The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback (Astra and Zayne) novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13

ASTRA

My legs felt like jelly as I watched Zane jog back toward the locker room.

President.

85 Duchers

The word still sounded fake in my head. I clutched my notebook tighter against my chest and tried to steady my breathing. The football players were still staring, some smirking, some looking genuinely confused and I wanted to melt into the bleachers.

Coach Benson waved me over. “Hawthorne, come down here for a minute.”

I descended the metal steps on shaky legs. When I reached the field, he placed a friendly hand on my shoulder.

“Good job staying calm up there. The team can be… a lot.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “The Athletics Committee is waiting for you in the small conference room behind the gym. I’ll walk you over and introduce you properly.”

I nodded quickly, grateful I didn’t have to find it myself. “Thank you, Coach.”

We walked across the field in silence. My plaid skirt swished against my thick thighs with every step, and I was painfully aware of how my cardigan stretched over my chest. I kept my head slightly down, hoping no one else was still watching.

The conference room was small but nice, a long/table, a whiteboard, and posters of past championship teams on the walls. Three girls were already seated, notebooks and laptops open in front of them.

Coach cleared his throat. “Ladies, this is Astra Hawthorne, your new Athletics Committee President.”

All three heads turned toward me.

A tall, pretty brunette with perfect curls stood up first, offering me a warm smile. “Hi, I’m Elizabeth. I was Vice President under the last guy. Basically, I handle scheduling, meeting notes, and keep everyone on track,”

She seemed genuinely nice, confident without being intimidating. I liked her immediately.

Next to her, a petite Asian girl with glasses and a bright pink headband waved. “I’m Priya. I manage the committee’s social media, design all the posters and banners for pep rallies, and coordinate with the cheer squad for game–day themes.”

The third girl, a quiet redhead named Chloe, gave a small wave. “I mostly help with equipment inventory and ordering supplies.”

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Elizabeth stepped forward and shook my hand. “We’re really glad you’re taking over. The last president was very football–focused, if you know what I mean.”

I let out a nervous laugh, my cheeks heating up. “I’m… honestly little overwhelmed. I don’t know much about sports, especially football, but I’m really excited to work with all of you. I’ll do my best not to mess anything up.

My face was probably bright red, but I meant every word.

Elizabeth grinned. “You’ll be fine. We’ve got your back. First official meeting is tomorrow after school, we’ll go over the current schedule and what needs to be done before Friday’s home game.”

Priya leaned in excitedly. “We’re thinking of a new student section theme. You have any ideas?”

I blinked, surprised they were already including me. “Um… maybe something with school colors and… glow sticks? For night games?”

Priya’s eyes lit up. “I love that!”

The coach chuckled. “I’ll leave you all to it. Hawthorne, if you need anything, you can come to me.”

As soon as Coach left, the girls started chatting easily, pulling me into their conversation. For the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel completely out of place. Nervous? Yes. Terrified of messing up? Absolutely.

But also… hopeful.

I had an actual role here. People who weren’t trying to destroy me.

At least for now.

*****

11006

The hospital smelled the same as always, antiseptic, stale coffee, and something faintly floral from the cleaning solution they used. I clutched the plastic bag with two takeout containers of chicken fried rice and spring rolls tighter as I walked down the familiar hallway.

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Mom was sitting up in bed when I entered, staring out the window. Her eyes lit up the second she

saw me.

“Astra, my baby!”

She still knew me today. Relief hit me so hard my knees almost buckled.

“Hi, Mom.” I smiled wide and set the bag on the bedside table. “I brought your favorite. Extra crispy spring rolls.”

I climbed onto the bed beside her like I used to when I was little, careful not to jostle her IV. She wrapped her thin arms around me, and for a moment everything felt normal.

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I have so much to tell you,” I said, voice bubbling with excitement I hadn’t felt in forever. “First… I got a new job. A really good one. I’m living with a family now as their nanny for two little boys. They’re sweet, Mom. The house is huge and they pay really well. I can finally clear some of our debt.”

