Pop by Gordon Korman Page B

players even complimented Marcus on a good workout. Maybe freedom of speech wasn’t dead on this team after all.
    He was toweling his hair dry after the shower when he heard the rustling of pom-poms outside the locker hut. He hoisted himself up to the transom window and peered down.
    Alyssa. Every time he found himself lamenting the move from Kansas, she was his go-to thought. There was nobody like Alyssa at his old school, nobody even close. Stalin there, Alyssa here—it was all the marketing campaign the Kennesaw Chamber of Commerce could’ve asked for.
    He was about to call down to her when a figure approached. Troy.
    â€œYou’re here late.”
    â€œYou looked good today,” Alyssa praised him. “Nice mobility in the pocket.”
    Marcus felt an odd twinge of jealousy. He’d thought he was the sole recipient of her scouting reports.
    â€œDo you ever turn it off?” Troy asked in annoyance.
    â€œWhat, in football season?”
    He sighed. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”
    â€œThat’s okay. I’ll hang out.”
    The great Troy Popovich wasn’t used to being told no, even by his ex.
    â€œYou’re waiting for him , aren’t you?”
    â€œWho?” she asked innocently.
    â€œI’m not a moron, Lyss! He’s the only guy left in the locker room!”
    She bristled. “He has a name, Troy. So what if I’m going with Marcus?”
    â€œIs this supposed to be revenge or something?” he demanded.
    â€œNo. I like the guy. The fact that it bugs you is really just a bonus.” She shrugged. “I’m a sucker for an arm. Worked for you, remember?”
    â€œHe’s nothing,” Troy scoffed.
    â€œWatch him sometime,” Alyssa urged. “You were raw at the beginning of last year, too. Marcus is the real deal.”
    Apparently, Troy wasn’t in the mood for a quarterback comparison. He was gone by the time Marcus dressed and dashed outside.
    Alyssa wrapped Marcus’s arm around her waist and started in the direction of the school. “You’re driving me home on your mean set of wheels.”
    â€œWhere do you live?”
    â€œWhy do guys have to be so practical? It’s not the destination, it’s the journey . Although,” she added skeptically, “the Barney-Davidson doesn’t give us much room to work with.”
    They walked in lockstep for a while, like a slow-motion three-legged race. Then Marcus asked, “Why is Troy so weird about Charlie?”
    She rolled her eyes. “You’re obviously a newbie at this boyfriend-girlfriend thing. Basically, you’re supposed to be getting me all hot and bothered. So why don’t you try a new topic?”
    But Marcus was determined to learn the truth. “It can’t just be that Troy hates me, because Chelsea’s the same way. What’s up with that family?”
    Alyssa was impatient. “I can’t think of anybody who doesn’t have issues with their parents. Don’t you?”
    â€œSure. Half the reason I’m here is to get away from my dad. But this is different. Charlie’s not just an NFL vet, he’s awesome. If he was my father, I’d want the whole world to know. But with those two, it’s almost like he’s a deep, dark secret.”
    â€œYou’ve got it wrong,” she told him. “Troy worships his dad.”
    â€œAt tryouts, he nearly bit Kevin’s head off for even mentioning the guy.”
    â€œIt wasn’t always that way,” she explained. “Troy and Charlie used to be closer than close—watching football, talking football, playing football. I don’t know what changed. Maybe this perfect-season stuff has something to do with it. It’s a lot of anxiety for the team—especially Troy.”
    â€œRight,” Marcus said sarcastically. “What’s a fourteen-year NFL career compared with setting a record in high