03. The Game

"I can't believe you're dragging me to a footy game."

I glanced in Georgie's direction, watching as she applied a layer of gloss over her puckered lips. She had curled her hair and done her make-up for the special occasion.

"Shut up. I know you're only coming to stare at Corey," I replied.

All I'd done was ask if she wanted to come. I didn't expect her to say yes, considering she never said yes when I was dating Dylan. Now she seemed eager to join.

Not that I was complaining. Now that I couldn't sit with Dylan's family and friends, I would've been alone at the game.

She smacked her lips and grinned widely. "You know me so well. I can't wait to see how this plays out."

"Please don't make me more anxious than I already am," I said.

"Girl, when Dylan sees you and Corey together, this is all going to be worth it. Trust me."

I nodded, releasing a shaky breath. She was right. It would be worth seeing his reaction. I didn't let my mind go beyond that—it tended to wander into the scary what-ifs of this whole fake-dating situation blowing up in our faces, or how the rest of the semester could play out.

No, I needed to focus on the now. And now I was going to meet up with Corey and go out as a couple for the first time.

Well, fake couple.

"Okay, how do I look?" I asked, turning to Georgie.

I had let my hair down and let Georgie do my make-up. Like Corey had demanded, I wore his jersey that fell all the way to my mid-thighs, with bike shorts underneath. He probably meant denim short shorts, but I didn't think I even owned any. A slouchy jacket was thrown over my shoulders, covering my bare arms.

"Cute," Georgie said. "But lose the jacket."

"No way. It's gonna be freezing," I said, only pulling it around myself tighter.

"Fine, whatever," she said. She reached up to adjust my hair before smoothing out my jersey—Corey's jersey. "You look hot, Sage. Make him regret all his life choices, yeah?"

For a second, I wasn't sure if she meant Corey or Dylan.

I nodded, suddenly feeling jittery. I hadn't seen either one all week. Okay, fine. I was putting in every bit of effort to avoid them, but now I had to face the music.

I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

I really hoped this stupid plan of mine didn't explode in my face.

"I'll meet you at our seats," I said to Georgie, grabbing my purse.

I had to get to the game early since Corey had to warm-up before the match, and he was picking me up. It worked out in a way. I could wish the boys good luck and mess with Dylan's headspace a little before the game started.

Or, at least, that's what I assumed.

All I knew was that Corey had texted me last night a simple five-word message: Pick you up at 4.

I sent back a thumbs-up. Clearly, we were a very loving couple.

"Alright," I said, releasing a tight breath. "Here I go."

"You've got this," Georgie said, patting my shoulder. "Go get your man."

Rolling my eyes, I made my way out the door. As I expected, the air was chilly. Winter was still thawing and the wind bit at my exposed legs. I hated that I was wearing shorts. If it were up to me, I'd be in sweatpants, or tights at the very least.

My eyes landed on Corey immediately. He stood out wherever he went. Like I said, he had this air about him. And I was about to go intrude on it.

I marched towards him. He didn't notice me at first. He leaned against his Range Rover, because of course Corey Bishop just had to drive a Range Rover.

I mean, seriously? What kind of university student owned a Range Rover?

Corey Bishop, that's who.

It wasn't entirely surprising. I knew he was rich. His dad was a footy player back in the day, but more impressively, his mum was the CEO of some business-y consulting company.

None of that mattered anyway. Corey himself would probably be signed by the end of the semester and it would all be uphill for him from there.

"Let's go," I said as I neared him.

He glanced up from his phone screen. "Hello to you too."

I didn't laugh. He didn't either. He simply turned and slid into the driver's seat. I rounded the car, slipping into the passenger side.

Honestly, I was a little nervous. Dylan drove a simple Toyota, and I drove a hand-me-down Kia that had passed through the hands of both my older sisters, Skylar and Stella. I'd never stepped foot in such a fancy car before.

Even the leather seats were fancier than anything I'd sat on before.

He pressed a button, and the car came to life. I almost giggled with excitement. Almost.

Music began playing through the speakers. I lifted a brow at him, realising it was classical music.

"What is this, Mozart?"

