The QB's Nerdy Addiction novel · Chapter 9 of 24

Chapter 9: The Apartment Above the Garage

Gage lived above a garage on Maple Street, up an outdoor staircase that shook when you climbed it.

I came at eight on Friday with my bag and my heart in my throat.

His roommate answered the door in an apron that said KISS THE COOK.

The left tackle filled the frame. He was holding a spatula the size of a paddle.

"You're Hallie," he said. "I've made nine grilled cheeses. Please eat them."

"Nine?"

"I got nervous."

Gage came out of the kitchen behind him and rubbed his face.

"He's been like this since noon. He thinks you're going to judge the apartment."

"I'm not going to judge the apartment."

"There's a couch in the kitchen," the left tackle said, with great dignity.

There was. It was brown, and it was angled toward the stove.

We ate on it, the three of us, with plates on our knees.

The sandwiches were perfect, and I said so, and the left tackle's whole broad face turned pink.

Gage watched me eat with a look I couldn't read.

After the fifth sandwich his roommate stood up, wiped his hands, and announced that he was going to the library.

"It's Friday night," I said.

"I'm going to study something," said the left tackle, and took his coat, and went down the shaking stairs.

The door closed.

The apartment went quiet except for the refrigerator.

"He's the best person I know," Gage said.

"I can tell."

"Did you want to tell me about Brecken?"

My fork stopped.

"Dani saw him," I said. "He photographed my whole notebook in the corner booth. Every page."

"I figured."

"You figured?"

"I've known Brecken for four years."

Gage turned his plate on his knee.

"He's the nicest guy on the team, and he's wanted my job since freshman year. I know what he is."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I just didn't know what he'd do with it."

"It's charts. It's stats."

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