Fallen Fourth Down (Fallen Crest #4)(18)

Drew turned to us, then looked at the chairs.

Matteo shrugged. “Whatever, man. I’m not getting split up.” He plopped down first, taking the middle chair. When we began to sit in the other two, he held up a hand. “Hold on, mofos.” Reaching over, he folded his desk up. It wouldn’t lay flat. His stomach was in the way so he groaned, but folded it back down. “I had to try.”

Drew laughed, took the seat on his right, and folded his desk up. “You can share mine.”

“I’m bringing a lap tray with me. I should’ve remembered from last year.”

I took the seat on his left. A girl was beside me. As I brought up my desk, she leaned over so it wouldn’t graze her arm and went back to typing on her laptop. It wasn’t long before the professor came in, wearing a grey business skirt and a loose buttoned down pink shirt with her hair pulled up in some bun. She paused as she took us in. She was young, probably early thirties. Pressing her lips together in a flat line, she grunted and walked to the aisle between the two groups of desks. There were a bunch of students behind us. All three of us remained silent. We knew we were blocking their view.

The professor moved back so she was right in front of us. She waved a finger in the air. “Something’s not going to work here.”

Drew shared a grin with us.

Soft laughter filled the room at her statement.

Drew said, “We got in last. What can we do?”

“You three don’t have to sit together.” She scanned the room. “I see a couple other empty chairs. Gasp. Shudder. The football team might have to sit apart for once.”

Drew frowned. “We’d rather not.”

“I’m gathering that.” Her hand rested on one hip, the other went to scratch behind her ears. “You three are going to have to split up. I won’t have nine other students sacrifice seeing the board for your comfort levels.”

Matteo grunted. “We’re not comfortable, ma’am.” He gestured to his desk and let his shoulders fall down. His arms fell against mine and Drew’s. He’d been holding himself in, scrunching his shoulders up. “I wouldn’t use that word at all.”

“Hmm.”

A voice from the back spoke up, “We can switch.”

Everyone in the room turned to look, but I didn’t need to. I recognized that soft, timid voice. It was Marissa.

She added, “My friends and I will sit up front so they can sit back here.”

Matteo said, “Miracles do happen. Thank god.” Jumping up, he swung his bag to his shoulder and nodded. “Thank you, little Mother Theresas. You will all be blessed in your afterlife and I have no doubt you’ll go to the highest heaven.”

A few in the room chuckled. The professor wasn’t amused. “This is a political science course, not a religious one.”

He touched his forehead, his chest, both of his shoulders, then touched his lips. Offering his hands up in the air, he shook his head. “My prayers have been answered again.”

Marissa and her friends grabbed all of their books and bags. They came up to the front and stepped aside. Matteo was the first to get to the back row and he plopped down in the farthest corner. He pushed the other desks to the side, giving him more space. Stretching his hands in the air, he folded them behind his head and leaned against the wall. “Wait.” He shifted, leaning against the corner of the room. Kicking his feet out, he said, “Much better. Thanks, chicas.”

Drew laughed and went next. I followed him. As I went past Marissa, she jerked her gaze away and followed her friends as they sat down. I tensed, but took the last seat beside Drew. We were in the back of the room and the other people in our row had scooted over so we had even more room.

The professor went to the board, and Matteo leaned forward to whisper, “We have to make sure we piss every time we come here. Once I’m back here, Matteo is not moving until class is over. No mofo, no way.” He pulled out his water and set it on the desk.

Drew took it down. “Don’t drink this until class is almost done. Your bladder’s like a girl’s. It’s barely there.”

“You’re barely there.”

“I remembered your girlfriend saying that to you a few times.”

The two shared insults, both unable to hold back their grins at the same time, but I tuned them out. Marissa glanced back over her shoulder. When her eyes caught mine, her face grew red and she ducked back down, facing forward. Her two friends looked also, but they weren’t the two that had been with her outside the stadium. Judging from the lack of surprise on their faces, they knew of me and knew of my history with Marissa.

I sat back. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I wasn’t even sure what to think of Marissa anymore either.





CHAPTER SEVEN



SAMANTHA



I’d been right. Coach pulled me from running with the girls and had me start with the guys. After that one day of being smart-asses and getting a chilly reception from everyone in school, they had no choice but to accept me. I’d been running with them for the past two weeks. Since Heather was working and Logan was at his game (which I promised to go to and was running late), I decided to go on a longer run than normal. I hadn’t been indulging in my really long runs, the ones that lasted a few hours. When I got home, I stopped outside the back door. The world felt alive to me. Even now, being exhausted, I was more energized than ever.