21.

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Corey kept his word and didn't act too differently in school. 

This also had to do with the fact that Atticus and I were way too awkward to talk freely to each other while he was around now. Whenever we did talk in front of him, I felt him looking, I saw Atticus' cheeks flush because he obviously noticed too, and we'd quickly break it off. 

"It's causing tension on the football field," Atticus admitted to me later, while we were sitting together in my bedroom. 

I scrunched up my eyebrows. "Sucks. Does it affect how you play?" 

"Nah, not noticeably." Atticus shoulders visibly rose and drooped as he sighed. "It's just annoying." 

"Hey, you'll get through it. He'll come around because you guys are good friends. And things will be so different when my mom finally gets a move on and we're no longer livin' together." I paused. "And... maybe it'll help if I'm not a part of the football team, too?" 

Atticus considered my words for a moment. 

"I don't want you to stop playing because of this. But I don't think it's the sport for you," he finally concluded with a careful smile.  

 I laughed. "I know I suck." 

"Hey, you don't suck, okay?" Atticus pointed at all my sketches I'd attached to the wall with tape. Some coloured and detailed, some vague and half-finished. Most of them were drawings of people in various styles. "You just never practiced football. The kind of discipline you show with your art tells me you would've been a great football player, had you been practicing it from a young age."  

Even with the practice, I was convinced I'd still suck. Nevertheless, I smiled at the compliment and brushed my fingers against Atticus' upper arm. 

"Thanks."   

It was so cute how his cheeks flushed every time I touched him, even if it was just my hand on his arm. 

"Keep coming to the gym with me, though," he said. "It's good for you, and with fitness you're only in competition with the you from yesterday." 

I snorted. "Hah! At least there's someone I can beat in sports, then. So you're sayin': well, you can't compete with anyone else, but maybe you can compete with yourself!" 

"Pff, I didn't mean it that way!" Atticus protested, picking up a pillow and hitting me with it gently. 

"I know," I laughed. "Just kiddin'." 

We smiled at each other. Then, the phone rang. Or rather, my computer did.

I looked over at my laptop screen. "Oh, that's mom! I forgot we were gonna call."

"That's alright, I can go," Atticus said. He'd already unfolded his legs and was halfway up from my bed when I grabbed his arm and gave it a tug. 

"You wanna meet her?" I asked. 

I saw Atticus hesitate, but much to my surprise he nodded.

"Uh, alright."

Atticus allowed me to pull him back on the mattress and stayed there while I grabbed my laptop from my desk.

"Ready?" I asked. Atticus took a deep breath and nodded again.

I pressed answer, and promptly Mom's ever-chaotic self appeared on the screen. Her hair was put up in a messy bun, and she smiled, making creases appear next to her dark blue eyes.  

"Hey mom!"  

"Hi, honey!" She replied. "And this is...?"

"This is Atticus," I introduced Atticus.

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