chapter 3 Lara

The moment I step into the house, I know something is about to go down.

"Three… two… one—"

"LARA! MOM SAID IT'S YOUR TURN TO SET THE TABLE!"

Max, my menace of a little brother, comes skidding into the hallway, arms flailing like a maniac.

I barely get my shoes off before he's in my face.

"Did not hear her say that," I reply smoothly,

stepping around him.

Max grabs my arm. "You were at school!"

"Exactly," I say, patting his head like a wise

old monk. "You could be lying. I have no proof."

His entire face contorts in betrayal. "You're ACTUALLY the worst."

I grin and throw my bag onto the couch. "I do try."

Mom appears from the kitchen, already exhausted by merely existing in the same house as us. "Lara, don't make me call your father."

That gets me moving.

"Fine, fine," I mutter, dragging myself to the

dining table like I'm walking to my doom.

Dad, reading the newspaper like a man untouched by household chaos, peeks up and smirks. "Your dramatics are awardworthy,

kid."

"I know," I say, grabbing the plates. "I should charge for performances."

Max glares. "I'd pay you to shut up."

I gasp, clutching my chest. "You wound me, dear brother."

Mom sighs. "Can we have one peaceful dinner?"

Silence.

Then Max and I burst out laughing.

"Not in this house!" I declare.

Dad clinks his glass against mine. "That's my girl."

I am not the kind of girl who gets all giggly over a guy.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

But then there's Steve.

Steve, who plays soccer like it's what he was born to do. Steve, with the easy smile and the way-too-charming hair that always looks effortlessly perfect. Steve, who literally made eye contact with me once and now my brain won't shut up about it.

It's pathetic.

"Lara, you're staring," Lana mutters beside me, nudging my arm.

I snap out of it immediately. "I was not."

"You were so."

"I was—" I cut myself off because Steve just scored a goal, and oh my god—his smile.

Lana makes a dramatic gagging noise. "You have it so bad."

"Shut up," I hiss, but I can't stop the small grin that creeps onto my face.

Steve jogs past where we're sitting on the bleachers, wiping sweat off his forehead.

And for a split second—one entire second—he looks at me.

"Did he—?"

"He definitely just looked at you," Lana

whispers, eyes wide.

I pretend like my heart isn't doing a ridiculous backflip. "Probably looking at you."

Lana snorts. "I'm wearing sunglasses. He can't even see my eyes."

Before I can respond, a very different voice cuts through my moment of

internal panic.

"Wow. This is embarrassing."

My entire mood drops.

Because Jack just sat down beside us, grinning like he just caught me committing a crime.

"What," I deadpan.

"You're actually blushing."

I shove him. "I am not."

"You totally are," Lana sings, having the time of her life.

I groan, covering my face with my hands. "I hate you both."

Jack leans back, looking way too smug. "Don't worry, Lara. I'm sure Steve has a thing for girls who make weird faces while watching

him play."

I whip around to glare at him. "I was not making weird faces!"

Jack shrugs. "You kinda were."

Lana nods. Traitor.

I sigh and look back at the field, where Steve is laughing with his teammates.

And, okay.

Maybe I do have it bad.

For the rest of practice, I try to act like a

normal person.

Like, a person who isn't hyper-aware of every single move Steve makes. A person who isn't sneaking glances at him every other minute. A person who definitely doesn't feel her stomach flip when he pushes his hair back after running a hand through it.

"Okay, seriously, you need help," Lana says,

catching me for the tenth time.

"I'm fine," I lie.

"You're down bad," Jack chimes in, still here for some reason.

I whip around. "Why are you even here?"

Jack grins. "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I ruining your little rom-com moment?"

Lana snorts. "More like her tragic one-sided crush moment."

"I hate both of you," I mutter, but my eyes betray me and flicker back to Steve.

And that's when it happens.

Steve glances up, catches me looking—again—and actually smiles.

At me.

Oh. Oh.

I freeze, every single function in my brain shutting down at once.

Jack watches my reaction with absolute amusement. "Oh my god, this is GOLD."

I shove his shoulder, but I'm still too stunned to properly react. "Shut up, Jack."

"I can't believe it. Lara has a CRUSH."

Lana laughs. "Oh, she's doomed."