Alex didn't usually sign up for things. He didn't like sports; he didn't like talent shows; he didn't like plays.
But what if there's a sign-up sheet for your crush's football team?
Crashing into science class like a dinosaur with a hangover, Alex slid beside Silas and whispered, "How do you play football?"
Silas started. "Why?"
"Um. No reason?"
Silas stared at him. Alex gulped.
"Quit talking and start working," barked the teacher.
Strapping on his safety goggles and gloves, Alex continued in a soft voice, "Someone throws the ball, yes?" Silas grimaced. "And then someone else catches it and runs to the other side of the field and they score a point, right?"
Silas sighed, sorting the test tubes into the rack. "You obviously don't understand the basics of football. I can come over to your house to teach you."
Alex whipped around. "What? No, no, no, no, no." He paused. "Fine."
"Friday?"
"Friday."
Walking back home, Alex wondered if he had said the right thing. Sure, the prospect of Silas over at his house was making him giddy, but would Silas be okay with his parents?
Alex entered his house still deep in thought to the intoxicating smell of Scandinavian cooking. He stepped into the kitchen, where his mother was stirring a pan.
"Hey, Jen."
His mother turned around with a big smile on her face. "Hey, Alex! How was your day?"
"Terrible. You?"
"Same. Go tell Sara dinner's ready, please."
Alex walked into the office, where his other mother, Sara, was typing.
"Supper's ready."
Sara smiled at him. "Got it, kiddo. Go tell your mom thank you."
Alex smiled back and walked away.
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