Free Wild Cards by Simone Elkeles Page B

overdue for a new paint job.
    As I soap my body in the shower, thoughts of Ashtyn invade my mind, and my body starts reacting. I reach down and fantasize for the moment, glad nobody can read my mind. Afterward, I rinse off and am about to just chill in my bedroom, but Falkor bolts to the front door panting like crazy. The poor guy wants to go out. I put the leash on him and jog toward the football field. The place is like a magnet to me.
    It doesn’t take long to get to the school. The football team is having practice. I watch some players do drills. Immediately I’m thinking like one of them again. I haven’t been on a team in almost two years, but those plays and drills are still so familiar I could run them with my eyes closed.
    Ashtyn is doing sprints. She doesn’t notice me, but when she does I fully expect her to ream me out for taking her dog without permission.
    I watch as she grabs a few footballs and jogs to the opposite end of the field. She moves with grace as she sets up a ball and positions herself. A couple of guys on the sidelines watch her and nod, impressed. I can tell she’s so focused she isn’t aware ofanything but the ball and the white goalposts. She kicks the first ball through the posts with ease.
    As she gets into position for another kick, she spots me in the stands. She misses her next two attempts, but keeps trying. She makes six out of ten. Not bad, but nothing to write home about.
    I size up the team, something I used to do to my rivals. It’s easy to spot the head coach—he’s sporting a black-and-gold golf shirt and Rebels cap as he calls out plays. The guy has been ripping into the offensive linemen since I’ve been here, although I’m impressed with their execution. Without solid linemen, the quarterback is vulnerable and the team is weak.
    I turn my attention to the current QB, a lanky guy wearing the number three on his jersey. Number three doesn’t look confident even though he’s got good form. He makes a few plays, but can’t connect with his receivers when the defensive line rushes him.
    Number three buckles under pressure. The problem is that he knows it. He’s stuck in his head. He’s got to stop thinking when he’s in the game and let instinct take over.
    After he repeats the same mistake three plays in a row, the coach grabs the QB’s face mask and gives him hell. I’m too far away to hear his exact words, but I know he’s getting an earful.
    “Yo, Derek!” Ashtyn calls out. She throws a perfect spiral into the stands toward me, but I duck and let it fly past. It bounces onto the benches behind me and Falkor sniffs it. I haven’t touched a football since the day my mom died. While instinct tells me to catch it, I’m conflicted.
    “Yeah?”
    “Who said you could take my dog for a walk?”
    “He begged me to take him out. He obviously thinks I’m the alpha. You know dogs have a hierarchy.” I shrug. “I’m just sayin’.”
    “Toss the ball back, will ya?”
    I look at the football, lying there waiting to be put back on the field. I never thought I’d pick one up again. It’s not like I’m committing to play again. It’s just a football .
    I slowly pick up the ball and toss it underhand to her, the familiar feeling of the smooth leather rolling off my fingers a reminder of the past. Most girls I know would be afraid they’d break a nail when a football comes flying at them, but Ashtyn reaches out and catches it without hesitation.
    “You’re not the alpha. I am.” She tucks the ball under her arm and starts walking back to the field. “I’m just sayin’.”

Chapter 14

Ashtyn
    I told Derek I was the alpha, but right now I don’t feel like one. I was totally off my game today. Seeing him sitting in the bleachers watching me practice only made it worse because I was self-conscious and too self-aware.
    Fremont’s bitch.
    It’s been two days and those words are still swirling in my head. This morning Dieter called me into his office to tell