Preparing myself to lay it on thick, I cleared my throat. “I’ve already started writing my apology to Mr. Tillson and Miss Constance. I’ll deliver it to them today before practice and, if it’s okay with Wren, I’d very much like to work with her in order to bring up my AP Lit grade. The guys on the team are counting on me, and I don’t want to let them down.”
“Thank you, Fuller,” Principal Davis said.
Wren cringed.
Guilt washed over me, but that didn’t matter. I had to look out for my family and myself right now. My entire future depended on it. Wren was so smart, she probably had ten scholarships all lined up for next year.
“Wren, I’m really sorry for throwing food at you today. I think…” I paused for dramatic effect. “I think that sometimes I act out because even though I try to be good at everything, the harsh reality is that I’m not. I’m flunking AP Lit, which means if I don’t get a good grade on the next paper, I’m riding the bench in the season opener. Basketball means the world to me, and if you could please give me a chance, I promise to work hard and listen to everything you say.”
The words sounded sincere as they left my lips and, to be honest, some of them were closer to the truth than I’d like to admit. Up until this year, I’d never struggled with my grades. But the mounting pressures had gotten to me.
After Coach had called my parents to let them know I might not get to play in the first game, they’d ripped into me. I vividly recalled the feeling of heat creeping up my neck and the tight knot forming in my stomach. I’d never felt more ashamed. Missing any of the upcoming games could risk my future at the University of Georgia, my dream school. The coach had come out to the State Championship game last season and, if the rumors were true, he planned to come out again to the season opener to watch me play. Missing the season opener could have a disastrous impact on my future.
Coach remained silent as Principal Davis let out a sigh. “Miss Carter, the choice is yours. Either suspension and detention or tutoring Mr. James until he brings his Lit grade up to at least a C, although an A or B would be preferred.”
Wren stood and began pacing. “Suspension on my permanent record and losing my spot at the STEM Academy Camp? No way.”
“So, you’ll agree to help Mr. James?” Coach interjected in a hopeful tone.
“Well, it’s not like I have a choice,” she responded. Her voice was full of anger. She shot me another look that would stop most guys dead in their tracks, her hazel eyes practically launching live grenades at me. I’d never seen her this riled up before, and even though I hated to admit it, she looked kind of hot, in an angry nerd kind of way.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, standing to shake Principal Davis’s and Coach’s hands. “I promise this will never happen again.”
“It had better not,” Coach responded. He straightened the lanyard around his neck with his staff ID card hanging off the bottom.
Wren scowled as the corners of Coach’s lips curled up into a triumphant smile.
The first time I found out Coach was her uncle, I thought I’d heard wrong. What were the odds? Either way, their next family dinner wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience.
Principal Davis checked his watch. “Well, that’s settled. You two can go to the library now. I’ve informed your study hall teacher that you’ll be working together there until further notice.”
Wren gave the principal and Coach a curt nod before storming out of the office.
“Fuller, wait for me outside the office,” Coach said.
“Uh, sure.” Was he going to chew me out in private?
Gathering my backpack, I thanked Mr. Davis and Coach before heading to the hallway.
But before I could get out of the office, I stumbled over an Algebra book in the middle of the floor.
“I’m so sorry, Fuller,” the freshman apologized. He jumped out of his chair and scooped up the book. “Did you get suspended?” His eyes were wide open as he clutched it to his chest.
“What?” I asked, looking toward the door that led to the hallway.
“For the food fight,” the kid said. “We got called down here twenty minutes ago.” He pointed to five other students, all looking nervous.
“Oh, uh, you’ll be fine,” I called over my shoulder as I pushed through the office door.
A moment later, Coach joined me in the vacant hallway. “Fuller, I need you to keep this tutoring deal between you and Wren.”
“What?” My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Not that I planned on telling anyone—it was embarrassing enough as it was—but why was he telling me to keep it a secret?
“Sophomore year, you were out for four games with a sprained ankle, remember? The team completely tanked and we lost our shot at State.”
My gaze fell to the floor. “Yes, sir. I remember.” What I remembered more than missing the game was the reason why… The day before, Hudson had taken a nasty fall during recess and broken his collarbone. My head was all over the place and, at practice the next day, I took a stupid misstep during a shooting drill and twisted my ankle. All I could think about was my little brother, and it all but destroyed the entire team’s season. Without their leading scorer, they didn’t stand a chance.
I tried to take a deep breath but failed. I had so much riding on me, it felt like an elephant sat on my chest and was refusing to budge.
“Well, we can’t have that happen again. If your teammates think there’s even a remote chance that you won’t be playing in the season opener, it will give everyone a complex and could very well cost us the game and the championship. Not to mention the fact that, if we lose a game or two, your chances at a full ride are going to go down significantly. To top it all off, if the UGA coach comes to watch you and you’re riding the bench… Well, you can only imagine how that will look, right?”
“I’ll keep it to myself, sir.” Disappointment seeped into my core. For someone who was used to feeling like the king of the court, I suddenly had plummeted to feeling like the piece of gum stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe.
