat for Atlanta