The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback (Astra and Zayne) novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12

ZANE

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Practice was brutal today./Coach had us running suicides until my lungs burned and my legs felt like lead. I wiped sweat from my eyes with the bottom of my practice jersey, breathing hard as we huddled up near the sideline.

“Alright, listen up!” Coach Benson called, clapping his hands twice to get everyone’s attention. The team quieted down, helmets tucked under arms. “Quick announcement before we wrap up.”

I leaned on my helmet, barely paying attention. My mind was still stuck on Astra this morning and how she’d bolted from my car like I was fucking radioactive. The way she wouldn’t even look at me.

“Effective immediately,” Coach continued, “we have a new Athletics Committee President.”

A few guys chuckled.

Coach pointed toward the bleachers. “Astra Hawthorne. Stand up if you’re here.”

My head snapped up so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

There she was, sitting on the lower bleachers with a notebook in her lap, looking small and out of place in her uniform. Her blonde hair was pulled back, glasses slightly crooked, cheeks flushed like she wanted the ground to swallow her.

The entire football team turned to stare.

Tyler whistled low. “Wait… Trash–tra? Our new president?”

Jax barked out a laugh. “No fucking way.”

I felt my jaw lock tight. Heat crawled up my neck.

Coach kept talking, oblivious. “Miss Hawthorne has excellent grades and no bias toward any team. I expect you all to treat her with respect. She’ll be at practices sometimes and at every home game. If you need something for the team, new pads, better water coolers, whatever, you go through her. Understood?”

A couple of the guys muttered “yes coach,” but most were still staring at Astra like she’d grown a second head.

Maya, who had been watching from the sidelines with the other cheerleaders, looked like she’d swallowed acid. Her glare could’ve cut glass.

I couldn’t stop staring at Astra.

President.

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11:31 am

Chapter 12-

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she was going to be around my team. Around me. Every fucking practice. Every game. Officially.

Something dark and ugly twisted in my chest.

She finally stood up, clutching her notebook to her chest like a shield. Her voice was quiet but steady when she spoke. “Hi… um, I’m looking forward to working with everyone. I’ll do my best.”

A few of the nicer guys clapped politely. Tyler and Jax were still smirking like this was the funniest shit they’d ever heard.

Coach nodded. “Good. Now hit the showers. We’ve got film tomorrow.”

As the team started heading toward the locker room, I stayed rooted in place, eyes locked on her.

Astra’s gaze flicked up and met mine across the field.

For a second, everything else disappeared. The smirk I usually wore around her faltered. She looked… different. Nervous, yeah. But there was something else in her eyes, a tiny spark of pride.

It pissed me off.

She thought she could just insert herself into my world? Get a fancy title? Act like she belonged here?

I started walking straight toward the bleachers, ignoring the guys calling my name. My shoulder pads were still on, cleats digging into the grass.

Astra’s eyes widened. She took one step back, then stopped, lifting her chin like she was bracing for impact.

When I reached her, I towered over her, voice low enough that only she could hear.

“President Hawthorne,” I said, the title sounding like a threat on my tongue. “Didn’t know you were such a team player.”

Her throat bobbed. “It’s just a job, Zane.”

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I stepped closer, close enough that my practice jersey nearly brushed her cardigan. “Everything you do is my business now. You understand that?”

Her cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn’t look away.

Before she could answer, Coach yelled from the field, “Ashton! Locker room! Now!”

I didn’t move for another second, letting my eyes drag over her, the way her uniform hugged her full curves, the nervous way she clutched that notebook like it could protect her from me.

Then I smirked, “See you at the first home game, President.”

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11:31 am Pp

Chapter 19

tuned and jogged toward the locker room, blood boiling hotter than it had all practice.

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The guys were already half–undressed, laughing and shoving each other when I slammed through the door. The second they saw my face, the energy shifted.

Tyler grinned like a shark. “Bro. Trash–tra is our new boss? This is the best shit I’ve heard all year.”

Jax clapped me on the shoulder, still in his pads. “You gonna let her order you around, Captain? ‘Zane, fetch the water bottles. Zane, make the team do extra laps.“”

Laughter exploded around the room.

I ripped my jersey off, jaw tight. “She’s not ordering me around shit.”

But the image wouldn’t leave my head, Astra standing on the sidelines at games, watching me play, wearing that little “President” badge like she belonged in my world.

Maya pushed her way into the locker room (she always did, the coach looked the other way for her) and immediately wrapped herself around my arm.

“Babe, you’re not actually okay with this, right?” she purred, but her nails dug into my bicep. “That girl is a walking joke. She’s going to embarrass the whole team.”

I shrugged her off harder than I meant to. “It’s not my call.”

Maya’s eyes flashed with hurt and anger, but I didn’t care.

She stepped closer anyway, pressing her body against mine, one hand sliding up to rub slow circles over my chest like she could soothe the tension/out of me.

“But baby…” she cooed, voice sweet and manipulative, “you can definitely talk to your dad. He’ll make one call to the school board and they’ll get rid of her. Or at least put someone normal in that position. You know he will. Just say the word.”

The second she mentioned my father, my entire body stiffened.

My jaw clenched so hard it ached. The locker room noise faded into the background. I grabbed her wrist, stopping her hand from moving any higher.

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