"Vivaldi," he replied, eyes on the road as he pulled out of the university streets. "It gets me in the right headspace before a match."

"Huh."

The rest of the car ride passed in silence. Not that I minded. I kind of liked the classical music, and I was too busy looking at all the fancy buttons in his car. And yes, it did have seat warmers.

It was a short ride to the stadium. He drove through some side gates and showed a badge to the security guard there. Not that he needed to. He clearly recognised Corey and was already opening the boom gate before he even had the badge out.

He parked under the stadium, and I had to force myself to say goodbye to the beauty of his car. That was definitely one bonus of fake-dating Corey. Now I could say I had sat in a Range Rover. Take that, Dylan.

"Alright," I said, stepping out of the car. "Ready?"

He frowned at me. "You're not being serious."

"What are you talking about?"

"I told you to wear my jersey."

"I am!" I said, unzipping my jacket a few inches to reveal his navy and gold jersey underneath.

"Okay, you're not taking this seriously," he said, sighing heavily.

"Corey, I am being so serious right now. What is your problem?"

"We agreed that you would help distract Dylan!"

"And I'm here to do it!"

"No, you're not! Not dressed like that!"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I want you to think about your next words very carefully, Corey."

He blinked. Slowly, the frustration in his face seemed to seep away. His shoulders sagged and he released a tired breath.

"Sorry, I'm just—I get tense before matches," he said.

I pursed my lips. He was annoying, but I needed him. And, honestly, he was right.

Dylan spent a lot of time obsessing over his image, which meant he obsessed over my image. Sweatpants were banned from our outings together, especially for a big game like the first of the semester.

Besides, at nineteen, Dylan was a teenage boy. I wasn't going to act dense. I knew why Corey had asked me to wear shorts. It didn't mean I had to like it.

I sighed. "It's fine. What do you want me to do?"

He glanced at me, unsure. I lifted my arms, as if welcoming him to dress me like his own personal Barbie.

Slowly, he reached up, taking the zipper between his fingers and pulling it down. My heart swelled at the motion and I tore my eyes away, heat rising to my face.

He pulled my jacket off and dumped it into the backseat of his car. Then, he frowned at me, tapping his chin.

"I need you to show more leg," he said. "I thought I told you to wear shorts."

"These are shorts," I said. He stared me down. Sighing again, I gave in. I pulled the shorts higher, exposing my lower thighs.

"Higher," he said, still staring at me with that piercing gaze of his. I knew that expression. That was his game face. He was strategizing. I was only proven right when he muttered, "Dylan's a fan of legs."

"What is this, a reverse Pretty Woman?" I murmured back, hiking my shorts even higher. The hem of the shorts reached a centimetre below the jersey. "How's this?"

"Perfect," he said.

"Great, because I hope you know I'm going to be freezing my arse off all night for you."

His brows furrowed, like he hadn't even thought about that, and he turned, pulling something out of his backseat.

"Wear this," he said, tossing me his varsity jacket.

I blinked down at it. Sure, Dylan had leant me jerseys before, but never his varsity jacket. That was for him and him only—a sign of his elitism compared to other athletes. A head-turner for when he was walking down the street. Something to make people think "Oh, he must be better than me".

I pulled it on.

It was huge, but it was warm, and it smelt clean like Corey and linen sheets.

"Thanks," I said, my voice coming out bitter. He needed to stop being so nice to me, or it was going to be hard to dislike him.

"Come on," he replied, nodding towards the lifts. He led the way, greeting all kinds of men in suits as he walked.

I always considered myself tall, but Corey was Tall, capital T. His strides were long, and I felt like I had to jog to keep up.

We got into the lift, and I wiped my palms on my shirt. Why was I so nervous?

The thought of seeing Dylan again after all this time—and not only seeing him, but talking to him, and talking to Corey in front of him. There were so many ways this could go wrong.

"Hey," Corey said from beside me. He put an arm around me, and I almost wanted to twist out of his grip, but there was something comforting about it. He squeezed my arm once. "Calm down. It'll be alright."

"What if Dylan sees right through us straight away?" I didn't even realise I was worried about it until the words slipped from my mouth.

