Dandelions. Darby Jr. Rae

have seen your faces when the two of you crashed in the air.”

      “You should have seen everyone’s faces,” Lauren added, “it isn’t often that someone gets the best of Luke. It was almost worth losing to see. Everyone was talking about it. Everyone was talking about you, Tess.”

      “I didn’t get the best of him. I collided with him.” I usually tried so hard just to blend in. I hated to be the center of attention in any way, not that I had much opportunity for it. Thankfully, it was dark so nobody could see my face turn red.

      “You hear that, superstar, everyone was talking about you.”

      “She’s as fierce a competitor as you are.” Cole continued to talk about me like I wasn’t there, teasing Luke unmercifully. “She out-strategized you, too, man. Almost made the catch, too. Did you see how she used Ellie to block you and charged from your blind side? It was sick how she outdid you, man. You didn’t even see her coming.”

      “You want to walk home, cheerleader?” Luke asked. We all knew he was just kidding. He enjoyed hearing Cole’s replay even more than Cole enjoyed telling it. I was sure my face would be glowing in the dark soon if he didn’t stop.

      “Ellie caught the pass and fired it off to me for the touchdown. Game over.” We pulled into Lauren’s driveway, and I was relieved to have a break from Cole’s praises while he walked Lauren to her door. Unfortunately, the silence didn’t last long. Luke picked up where Cole left off.

      “He’s not exaggerating, you know. I wish I could have seen the whole play myself. Did you really think it through like Cole described?”

      “Sort of.” I was looking out the window. There was too much light in the car from Lauren’s house to hide my red face.

      “So were you holding back the rest of the game?” Cole was back now and he was interested in the answer too.

      “Um…ya, sort of.”

      “Why?” They asked in unison giving each other an intense look.

      This was bizarre. Guys aren’t supposed to ask questions like that. They are supposed to say ‘nice play’ and punch you in the shoulder or something. Both of them were overly curious and it made me feel weird.

      “I don’t like to show off. It isn’t…polite.”

      “Polite,” Luke repeated, as if the word wasn’t in English and he was learning it for the first time. “Polite,” he said again. “Are you always polite when you compete? How do you compete politely?” The question was childlike, as though it truly puzzled him.

      Turning and facing both of them, I sighed and tried to explain, “Like when I was playing volleyball this afternoon, I just have to be good enough to win. I don’t have to compete with everything I’ve got. It’s rarely necessary,” I paused. “Wow, that must sound awfully conceited. I didn’t mean to…” I looked down at my lap.

      “Polite,” Luke said again.

      “What does it prove to destroy the other team? I don’t like the attention anyway. I’d rather just have fun playing. I know guys are wired differently.”

      Luke put his hand on my leg but kept his eyes on the road. “Please, tell me you were giving it your all on that last play, even if it isn’t true. I need to protect my tender ego here, superstar.”

      Just like that, Luke had us laughing again.

      I covered his hand with mine and patted it in a reassuring, grandmotherly way. “Don’t worry, you’ve seen my best.” Then I whispered, “For now.”