Girl Against the Universe by Paula Stokes Page B

shakes his hair back from his face. “The rest of your game is on point, and Hoffman needs good players. Plus you helped me with my shrink homework. I owe you one.”
    â€œNot like you gave me much choice,” I say, thinking back to the ice-cream ambush.
    â€œYeah, like I said, I can be kind of an overbearing ass. For what it’s worth, though, you really did help.” Jordy claps me on the shoulder, the veins in his lean, muscular forearm standing out like highways on a map. “I have to take off, because I’ve got a meeting with my coach, but tomorrow I’m yours, if you want me.”
    â€œOkay.” I give him a tentative smile. “Thanks. And sorry about . . . hitting you.”
    He laughs. “I’ve endured worse injuries on the court.” Turning toward the school, he squints off into the distance. “Yikes. Here come Kimber and Reyes. Time to bail.”
    He ducks through the gate and lopes off toward the school, cutting around the side of the track to avoid our athletic trainer. I watch him until he disappears, taking note of his long legs and hair that flops just slightly with eachstride. At least he seems fully recovered; no permanent damage done.
    Kimber and Reyes duck through the gate and out onto Court One. Coach Hoffman pulls Reyes a few feet away to tell him what happened. Both men start to laugh. I go back to arranging my racquet strings again.
    â€œCheck yourself, New Girl,” Kimber says.
    I lift my head. “What?”
    â€œI said check yourself.” Her jaw goes tight. “I saw the way you talked to him. The way you watched him run all the way to the building. Best to stop before you even start. Jordy is off-limits. To everyone. He is . . . singularly focused.” She shifts her body so that one foot is sideways in front of the other, almost like a ballet pose. “His whole life is tennis and studying.”
    I decide not to point out that’s two things, not one. “I’m not—I mean, I wasn’t—” My words get all tangled up as Kimber crosses her arms and stares at me. “He just offered to help with my serve. I don’t even know him.”
    â€œThat’s right. You don’t,” she says. “Remember that.”
    After practice, Jade catches up with me on the way to the locker room. “Okay. So first you rack the golden boy and then you talk back to Queen Kimber.” She pulls her phone out of the zippered compartment of her racquet bag. “You need to give me your number, because I think I might love you.”
    I blush a little at the attention. “I wouldn’t say I talked back to her. I was trying to figure out what her deal is. She yelled at me just for looking at Jordy.”
    â€œYeah. Those two are tight.”
    I realize she’s still waiting for my phone number. I rattle off my digits. “You said he doesn’t date. So they just hook up casually or something?”
    â€œI don’t know. Apparently, they’ve known each other since elementary school. All I know is, she freaks out when he talks to other girls.”
    I yank open the door to the locker room, my eyes roving across the furniture, floor, ceiling, and everywhere in between as Jade and I head down the main aisle. I stoop down to pick up a stray tennis ball that’s lying in front of the sinks. “Well, she needs to calm down because he just offered to help me with my game—that’s it.”
    â€œRight.” Jade picks at her nail polish. “She’s probably a little threatened by you.”
    I glance around, hoping no one heard her. Two girls from the softball team are standing at the mirror messing with their hair. They don’t seem to register our presence. Everyone else is either in the showers or already gone.
    I lower my voice. “Why would anyone be threatened by me?”
    â€œBecause you showed up out of nowhere and you’re good.” Jade and I turn