“Hurry up, we have to go if you want time to pick up your friends!” Tanner called from the kitchen.
I grabbed my bag and hurried out of my room. Descending the stairs at 9:30, I saw Tanner’s friends – Brady, Trent, and Jeremy – all turn their heads as I approached. I stopped mid-step, their widened eyes catching my attention.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” I asked, a little self-conscious.
“No, B. You just look good,” Trent replied with a grin.
I tossed a mocking smile his way and continued down the stairs. Just then, a football sailed out of nowhere and smacked Trent in the head. I burst out laughing as my brother came barreling in, playfully tackling him.
“HEY! No hitting on my sister. If anyone’s going to tell her she looks nice, it’s going to be *me*!” he exclaimed, a protective edge to his voice.
“Okay, losers. Let’s get this show on the road. The girls are waiting for us,” I said, heading for the door.
***
We drove up a long driveway, the thumping bass of music growing louder with each meter. I glanced up at the house – a sprawling, beautiful estate. Easily worth a couple million. White pillars framed the entrance, and a curved stone staircase led to massive double front doors.
“Wow. This place is insane. Whose house is this?” I asked as we stepped out of the car.
“Uh, he’s the quarterback. I don’t think you know him, B. I’ll introduce you when we get inside,” Tanner replied.
We walked up the staircase, my brother shooting me a pointed look before pulling my shirt down to cover my chest.
I rolled my eyes. He wasn’t used to seeing me in anything *but* gym clothes.
I readjusted my white tank top, tucked into my ripped jean shorts. I let the few buttons I’d undone on my flannel shirt fall open, letting it hang off my shoulders. Turning to my friends – Emily, Brett, and Anna – I gestured at my outfit with a questioning glance.
“Don’t worry, B. You look amazing. Tanner needs to let you grow up a little,” Brett reassured me.
Jeremy opened the door, and we walked into a museum. Everything was perfectly ordered, spotless. Not a speck of dust. Who would let a kid throw a party in a place like this? Just then, my brother waved me across the room.
“Hey, B,” he called, waving his hand. “This is Mister QB – aka, the guy who lives here!”
“I’ll be right back,” I told the girls, starting towards him.
I made it halfway across the room before I stopped, my breath catching in my throat. No way. It couldn’t be. I stood frozen, no more than six feet away from them.
My brother smiled, preparing to introduce me.
“B, this is the reigning QB at Center High.”
“Nice to meet you, B. I’m Tyler,” he said, flashing a sly grin.