Her eyes widened, then softened with pride. “My strong girl… always figuring things out.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and kept going.

“And today at school… they made me Athletics Committee President. Me. The actual president. I’ll be helping with football games and pep rallies and everything. I even have a small team working with me.”

Mom’s hand trembled slightly as she reached up to cup my cheek. Her eyes shimmered with tears.

“Oh, Astra… I’m so proud of you. So, so proud.” Her voice cracked. “You carry so much on your shoulders. Too much for one girl. You should be worrying about prom and boys and silly things…. not hospital bills and raising other people’s children.”

I shook my head quickly, blinking back my own tears. “It’s fine, Mom. Really. I’m okay. This job is helping us. And being president… it feels good. Like I’m finally doing something that matters at school.”

We opened the food and ate together, laughing softly when I told her about Lucas’s endless questions and how Mason pretended not to like me but still slid me the best piece of toast at breakfast. For almost an hour, we were just mother and daughter again, teasing, reminiscing, stealing spring rolls from each other’s containers/

But at the back of my mind, the fear never left.

She forgot my name for a few seconds earlier, her hands shook more than last week. The doctor’s words from before kept echoing: *accelerating… more confusion episodes….*

I pushed it down. Not today. Today I wanted to hold onto this moment.

When visiting hours ended, I hugged her tight, breathing in her familiar scent.

“I’ll come tomorrow after school, okay? I promise.”

She kissed my forehead. “Be safe, my love. And don’t forget to live a little for yourself too.”

I nodded, throat tight, and left before the tears could fall.

I stopped by the nurses‘ station to ask for Dr. Ray, but the nurse shook her head. “He’s off today, honey. Back tomorrow afternoon.”

Disappointed but not surprised, I headed out into the evening.

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The gas station was only two blocks from the hospital. Since I didn’t have the scooter with me, I bought a bright red two–gallon gas can and filled it up. It was heavier than I expected, but I didn’t care. I carried it carefully back toward the bus stop, the plastic handle digging into my fingers.

Even with the weight of the gas can, I felt… light.

For the first time in what felt like forever, good things were happening.

A well–paying job. A title at school. Money in my account to start chipping away at Mom’s bills. And today she had a really good day.

I caught my reflection in the bus window – tired eyes, messy bun, but smiling.

Maybe things were finally turning around.

I just had to hold on tight enough so they wouldn’t slip away.

“Hahahaha,” I laughed as Lucas dramatically flopped onto the rug like he’d been shot.

“You killed me, Astra! I’m dead. Tell Mom I loved her!”

I was sitting cross–legged on the floor of the twins‘ playroom, sketchbook open on my lap. Their homework was done (I’d finished mine at the same time, multitasking like a pro), and my school bag was stacked neatly by the door.

“Alright, dead boy,” I teased, “get up so I can finish your character.”

Lucas scrambled back up, eyes sparkling as he watched me shade the little cartoon version of him riding a dragon. I’d drawn both twins as anime–style heroes, Lucas with wild hair and a big grin, Mason looking cool and serious with a sword. The drawings were detailed, full of movement and personality. I’d always been good at this kind of animated style, but I rarely showed anyone.

Mason sat quietly on the beanbag, watching but not saying much. He was harder to read than

ľ

Lucas.

The door suddenly swung open.

“Zaneee!” Lucas shouted, launching himself off the floor and barreling straight into his older brother.

I froze, brush still hovering over the paper.

Before I could turn around, Lucas was tugging Zane’s hand. “Zane, look! Look what Astra drew for me! She made me a dragon rider! Isn’t it cool?!”

My face instantly heated. I slowly turned on the rug, sketchbook still in my lap.

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Laue stood in the doorway, one hand casually resting on Lucas’s head. His green eyes dropped to the open page. For a long second he just stared at the drawing, the dynamic lines, the shading, the way I’d captured Lucas’s energy perfectly.

My stomach twisted. I braced myself for the sneer, the “Trash–tra” comment, the mockery about how I was wasting time on “stupid drawings.”

Instead, something unreadable flickered across his face,

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