"He won't," Corey said. "I've got us."

I frowned. Instinct told me to doubt him, to run far away. Corey had never shown any sort of welcoming attitude to me before, and now I had to suddenly believe he had us?

But Corey had always been good at what he did, and a part of me knew I had chosen the right partner in crime.

I nodded but the nervousness refused to disappear.

"What time did you get here?" I asked quickly. "How did Dylan seem? How did everyone seem?"

"Sagely. Pull yourself together," he said, meeting my eye. "We got here an hour ago. Everyone's normal. We will be fine."

I nodded again, repeating his words in my head.

We will be fine.

The lift doors opened with a ding that made me jump.

The field was mostly empty, but I could see the Eastview team, the Wolves, preparing on the grass. On the far end, the opposing team was warming up too. Even the stands were beginning to fill up with spectators.

This was the biggest stadium I had seen them play at, and I knew it was all Corey's doing. Ever since he joined the team, they had only been going higher and higher up the ladder.

"Is there anything I need to know?" I asked quietly, the panic beginning to build up again. "Any family that will be in the stands? Girls?"

He snorted. "No girls. And no family either. My parents were busy."

I nodded. Got it. No girls, no family. I'd be in this alone. Well, until Georgie arrived. I was glad I wouldn't have to make small talk, lying to people in Corey's inner circle.

Well, other than all his teammates.

And, I guess, all of Eastview University.

Okay, now I was panicking.

"Calm down," he muttered as we stepped out onto the grass.

"Are you sure I should come out with you?" I asked. "Maybe I should just go straight to my seat."

"You're coming with me," he said, and that was final.

He led me towards his team who sat on the grass, stretching.

There was a total of fifteen people on the Wolves' team: thirteen players and two substitutes. Dylan was a substitute last semester. Now, here he was, ready to play.

Corey was right that Dylan would never replace him as captain, but he had gained the coaches' merit quick. It only took him a semester to get off the bench, and that had inflated his ego. He needed to be knocked down a peg—or twenty—before he did something stupid.

My eyes landed on him first.

He wasn't even stretching or warming up. No, he lay flat down on the grass, phone in hand, scrolling through Instagram.

And because he was lying flat on the grass, he didn't see us approaching.

Wes saw us first. I never really spoke to Wes before, but he seemed friendly enough. He was the type of boy who bounced from person to person, easily making friends with everyone he passed.

He was sitting up, legs folded in a stretch position. His eyes landed on Corey first.

"Corey!" he shouted, lifting a hand in a wave. "You're late. You said you'd be back in ten minutes."

"Sorry," Corey replied. "Had to pick up my girl."

My girl. God, the words made my stomach flip. I must have been lonelier than I thought after Dylan broke up with me. Pathetically lonely.

At his words, Wes' eyes fell to me. His brow furrowed before his gaze moved past me, like looking for this 'girl' that Corey spoke of. Then, realisation hit him, and his jaw dropped. Literally.

"Oh. Hey Sage," Wes said. I smiled tersely, waving from Corey's side.

"Give me a sec," Corey whispered, leaning down until his lips brushed my ear. He took my hand in his and squeezed it for extra measure.

My face grew hot. So, the act had begun.

Releasing my hand, Corey stepped forward to slap hands with Wes before he was moving to greet the two coaches of the team. He seemed as though he wanted to say a quick hello, but the coaches roped him into a conversation.

Great. Now I was alone, without the cover of Corey by my side.

Probably sensing my thoughts from where he stood, he glanced anxiously over his shoulder at me.

I didn't know what to do with myself now that I was alone. I rocked on my heels, playing with the sleeves of Corey's jacket.

"So, Sage," Wes began, probably sensing my discomfort. He had always been good at lightening the mood. "How's your semester going?"

"Not bad," I said. "I only had Physics 1A this week, so it's been pretty chill. I'm repeating it, so..."

"Sage?"

I turned at the sound of Dylan's voice. He was sitting up now, his eyes on me. They fell down to my bare legs, then, with great effort, back to my face.

I hated that Corey was right.

I lifted a hand. "Hey, Dylan."

