I nudge his head away, trying to keep my composure. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
For some reason, I can still hear the humor in his voice when he says, “Okay, let’s do it this way.” He gently forces me to face him, and his tone shifts to something more serious.
“Look… I can’t let you drive a bunch of people. And it’s not just that I think you’re a bad driver, it’s also not ideal. But Salem is only thirty minutes from Wesley, where our next game is. We leave Friday, and your debate is Saturday.”
I squint at him, trying to read whether he’s serious or just teasing me. “Are you saying…”
“I’m saying your team can ride with us on our bus,” he finishes, a small triumphant grin tugging at his lips. “I’ll talk to Coach, I’m sure he won’t have any issue with it. And I don’t mean to be cocky,
