Brooks

“Come on, slowpokes. One more lap,” the PE teacher yells loud enough for most of the girls running laps around the field to hear.

“Goddammit,” my best friend Macs grumbles, her breath ragged. “Is he trying to torture us or something?”

“I think he’s trying to kill us,” I say, sticking my tongue out like a freaking dog.

“Why did I let you convince me to take this stupid class?” she complains as we force ourselves through one more lap.

“Those girls aren’t complaining.” I point at a group of five running effortlessly, somehow looking way too good in their gym shorts and tank tops.

“Of course they aren’t,” Macs scoffs. “The cheerleaders are used to this kind of torture.”

I keep staring at them, moving gracefully as they gossip and exchange glances with the boys on the football team, the latter practicing in the middle of the field.

“How do they manage to look like goddesses all the time?” Macs mutters, scowling as the girls pass us again.

“Come on, Macs. One more lap and we’re done.” I try to encourage her—and myself—because I’m about to give up any minute now. What started as a simple PE assignment has somehow turned into an impossible mission. Who would have thought running five laps could nearly kill a student who has never trained before?

“I think I’m dying.” Macs stops abruptly, grimaces, and bends over, resting her hands on her knees. “I hate you, Brooklyn. I hate you for forcing me to do this shit.” She looks up and shoots me her death glare.

I can’t help laughing, even though I’m totally with her on the dying part, as I’m about to collapse myself.

“What are you two doing? One more lap, come on,” the teacher barks, making the nearby girls break into mocking laughter.

I roll my eyes and start running again, as I definitely can’t afford another D on my report card.

Macs manages to catch up. “The only good thing about this torture session is the jocks. Look at the twins,” she says, her eyes fixed on the middle of the field.

My gaze follows hers and lands on the football team’s quarterback, who is talking to the receiver and two other boys whose positions I can’t remember.

“Timothée and Dimitris Evans,” Macs sighs dreamily. “The two most handsome boys in our school and possibly in the entire world.”

The Evans twins aren’t just the stars of the football team and Oak Hills High; they’re also ridiculously attractive and wealthy. In short, they’re walking sins on Earth.

Timothée is the quarterback and captain, and Dimitris is the receiver. They’re both insanely talented—not that I get how football works, or care that much—but even I can’t ignore them, as they are basically the gods of our school.

For obvious reasons, I’ve never talked to either of them or their friends. I’m a potato, whereas they’re the whole feast, which makes me completely invisible to their crowd—and probably to the rest of the city.

“Are you ogling the twins?” Macs teases, nudging my ribs.

“Pfft, as if,” I scoff, yanking my gaze away from the field and back to the endless track in front of me.

“Can’t you admit for once that they’re hot?” she hisses, clearly annoyed, as those boys basically live rent-free in her mind. Well, in hers and every other girl’s.

I shrug. “They’re all right, I guess.”

Macs stares at me, wide-eyed. “What’s wrong with you, Brooks?”

Instead of answering, I focus on finishing the lap. There’s no point in dragging this out because I’ll never understand Macs’s obsession with the Evans twins. Yeah, they’re gorgeous and blah blah blah, but to me, they’re just two spoiled jocks with the world handed to them on a silver platter.

* * *

By some miracle, Macs and I manage to finish the final lap and hit the showers with the rest of the girls. As a result, I’m forced to listen to the cheerleaders gossip about the Evans twins.

“Did you see Timmy today? He’s so hot,” says a gorgeous girl in the shower next to me.

“Zoe is so lucky, ugh. She gets to date the most handsome guy ever—and she also gets to hang out with Dimmy, who’s basically a god personified,” another one sighs.

“Zoe told me Timmy’s an amazing kisser, and really good in bed,” the first girl adds.

“I bet he is.” Her friend giggles.

I roll my eyes and step out of the shower, heading to my locker. Macs is already there, drying her short blonde hair and fully dressed in her school uniform.