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He stood to tower over me, his expression full of concern. "How did you get in? You know we broke up, right?"

"Yes, I know we broke up, Dylan," I said, rolling my eyes.

He blinked. "Okay, so..."

"So, I'm not here for you."

"Right," Dylan said, snorting like the idea was so insane. "Because you're clearly here for—"

"She's here with me." The heavy weight of Corey's arm landed around my shoulders as he pulled me into his side. He pressed a quick kiss to my cheek which I almost flinched away from, unused to having Corey's mouth so close to mine.

Dylan simply blinked again. "What?"

"I'm here with him," I said, finally finding my voice. I settled him with a pointed look, unable to stop a smirk from pulling at my lips. "I just wanted to wish you boys luck before the game."

With that, I turned to face Corey.

"Good luck, babe," I said.

His gaze flickered between my eyes, like sending a red alert. I attempted to send my own message back.

Here goes nothing.

I leaned forward, pressing my lips against Corey's.

Corey must have received my message because he responded immediately, arms snaking around my waist as he leaned into the kiss. It was quick, just lips against lips. A kiss by dictionary definition, nothing else.

And yet, as my eyes fluttered shut, my stomach flipped. I hadn't been kissed since the break-up, and man this was a good start.

I couldn't help but compare it to Dylan. Corey's lips were bigger, softer. Even in this barebones kiss, I felt myself leaning closer, a part of me wanting to see if I held this kiss for a few seconds longer, where would this go?

But ration won over and I stepped back, trying my best to keep my eyes on Corey's.

He played the part well, his fingers delicately stationed at my waist, his gaze dark and focused on me.

"Good luck," I said, my voice coming out a bit too breathless for my own liking. "Make sure you win."

Corey nodded and I let my eyes finally drift over to catch Dylan's reaction. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed in a thin line. I couldn't tell if he was pissed, or sceptical. Either way, I didn't want to stick around to find out.

"Let me walk you to the stands," Corey said, giving me a chance to escape.

"Good luck, Dylan," I said at last, shooting him a smile that hopefully said I'm watching you. He nodded once and I hoped that would be enough to play on his psyche, at least a little.

Corey's hand never left my side as we crossed the grass. I tried desperately to keep a smile on my face, knowing anyone could be watching us.

"I got you seats in the front," he muttered, his lips barely moving.

I shot him a look, my smile faltering. "Excuse me?"

"You're supposed to thank me."

"Thank you? I got my own seats, thank you very much. I'm sitting with my friend."

"No, you're not," Corey said. His grip grew tight on my waist. "You're going to sit in the front row and you're going to take that jacket off when Dylan's got the ball, and you're going to distract him."

"I can distract him from my seat."

"How is he going to see you from up there, Sage?" Corey exclaimed. He sighed, lowering his voice. "We had a deal."

I frowned, searching his eyes. He had played along with the kiss and all...

"Fine," I muttered. "But Georgie gets to sit with me."

"Georgie?"

"My friend."

A vein in Corey's forehead seemed to throb. He released my waist with an exasperated flick of his hand. "Whatever. I'll see you later."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, Corey was used to getting what he wanted. Instead, I plastered a tight smile onto my face.

"Good luck, boyfriend," I said, tilting my head. His eyes narrowed an inch. Without another word, he turned and jogged back into the field.

"Arsehole," I muttered, turning towards the seat he had pointed out for me.

It was like he said. He'd gotten me the best seats in the stadium, right up close and personal.

In the distance, the music blasting over the stadium speakers faded out and someone blew a whistle. I watched as the two teams lined up, the referee coming to stand in the middle.

From here, I could see Corey's face change. His eyes stayed focused on the players in front of him, his body positioned to play.

Dylan, a few metres from him, was also in position. If I hadn't been looking, I might have missed it, but there—just for a second—his eyes flickered in my direction, and his hands wavered.

The ref blew the whistle, and they were off.

This was going to be a long game.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi guys! Sorry I vanished for a while, I was finishing off my other story Bruised before the Watty's deadline! (which, by the way, you all should definitely read hehe)

I hope you loved this chapter! Please let me know what you thought and what you're hoping to see! See you next time!

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