Showing up to school, I couldn't keep the smile off my face. When I showed up at her house, I thought it was going to be a clusterfuck. Most of the guys on the football team weren't scholarship players, which was shocking considering how good we were.

I figured once Frankie figured out I wasn't on her level, it was going to be the night from hell with her trying to bail. Goes to show how much I knew about anything. She'd been the same Frankie I saw every day in school. Scratch that, not the same—the Frankie I knew did not give me wood with just a look, although she could now.

The minute I stepped off her front porch at the end of our date, nothing else mattered. Not my shitty car. Not football. Not the empty beer cans and bottles I had to step over when I got home. Nothing other than her smell that lingered on my skin and the feel of her on my lips. That was all that existed until I got to school Monday morning. I didn't want to text her over the weekend and freak her out. And when I asked her out again, I wanted to do it in person. Make it something really special. She deserved that.

I drove into the lot at school, my engine rumbling, but I didn't care. My assigned spot was taken by an Audi Roadster. There were times I thought coming to Havert Prep was a mistake. Most football players on winning teams were treated like gods, or at least treated like more than the hired help. While most people were nice, so many of the guys on the team were total assholes.

They used me, and I used them right back. I was set to graduate with nearly straight As, and while I wasn't in the honors classes with Frankie, it meant I'd be able to write my own ticket to pretty much any college I wanted. I found another spot in the back next to the other beat-up cars and spotted Frankie's VW Beetle.

Looking at it, I realized I was an idiot. It wasn't an old clunker like mine. It was a fucking vintage VW Beetle convertible. Not a dent or ding. Perfect paint and a shiny bumper. She parked it along the back of the lot like everyone else with normal cars. I'd never paid attention before, but I was sure as hell paying attention to anything that had to do with her since the moment she opened her front door. I nearly broke out into a jog across the parking lot. She was in school already, which meant if I was fast, maybe I'd get to talk to her before homeroom.

I stopped short while walking past the chem lab and spotted Frankie in there, looking the same as she always had. T-shirt, jeans, braid over one shoulder, and her navy backpack on both shoulders. She'd never looked more beautiful. I’d lifted my hand to open the door when she took her backpack off and dropped it onto the front desk, and the teacher came around and looked like he was helping her with something. I could wait. Didn't want my eagerness to freak her out. Hell, it was freaking me out.

My locker was right around the corner. I'd run and get my books and then double back. Hopefully, she'd be done by then, and I'd get to walk her to homeroom. I shook my head. Damn, I had it bad.

Maybe this could actually end up as something real. I'd be going to wherever recruited me for college, but I didn't care. We might only have the rest of the school year together, but we could make it work. I hated how far ahead of myself she had me thinking. Calm the fuck down.

"Did you guys see Frankie at the dance?"

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up the minute I heard her name. I wrenched my locker door open. Chief fucking prick, the head football coach's son, stood holding court with his cronies and their girlfriends next to his locker, a few down from mine. The only reason he rode the bench versus never being on the team in the first place was because of his dad. At least his dad cared enough about winning not to put him in the games. But that didn't stop him from pretending to be the big shot football player in the halls, and no one called him on his shit.

"Hell, yeah. Who knew that hot body was hiding out under all her geek shit?" someone else piped up. I clenched my fists and took a deep breath.

"I don't think she looked that good," one of the girlfriends said, and I gritted my teeth. She looked fucking amazing. Anyone who thought differently was a moron.

"Not as good as you, babe, but we've never seen her look like that. Well, except for that one time.” They all burst out laughing. What the hell was that about?

“I totally thought she was a dyke," someone sneered, adding to the piles of hatred I already had for them. I could not beat the shit out of them. I repeated this over in my head. My fingers tightened around the locker door. I grabbed whatever books were on top. I wasn't even paying attention to what I was doing at that point.

"She looked like she was having a fun time with Grim. Maybe she could have a fun time with me," chief prick said, cupping his dick. I pushed my head into my locker to stop the rage building in my throat from breaking free.

"You'd think Grim would have had better taste, but maybe he figured she'd be an easy lay." Their voices all blended together into a cacophony of assholes. If anyone laid a hand on her, I'd rip his dick off and serve it to him.

"Oh yeah, she was having a great time slumming it with Grim. If he weren't a football player, she wouldn't have given him the time of day," someone said.