“Good. I’ll speak with Wren after school.” Coach placed his hand on my shoulder. “You really need to get it together, Fuller. Your entire future is on the line.”
“Yes, sir.” My chest constricted even more.
“Good. I’ll see you at practice.” He turned around and headed toward the gym, leaving me wincing from the verbal lashing.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I headed toward the library. How could I let this happen? Failing a class? Coach and Principal Davis forcing Wren to tutor me and keep it a secret? I really screwed up…
My eyes landed on her a moment later. She was standing beside the library doors with her back to me, digging through her book bag.
“Hey, Wren,” I shouted, jogging toward her. “Wait up.” Damn, she really fills out those jeans. I’d gone out with a girl on the track team a few times and her ass was nearly perfect. I wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Wren’s butt looked even better. I pictured her in the tiny shorts the track team wore.
Before I could fall any deeper into the world’s most unexpected daydream, Wren spun around. She didn’t say anything, but the way her eyes narrowed in on me, I could tell she was still plenty angry.
I grinned, trying to cover up how embarrassed I felt, and did my best impersonation of Principal Davis. “You were throwing food, too. Were you not?”
Instead of making her laugh, Wren put her hands on her hips. “Can we just get this over with?”
Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I waited for a freshman to walk by us.
“Hey, u-uh, Fuller,” the kid stammered. “Gonna take us to a state championship again?”
“You know it,” I responded. The confidence in my voice masked the reality of riding the bench for the season. I kept smiling until he turned around and disappeared around a corner.
&nb
sp; Even though I felt like a total loser, I had to keep up the charade. I needed to lay it on even thicker. “Come on, Wren. I promise to be a good student. If I’m not, I’ll let you punish me.” I winked at her.
“You’re disgusting.” Wren’s face turned beet red, but not in the same way as the group of junior girls who waited around my locker every morning. Instead of wanting to rip off my clothes like my basketball groupies, she looked like she wanted to sock me in the face.
I had to admit, it was intriguing.
“If you’re going to be my tutor, you might want to consider being a little bit nicer to me.” I caught a whiff of her shampoo. She smelled like some kind of tropical flower. I imagined her prancing across the beach in a bikini, her long legs pumping and her feet flicking up sand. Earth to Fuller. Knock it off!
What had gotten into me? Was I sick? Had the possibility of getting kicked off the team made me delusional? Whatever it was, I needed to squash it. There was no way I’d ever crush on Wren. We had too much history and not the kind that anyone wanted to relive.
She scowled.
“It’s not going to be that bad.” I cocked my head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Plus, that punishment offer still stands.”
“Punishment offer? You mean like how Zack Denver punished you on the court last year? He scored on you what, seven times before the first half of the season opener?” She didn’t blink as she threw the statistic at me like nothing. “Or, punish as in when Nathan Dixon beat your free throw percentage by twenty-five points in the Sportsplex Summer Tournament?”
My eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Did I stutter?” She drummed her fingers on her opposite arm.
Heat blasted up my neck. I wish I’d had some stats to throw back at her, but I didn’t know anything about cross-country, and they certainly didn’t hand out percentages for the number of books read in one sitting.
“Let’s head to the library and get this over with,” Wren said, spinning on her heel and leaving me in the middle of the hallway.
I stood there watching her stomp away in disgust.
“Dude, what was that?”
I spun around, making eye contact with Marc. His shirt was still stained from the mashed potatoes Wren had launched at him during lunch.
“Did you get called into Principal Davis’s office?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
Marc chuckled. “Yeah, two days’ detention. I get to serve them during lunch, though, so I don’t have to miss practice. He showed me the video. I totally nailed that freshman with applesauce. Seriously, I wanted to ask him to email me a copy.” He glanced over my shoulder, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Anyways, why are you talking to Wren Carter? That girl hates you.”
I turned around as Wren yanked open the large wooden library doors and stormed inside.
“I’m not talking to her,” I said defensively. Coach’s words echoed in my ears, reminding me I needed to keep this a secret.
Marc jutted his chin out. “I totally heard you tell her she could punish you. Look, I know you and Marissa are on the outs, but how did you go from Haleigh and Lyla to Wrentainer?”
Before I could say anything, the library door flew back open and Wren stuck her head out and snapped, “Are you coming or—” She stopped talking when her eyes landed on Marc. Without another word, she disappeared back into the library.
“Ah, yeah. One second.” My heart slammed in my chest as Marc’s eyes narrowed in on mine. I hated lying to my teammate and one of my best friends.
“For real, are you seriously trying to hook up with her?” Marc asked, his left eyebrow raised. “Because she sounds like she wants to rip you a new one.”
“She’s totally into me,” I lied. “And she’s kinda hot.” At least that part is true. The words tumbled out with ease.
“What?” Marc asked. “Who are you and what did you do with Fuller James? You do know that we’re talking about Wrentainer, right? The same girl who spit her retainer at me in seventh grade?”
While I didn’t correct him, I never had to lie about hooking up with girls before. In fact, I never had to even try when it came to the opposite sex. Well, except with Wren. But it wasn’t like I’d ever tried to win her over.