“You’re fast,” I say, stuffing my shampoo and baby soap into the locker before pulling out my uniform and clean underwear.

“You’re the one who’s too slow. You take ages in the shower. Why is that? Do you play with yourself or something?” She asks, bursting out laughing.

“Macs,” I gasp, my eyes wide in pure horror.

“Hurry up, Brooks. We need to hit the library because Ryan’s waiting for us.” Macs changes the subject once her laughter dies down. “Speaking of which, how are things between you two? Still bumping uglies every now and then?”

My cheeks flush scarlet. I glance around in a panic to make sure no one heard her. Thankfully, the other girls are too busy daydreaming about the Evans twins to pay us any attention.

“Shhh. I don’t want the whole school knowing about Ryan and me,” I whisper sharply, my eyebrows knitting together.

She scoffs, folding her arms, “No one cares about your situationship with Ryan. We’re invisible, remember?”

Since Macs does have a point, I spill the beans. “Ryan spent Saturday night with me, and…it was pretty great.” My voice drops to a whisper, as I’d rather not risk my pristine reputation as the school’s virgin nerd.

“How long have you guys been getting down and dirty?” She laughs.

“I don’t know. Six months, maybe?” I reply, trying to sound casual.

“You really need to quit this friends-with-benefits crap and make it official,” she remarks, giving me that knowing smile of hers.

I deliberately ignore her comment. “I’m ready. Oh, I almost forgot. I can’t stay too long at the library today because I have to help my parents at the food truck in an hour.”

I close my locker, grab my backpack, and walk out of the room without looking back.

“Brooks! Wait for me!” Macs yells, running after me.

* * *

Macs and I step into the school library, where we immediately spot our friend Ryan sitting at one of the tables in the back. As we approach, I can’t help smiling at the attractive blond boy I’ve been secretly sleeping with for the past few months.

“Finally,” he exclaims, throwing his arms up and getting to his feet before rushing to hug Macs and me.

“How long have you been waiting?” Macs asks, dropping into a chair.

“One hour,” Ryan hisses, narrowing his eyes. “Where were you?” He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit without thinking twice.

Macs smirks, her mischievous grin impossible to miss, “Your girlfriend dragged me to hell.”

I ignore her, keeping my eyes on Ryan. “What she means is that we were running laps.”

“What? You were running laps?” Ryan blinks at us, clearly shocked.

“Yeah,” Macs scoffs, giving me the side-eye. “Brooks made me attend PE with her.”

“Oh, please. You were busy gawking at the football team the whole time,” I shoot back. “You should be thanking me, not cursing me.”

“I don’t get it.” Ryan frowns, glancing between us. “What do girls even see in those assholes?”

“Their looks, maybe?” Macs laughs. “The Evans twins are so dreamy.”

“Do you agree with her, Brooks?” Ryan asks, his icy gaze locking onto mine.

I stutter under the weight of his stare. “N-no-no. I don’t.” I shake my head quickly.

“Good.” He smiles, visibly satisfied. “Anyway, do you want to hit the ice cream shop?”

“Free ice cream? I could never say no to that.” Macs laughs, already pushing to her feet.

“I never said it was free,” Ryan replies, raising an eyebrow.

“Your mom would never charge Brooks and me, dude. You know that.” Macs rolls her eyes, grinning.

“True.” Ryan chuckles, then turns to me. “What about you, Brooks? Are you coming to Mom’s shop with us?”

“I’d love to, but I can’t because I’ve got to help my parents at the food truck.” I offer a small, apologetic smile.

“It’s all good. I get it,” he says. “Can I call you later tonight?”

“Of course.” I giggle, then glance down at my phone, the time making my stomach sink. I really can’t stay much longer, as my parents are counting on me to help grill burgers and handle the late-night wave of drunk customers.

“I’ll call you too, Brooks,” Macs adds, blowing me a kiss.

I sigh. “I need to go. I’ll talk to you guys later.” I wave and head out, wishing I could stay just a little longer.