"Did you see his car? I mean she drives that old Beetle, but that thing he drives is a piece of shit." A peal of laughter came from the group.

The metal dug into my palm before I slammed the locker door shut. Knocking someone out and losing my scholarship would be a one-way ticket to ruining all the hard work I'd put in, but my blood boiled. I needed to get out of there.

The loud metal on metal, far louder than everything else in the hallway, drew their attention to me. A few of the guys ducked their heads, pretending like they hadn't seen me. Nothing existed in their world. Not even people standing less than ten feet away. I shoved the books into my backpack before slinging it over my shoulder.

I'd dealt with their shit for too long. I was used to it, but I didn't appreciate what they said about Frankie. One of the cheerleaders, the queen bitch, sauntered over to me. I'd kept my distance from her for the past two years. The last thing I needed to do was get mixed up with a territorial, rich, entitled chick.

I knew she was bad news from the minute I made my first interception and touchdown, and she declared that she'd be ready for our date the following day. That was over two years ago, and she was still waiting. She stepped in closer, and I backed up until my back hit the lockers.

"Grim, if you were that desperate to get my attention, you could have just asked. I'd have gone to the dance with you."

In what alternate universe did she think me turning her down for a date meant I was desperate for her attention? I bit my tongue.

"Don't worry, Monica. It looks like he got a much easier get-out-of-poverty card with Frankie. She's nowhere near as high-maintenance as you." One of the guys called out from behind Monica. She glared over her shoulder before setting her sights back on me. The doe-eyed look in her eyes didn't fool me one bit. She was all honey on the outside and poison on the inside. I knew a pit viper when I saw one.

"Is that what it is? Because her daddy has more money than mine? Trust me, she's never going to put out for you." She batted her eyelashes at me and stepped closer, putting her hand on my chest. My head slammed against the lockers as she spoke inches from my face. A nervous laugh burst free from me. Monica couldn't handle that I, of all people, turned her down. She hadn’t cared one bit until she saw me out with Frankie.

"I bet she won't know how to do half the things I can do to you," she said, biting her bottom lip. But it wasn't sweet and cute like when Frankie did it. It was a calculation on how to get a guy to do what she wanted, and I wasn't taking the bait. I resisted the urge to shove her to the ground.

Monica reached out and ran her finger down my cheek. I turned my head to the side and my heart froze. Frankie. She stood only a few lockers away, before she rushed off.

I pushed Monica away from me, and rushed after her.

"He wants a real woman, Francesca!" Monica shouted after us. I couldn’t stop to turn around and set Monica straight. Because for one thing, I didn’t want to get expelled, but what was more important, I needed to get to Frankie first.

I raced after Frankie until she ran into the girls’ bathroom. I stopped short and contemplated going inside, but one of the teachers who fucking hated me stood on the other side of the hallway, eyeballing me. That's all I needed. A suspension. The warning bell rang, but no sign of her.

I glanced at the time on my phone and gritted my teeth. She couldn't hide in there forever. I was pushing against the bathroom door when a hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me around.

"Mr. Grimsby, where do you think you're going?" he asked, looking one second away from writing me up.

"I was going to check on a friend," I said, glancing sideways at the door.

"I'm sure whatever it is you have to say can wait until she's finished. Does the counselor need to have a discussion about boundaries with you?" He crossed his arms over his chest, and it took everything in me not to roll my eyes. He was a pompous prick who thought jocks only rested on their laurels and didn't actually do any work.

"No, I don't need a boundaries talk, but I need to make sure she's okay."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door swing open, and Frankie took off down the hall. I took a step in her direction, and the teacher stepped in front of me.

"We're not finished yet, Mr. Grimsby."

I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck.

"My friend is finished, and I need to talk to her."

"You need to get to class. The bell is about to ring."

"I've still got time," I said, staring over his shoulder. She turned the corner without looking back. The bell rang and I closed my eyes, shaking my head.

"And there we have it. Here, let me escort you to your class, Mr. Grimsby." He held out his arm, letting me go first, and stuck with me the entire way to my classroom. The door slammed behind me like a prison door.

The minute I sat down, I knew something was off. People were whispering and staring. Not like they did after we won a game. This was something different.

I needed to talk to Frankie. I needed to talk to her the minute class ended and try to explain that whatever it is she thinks she saw was not what it looked like.