Chapter 12

I write my number on a piece of notebook paper and hand it to Michael who shoves it gingerly into his tight denim jean pocket.

"I'll text you when I get out of practice tonight if that's Alright?" He asks me and I tind myself picturing him in those super form fitting football uniform pants.

Oh wow what's happening?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. I hope you do really well," I say, only half paying attention because I'm too busy wondering why the hell I had that thought...