“Hello?” Marc asked, waving his hands in front of my face. “Earth to Fuller.”
Straightening up, I pushed back my shoulders and cracked my neck. “My bad, I’m, ah, thinking about practice.”
“Okay, but don’t change the subject,” he persisted. “What’s the deal with you and Wren?”
I shrugged, trying to make what I was about to say as nonchalant as possible. “We have study hall together, so I figured after she did my math homework, I’d give her some one-on-one Fuller time. Maybe break in that AV room in the back. Come on, she’s a hot nerd who’s never even had a boyfriend.” I clicked my tongue and winked. “We’ll be making those stacks shake in no time.” The words came out before I could stop myself, and I immediately regretted them. Even though I was being a complete dick, I desperately needed Marc to buy my excuse to hang out with Wren.
“You are so full of it,” Marc responded.
Puffing out my chest, I stood my ground. “What, you don’t believe me?”
“Nope,” my teammate responded, shaking his head. “There’s no way you’d go after a girl like Wren. Plus, she literally hates you.”
I could feel my heartbeat ringing in my ears. “All right then, I’ll prove it.”
“Prove that Wren Carter actually likes you?” Marc asked. “How?”
“I bet you that by our first game, Wren Carter will be in the stands cheering for me.”
No, no, no. Stop it! What are you doing?
Marc rolled his eyes. “She’s always in the stands. That girl loves basketball more than ninety-nine percent of the kids at this school.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, realizing how deep I’d dug this hole. “I bet she’ll show up at the first game as my girlfriend.” Girlfriend? Why was I making things impossible for myself? “I’ll dump her in the parking lot afterward. Your consequence for losing the bet is to pick up the pieces and convince her to go to the Fall Harvest Dance with you.”
My chest tightened as the words left my mouth. Sure, I could be a cocky jerk, but I’d never do something like that to her—or anyone. Then why the heck did you just say it?
“You’re brutal,” Marc said with a chuckle.
I laughed, trying not to let my friend in on the fact that I was lying. “And you have to give me your Deadpool comic book collection.”
Marc tilted his head to the side. “Now you’re bringing Hudson into this?”
“He loves Deadpool and you know it.” Even though the bet was a terrible idea, I thought about the massive smile the comic books would bring to my little brother’s face. He always wanted to be like the superhero who could withstand any type of injury. With his diagnosis, it made sense.
“Are you chickening out?” I asked, desperate for him to back off. He loved his comic book collection. There’s no way he’d risk it and go through with this stupid bet.
“No way; this bet is too easy to walk away from. It is so on,” Marc said.
My chest constricted so tight I could barely breathe.
“But,” he continued, “getting her to show up as your girlfriend… You could totally fake that, and I’m not giving up my Deadpool comics that easily.”
I cleared my throat and tried to appear nonchalant. “Okay, what do you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking three things. First, prove that you two are hooking up. A picture will work. Nothing graphic, ’cause I don’t want to see all of that. Second, there needs to be some kind of public display of affection. I need to witness it, or it doesn’t count. Otherwise, how will I know you’re really going through with everything? Three, she needs to show
up at the game as your girlfriend. As in, wearing your letterman jacket, the whole nine yards.”
I gulped. I was totally going to lose this bet. I said a silent prayer that the consequence wouldn’t be something I couldn’t handle.
“If, or should I say, when you lose, you’ll have to wear Ryan’s Halloween costume from last year to school for picture day or until you get sent to Principal Davis’s office.” Marc grinned. “Sound good?”
Shit, shit, shit! It’s not too late. Fall on your sword! I repeat, fall on your sword! Coach will get over you spilling the beans.
“Unless you’re the one chickening out?” He arched an eyebrow.
“The mesh wrestling singlet?” I asked, mentally recalling the costume. “That thing is made for a ten-year-old.” That singlet left nothing to the imagination. I was confident, but was I that confident? Wren would totally freak out if she saw me wearing it.
Hmmm… That might actually work in my favor.
Before I could get lost down that rabbit hole, Marc cleared his throat. “Do we have a deal or are you ready to admit you’re full of it?” Marc grinned, holding out his hand.
Before I could stop myself, I grabbed his hand and shook it. “It’s a deal.”
Chapter Three
Wren
Fuller sat across the table from me. He’d emptied out his backpack and surprise, surprise, he didn’t have his copy of The Hate U Give. All he had was his laptop and a notebook. He literally didn’t even have a pen or pencil. “Where’s your book?”
He shrugged and grinned. “I must have left it at home. Hey, how did you know all of those statistics off the top of your head?”
“I’m good with numbers, and I really like basketball.” My admission was simple, but Fuller still looked at me like I’d just solved one of the Navier-Stokes Equations.
The library was quiet. Besides us, the only other person in there was Mrs. Parsons, the librarian. She’d won some kind of grant and was unloading a huge box of new books. I’d even helped her select some of them. She knew how much I loved reading and asked for my input on new material from time to time.
I Hate You, Fuller James Page 3