Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“I don’t know. They’re all gymnasts. No one ever falls.”
Oh. Right! Because they’re all superhuman. It’s going to take me a minute or two to adjust to this new perspective. I suddenly have so many questions. Like–can they get hurt? How easy is football for Abe? Is it only their team that’s comprised of wolf players? Is it our entire team?
Also, I can’t believe I just thought our with anything related to this school or town.
The football game starts, and I watch the players on the field.
Okay, fine, I watch Abe, our star quarterback. He’s beautiful. He has the body of a thoroughbred and the grace and ferocity of a lion. He makes the plays look effortless. Like throwing the ball most of the way down the field with a flick of his wrist takes nothing.
Too bad his teammate, J.J., fumbles when he catches the throw.
Except…did he fumble?
Abe doesn’t look that upset about it. Neither do their coaches. People in the stands are cheering like it wasn’t a mistake.
A thought occurs to me. Is this game child’s play for them? Do they have to pretend to screw up because they’re playing against human teams?
“So does Wolf Ridge win every game they play?” I ask.
Rayne keeps her gaze on the sidelines where her dickwad stepbrother stands barking orders at the team. There’s some drama with him being benched from the Duke team, so he’s back helping with Wolf Ridge High. Also, there’s some drama between him and Rayne. He acts uber-possessive of her, which is weird.
I don’t know, maybe they have a thing for each other.
“No,” she says, still watching her stepbrother. “The team is good, but they’re not undefeated. They do always make it to the State championships, though.”
Abe throws another brilliant pass before he gets tackled to the ground. Make that lets himself get tackled to the ground. Because he barely moved when the guy first hit, then went down in a graceful swoop.
I recall how it felt to punch him. Like hitting stone–my knuckles are still bruised. But he didn’t even blink.
Abe’s friend Markley catches the ball and is also tackled smoothly to the ground.
Once again, there’s applause in the stands.
“Why is everyone clapping?” I ask.
Rayne darts a look at me. “Oh…um, just the athleticism of it.” She shrugs. “You know… just because Abe threw a long pass. This town loves him on the field.”
“Right.” I grudgingly love him on the field, too. Part of me still wants to hate on him, but it’s getting harder to maintain. He truly is a thing of beauty. And now I know he’s not as big a dick as he initially comes off as.
“I heard he almost didn’t get to play the game because you weren’t there to get him through his chemistry lab Friday.”
I raise my brows. “What do you mean?”
“You have to maintain a C average to play. Abe thinks he’s above schoolwork, so it’s week to week for him. He barely maintains. I think he got benched a few times last year for bad grades.”
“Did that upset him?”
“Does anything upset him?” Rayne scoffs.
“It upset the rest of the town, that’s for sure. I’m sure his dad had a fit. Abe will never live up to his brother’s golden boy image. Part of me thinks that’s why he became such a dick over the last few years.”
“He didn’t used to be a dick?”
Rayne shakes her head. “No. This will sound crazy, but I used to think he was sweet.”
Lincoln, who has been ignoring the conversation until now, snorts. “Sweet is not a word I would choose to describe him.”
“Me neither,” I mutter, but my conscience pricks. Abe has shown some signs of sweet. He went back to the cliff to retrieve my mom’s letter. He also shot a vampire for me and returned the letter to me in the middle of the night. Granted, the latter two were to make up for his assholery, so they don’t count. But yeah, I can see what Rayne means.
There is some sweet mixed up with all that cockiness.
A gust of wind blows at our backs, providing relief from the heat. Out on the field, Abe looks for an open player to throw the pass. Then, suddenly, his head snaps to the stands.
For some inexplicable reason, my heart starts pounding. I foolishly think he might be looking for me.
Abe doesn’t see the player from the other team barreling toward him.
I’m shocked that my instinct is to stand and point, but of course, I don’t. I just sit still and watch as he’s tackled to the ground.
This time it isn’t graceful.
He was definitely play-acting before. The fickle crowd shouts and boos at him.
Abe gets up, then drops back to his knees, clutching the sides of his helmet at his temples.
Now I do jump to my feet. “Shut up,” I yell at the people booing. “He’s hurt!”