Students of the Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

ring binder, with the other casually stuck in the front pocket of his jeans. The light blue featherweight shirt he’s wearing accentuates the turquoise of his eyes even more. Bryce’s massive body makes me feel small and feminine, an uncomfortable feeling that I’m not used too.
    “That’s alright. It won’t be necessary. Really…I get to add this to my college resume, anyway.” I use a tone that implies that the subject is closed.
    “Suit yourself,” he shrugs. Before I can protest, Bryce grabs the backpack I was supporting on my forearm, throws it over his shoulder, then starts to walk towards my front porch. I sigh in defeat and speed up to catch his pace. We pause in an awkward silence while I unlo ck the door. I let him in first then shut it behind me.
    “It’s so different now,” Bryce says, as he follows me through to the kitchen.
    I pause with my back facing him, “What is?”
    “Your house…It’s changed a lot.”
    “Well, what do you expect? My mom’s an interior designer.” I gesture for him to sit on one of the dinning table’s mile long benches.
    “I know that. It’s just strange to remember something a certain way and then find that it’s changed.”
    “Yes, it is,” I acknowledge coolly, and slide into in my dad’s old seat at the head of our wooden plank table. I always wondered why my mom kept such a huge table after Dad died. I know they bought it with the intention of wanting a large family, but the three of us probably just look pathetic sitting at it now. Maybe that’s why we all have an unspoken understanding with the breakfast bar.
    “Alright, let me see your binder so I can see what you’ve taken for notes.” I reach over and grab it. Setting it down in front of me, I’m about to open it when I hear the school bus stop in front of the house. Moments later, Devon comes through the front door. He heads right for the kitchen and looks slightly weirded out to see Bryce sitting there.
    “Um…Hey guys,” he says, grabbing an apple from the fridge.
    “Devon, what’s up? How’s the trumpeting going?” Bryce straddles the bench so he’s facing him.
    I glance at him, surprised that he even knows Devon is in the marching band. 
    “Band’s good. We’re starting to work on More Than a Feeling .  I think it’s gonna be pretty epic,” he replies, as if they have these chatty encounters all the time.
    Itching to get started I cut in, “Um, Dev? There’s nothing I love more than an epic Boston song, but we really need to get going here.”
    “Oh, right…sorry. Later, Bryce.” He raises his apple in the air and takes off into the depths of the house.
    Bryce laughs and turns back around. I finally start to examine his notes on…I look down at the header, World War I. Really ? I studied this sophomore year. I guess the AP classes do move fast.
    Suddenly my mom comes bounding through the back door. Seriously, does everyone have to come see Bryce as if he’s an exotic zoo animal on display? She knows that he was coming over today, and I thought maybe she’d stay away after our little quarrel yesterday. Even though she knew he’d be here, my mom still acts surprised. She tosses her purse on the bar, and stops dead in her tracks. “Bryce Colton! Look at you all grown up! How are you?” She walks past the bar and approaches the table. Bryce stands up so she can give him a hug and quick pat on the back.
    “I’m good, Mrs. A. Thanks,” he replies. First Ms. H, now Mrs. A? Well, at least I don’t have to teach him the damn alphabet.
    Bryce continues, “I’ve seen you at some the games sitting with my dad, I’m sorry that I haven’t had a chance to say hello. You’re always gone by the time I can make my way over.”
        “Oh, that’s alright. Devon is pretty impatient to get out of there as soon as the game ends. He’s not much for postgame celebration.” My mom smiles and heads over to the dishwasher, the little green light indicating it’s clean and