The Quarterback's Favorite Girl

The Quarterback's Favorite Girl

Ezinneamaka Faustina Okennwa · Ongoing · 43.5k Words

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Introduction

Avery Bennett has spent three years perfecting invisibility at Ridgemont Elite Academy. Scholarship student, plus-size coding genius, daughter of a housekeeper. She keeps her head down, aces every class, and builds apps at four in the morning because a tech company of her own is the only way out of the life she and her mother are barely holding together.
One night at the senior welcome party, Madison Thorne dismantles everything in ninety seconds. The video goes viral before Avery gets home. Four hundred thousand strangers decide what her body and her poverty say about her worth, and Avery wakes up the next morning with nothing left to hide behind.
Then her mother takes a live-in position at the Ryder estate and Avery moves into the last place on earth she wants to be. Jaxon Ryder's house. Campus king, star quarterback, the boy who watched her humiliation from ten feet away and called it an inconvenience.
Forced proximity turns into midnight kitchens and stolen silences and a boy who starts noticing things he was never supposed to notice. Jaxon falls first. Avery rebuilds herself from the ground up. And when he finally chooses her, she has to decide whether he deserves the person she became after he let her break.
Senior year was supposed to be survival. It becomes something else entirely.

Chapter 1

Avery's POV

Madison Thorne stepped into my path before I got three steps inside the door.

"Well, well. The scholarship infestation has arrived."

Four girls spread out behind her. Gold dress, expensive perfume, a smile she'd already decided on. The ballroom was packed behind them. Chandeliers. Marble. Two hundred seniors in silk. None of it mattered. Madison had locked onto me like I was the only thing worth destroying tonight.

I kept walking. "Love what you've done with your face. Did the filler settle?"

Shock moved through the group. I felt it without looking.

She stepped into my path again. "Still in the thrift store dress? I saw that exact one on a woman outside the pharmacy last week."

"Then she had excellent taste."

"I heard your mother started cleaning for the Ryders." Her voice dropped, just between us. "Mopping their floors. Scrubbing their toilets. How does it feel, knowing your family survives by wiping up after people who actually matter?"

My mother had taken the job three weeks ago. She came home with red-rimmed eyes and told me it was temporary. I hadn't told anyone at school. I hadn't thought I needed to.

"At least my mother works for a living." I held her eyes. "What do you do, Madison? Besides spending your father's money and peaking at eighteen?"

Her smile came back wider than before. That was when I knew I'd made a mistake.

A phone appeared somewhere in the crowd. Her girls closed into a half circle behind me. The people pretending not to watch stopped pretending. The string quartet kept playing. Nobody looked at them anymore.

"She thinks she's too good for us." Madison's voice carried now, pitched for the room. "Little Miss Coding Genius. The fat scholarship girl who builds video games in her bedroom because she can't afford to go anywhere real."

Laughter from the nearest cluster. Then wider. It spread through the crowd like something catching fire.

"She lives in a shed. Her mother's bedroom is a converted closet. They share a bathroom with their landlord."

None of it was true. It didn't matter. I stood at the center of it, hands pressed flat against my thighs, jaw locked. My throat was doing something I refused to let it finish.

Not here. Not in front of them.

"Excuse me."

The voice came from behind the circle. Calm. Not loud. The crowd shifted before I even turned around.

Jaxon Ryder walked through like the space had cleared just for him. Six foot three. Dark jacket. Pale gray eyes already done with all of it. He stopped between me and Madison and didn't look at either of us for more than a second.

I noticed how good-looking he was. I hated that I noticed.

"Thorne. Party's that way."

"Jaxon, I was just..."

"Leaving." He stepped forward. The crowd stepped back with him. "Go on."

Madison flipped her hair. She laughed like nothing had happened and walked off. Her girls followed. The circle broke apart. The quartet filled the silence back in like it had never left.

I stared at the floor and breathed.

"You okay?"

I looked up. He had a slight frown, like I was a problem he hadn't signed up for.

"I didn't need your help."

"Didn't say you did."

"Then why."

"She was getting loud. I share a locker room with half those guys." A shrug. "Wasn't about you."

"Thanks for the rescue, quarterback." I turned. "I'll try to be less inconvenient next time."

I walked off before he could answer. Behind me, a short breath out. Then nothing.

I found the dessert table. I ate a cheesecake because I'd earned it. I counted down to 9:45. The cold air hit my face the second I stepped outside. I pulled out my phone to call a ride.

The notifications were already flooding in.

Instagram. TikTok. Snapchat. Group chats I'd never been added to, all going off at once. The video was up. The whole thing. Madison performing. The crowd laughing. My face while everyone pressed in close. The view count kept climbing.

Sixty thousand. Seventy-eight thousand. Ninety-three thousand.

Charity case thinking she belongs here.

Someone get this girl a diet plan.

Wait is she actually living in a shed??

I locked my phone. I breathed. I unlocked it.

One hundred twelve thousand views.

My mom was going to see this. My teachers. The scholarship committee. Everyone who'd ever signed a document for me was going to watch my face freeze in that moment while strangers picked me apart in the comments.

I sat down on the cold pavement outside the ballroom. I didn't get back up. Three years of staying invisible. Three years of being careful. Ninety seconds had wrecked all of it.

My phone buzzed.

Mom: Baby I just saw it. Leaving now. 10 minutes.

She was supposed to be working at the Ryder mansion right now. That meant she'd been checking her phone between rooms. She'd seen every comment anyway. Every laughing emoji. Every stranger deciding what I was worth from a sixty-second clip.

I stopped fighting it.

Her Honda pulled in nine minutes later. No words. Just an unlocked door and her arms around me. The hug smelled like lemon cleaner and a long shift.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't." Both hands on my face. Her eyes were wet but steady. "You stood up for yourself. I did not raise a girl who stands there and takes it."

The drive home was quiet. I went inside. I changed into my oldest sweatshirt. I lay on my back in the dark.

Two hundred thirty thousand views. Someone had already made a meme out of my face.

I turned off my phone. I let myself cry. Three years of careful, and one night had been enough to erase it.

By morning, it was going to get worse.

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