Read Playing With the Boys Online
Authors: Liz Tigelaar
Lucy stared at him as if her eyes needed adjusting. There was something about him. Standing there, not caring what anyone else thought. It was as if she had just put huge, thick glasses on and everything had gone from being fuzzy and blurry to crystal clear.
Benji.
Lucy smiled. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave without me.”
“I won’t,” Pickle promised. “I wouldn’t even think of it.”
Lucy tentatively approached Benji. “You’re here,” she commented.
He nodded. “You too.”
They were both quiet for a moment.
“You look nice.”
He nodded again. “You too. Less footbally than usual.”
She smiled; then there was more awkward silence.
Lucy spoke first. “I looked for you after the game but—”
“My dad—I didn’t want to deal with him, so I hid out in the locker room till the excitement died down.”
“He was disappointed you weren’t kicking?”
Benji sighed. “Understatement of the year.” He shook his head. “Dads can be such . . .” He searched for the word.
“Dads,” Lucy stated.
Benji laughed. “Yeah. That.”
“Benji?” Lucy took a deep breath. “You want to dance?”
Benji looked around. “With who?”
Lucy hit him playfully in the arm. “With me, stupid!”
A broad smile spread across Benji’s face. His braces gleamed under the lights. Then he remembered. “What about Ryan? Isn’t he the guy you want to be dancing with?”
“Not really,” Lucy admitted. “He was . . . but now . . .”
“Now what?” Benji asked.
“There’s someone else. Someone else I’m interested in.”
Benji deflated. “Oh.”
Lucy held out her hand. “Someone who’s been great to me since the first day I set foot in this gym.”
It slowly dawned on Benji that she meant
him.
But still, he had to joke. “Morbid?”
Lucy laughed and shook her head. She reached out for Benji’s hand. He placed his hand in hers.
She led him onto the dance floor. A slow song played. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he gently let his hands rest on her hips. They swayed to the music. She glanced around at Pickle and the girls giggling in the corner, giving Lucy the thumbs-up.
“So . . . next week’s game against Branford,” Benji said. “Should be a good one. Hopefully you didn’t screw up your ankle too bad last night.”
Lucy looked Benji in the eye. “So do you think I still have a chance?” she asked.
“To play? Sure! If you wrap it tight, put some ice on it—”
Lucy interrupted. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, do you think I still have a chance with you?”
“With me?” Benji asked, surprised. “For what?”
Lucy smiled. “For this . . .”And slowly, in front of everyone, she leaned in and kissed him. And at that moment, under the shimmering light, surrounded by her friends, Lucy finally found that missing
K
. In the company of the right friends and with the right boy, knowing she had made the right decision, for the first time since as far back as she could remember, Lucy Malone felt truly
lucky
.
owle
Thank you to all the people who helped make this book a reality.
First to Jane Schonberger and George Morency, whose lives are committed to empowering young women through sports. Thanks to Carole Rosen, Andy Barzvi, and Jennifer Joel of ICM who have been supporters of this book and series from the beginning. Thanks to the amazing, talented, detail-oriented, most insightful storyteller and note-giver, Kristen Pettit, who this couldn’t have happened without.
A huge thank you to football players, experts, and friends Jason Wilborn, Nick Offredi, Mark, Sascha, and Caleb Tymchyshyn, who taught me everything I know about football. Thank you to Gretchen West, my laughing potato-in-crime, who kept me ‘sane‘ while writing. And most of all, a thank you to my family, Bob, Mary and Kate, who read every word, every chapter, and every draft and are always the inspiration for everything I write. I love you.
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