The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback (Astra and Zayne) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

ASTRA

I barely slept.

Every single time I closed my eyes, my brain replayed yesterday like some cruel highlight reel.

Zane pinning Brock against the bleachers.

Zane grabbing my waist in the hallway.

Zane holding me against his chest under the streetlight while my heart tried to explode out of my ribs.

You’re mine to break, Trash-tra.

I groaned softly into my pillow and pulled the blanket over my face.

What was wrong with me?

I should’ve been terrified.

Instead, my stupid brain kept replaying the way his hand felt on my waist. The way his voice dropped lower when he was angry. The way he looked at me like he wanted to choke me and kiss me at the same time.

It was deeply concerning.

And now I was exhausted.

By the time I dragged myself into Harrington Academy Tuesday morning, I was running purely on caffeine and emotional confusion.

The campus was already buzzing.

Students crowded the front steps in their navy-and-silver uniforms, voices overlapping loudly as Homecoming banners fluttered between the stone buildings.

SPIRIT WEEK STARTS MONDAY!

BEAT WESTBROOK!

AWAY GAME FRIDAY!

I adjusted the folders in my arms and hurried toward the student activity wing, trying not to think about how every other conversation seemed to involve my name.

“Did you hear Ashton almost killed Brock?”

“I swear he’s obsessed with Hawthorne now.”

“Maya looked like she wanted to commit murder yesterday…”

My cheeks burned hotter with every whisper.

Fantastic.

Exactly what I needed.

Chapter 38

More public humiliation.

I pushed through the doors into the Athletic Committee room and immediately regretted existing.

Chaos.

Absolute chaos.

Half-finished posters covered the tables. Glitter somehow coated the floor already even though it was only Tuesday morning. Someone was arguing near the whiteboard. Two cheerleaders were loudly debating balloon colors like national” security depended on it.

“Astra!” Priya spotted me instantly and rushed over holding three clipboards. “Thank God you’re here. The football team changed practice times again, cheer wants different banner colors, and Coach Daniels says we still don’t have enough volunteers for Friday’s concession stands.”

I blinked slowly.

“Good morning to you too.”

She shoved one clipboard into my arms. “It gets worse.”

Of course it did.

I dropped my bag onto the nearest chair and immediately slipped into work mode.

“Okay,” I said, pushing exhaustion aside. “One disaster at a time. What happened with transportation?”

“The second bus company canceled.”

“Fantastic.”

“And the mascot costume ripped.”

I stared at her.

“…How?”

“No one knows.”

I sighed deeply and rubbed my temple.

This was my life now.

Around me, committee members scrambled between tables cutting banners, organizing schedules, and arguing over Homecoming themes. The room smelled like coffee, markers, and stress.

Honestly?

It almost distracted me from Zane.

Almost.

Until the room suddenly went quieter.

Not silent.

Just… aware.

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Chapter 38

My stomach dropped immediately.

I didn’t even need to turn around.

I felt him.

That heavy, intetise presence that somehow filled every room before he even spoke.

Football players walked in behind him carrying equipment bags and energy drinks. Loud. Confident. Untouchable.

And right in the center of them…..

Zane Ashton.

Black Harrington hoodie. Messy dark hair. Hands shoved into his pockets like he owned the school.

Which, honestly, he kind of did.

My pulse immediately betrayed me.

Traitor.

His green eyes found me instantly across the room.

Locked.

Held.

And didn’t let go.

I forgot what Priya was saying mid-sentence.

Because suddenly all I could think about was:

his arm around my waist

his voice against my temple

Good girl.

the way he looked at me while I ate that stupid pastry

God.

I needed therapy.

Zane’s gaze dragged slowly over me like he was checking every inch of me was still there.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Then, without saying a word, he looked away.

Just like that.

The football players spread through the room immediately, loud voices mixing with the committee chaos.

Tyler stole a donut from one of the tables. “Why do these meetings always smell like glue and suffering?”

“Because you people create suffering.” Priya snapped without looking up from her clipboard.

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Cristiano dropped into a chair backwards beside one of the banner tables. “Coach said we need final travel schedules today or he’s gonna lose his mind.”

“That makes two of us,” I muttered under my breath.

No one heard me except Priya, who snorted tiredly.

I moved toward the whiteboard quickly before my brain could keep spiraling about Zane. Work. Focus on work.

“Okay!” I clapped my hands loudly enough to cut through the room noise. “Listen up for a second!”

Gradually, conversations died down.

Even the football players looked over.

Unfortunately… so did Zane.

I ignored the flutter in my stomach and grabbed a marker.

“So. Current disasters.” I started writing quickly on the board.

AWAY GAME – FRIDAY

SPIRIT WEEK – MONDAY

PEP RALLY – THURSDAY

“Transportation is a mess,” I continued. “One of the bus companies canceled, which means we’re short a bus for Friday unless we figure something out today.”

A few groans echoed through the room.

“The mascot costume ripped,” Priya added dramatically.

Tyler looked horrified. “No.”

“Yes.”

“How bad?”

Priya stared at him blankly. “The wolf’s head literally came off.”

The room erupted into laughter.

Even I laughed a little.

Across the room, I caught the corner of Zane’s mouth twitching before he looked away again.

Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

I quickly focused back on the whiteboard.

“We also still need volunteers for concession stands during the away game, and Spirit Week decorations need to be finished by Thursday afternoon.”

A cheerleader raised her hand. “Can football help with setup after practice?”

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Before I could answer, Cristiano groaned loudly. “We already practice for like three hours.”

“You also eat all the fundraiser snacks,” Priya shot back.

“That’s unrelated.”

“It’s literally related.”

I rubbed my temple again.

This school was exhausting.

“Okay,” I interrupted before another argument started. “Football players help Wednesday after practice for one hour. No complaining.”

Tyler looked personally offended. “This is oppression.”

“Survive.”

A few people laughed.

I moved toward the schedule table, flipping through papers while students started splitting into smaller discussion groups again.

Someone needed paint supplies approved.

Someone else needed cheer uniforms signed out.

The dance committee wanted budget changes.

Honestly, the whole thing felt like running a tiny dysfunctional government.

And somehow?

I was good at it.

Even exhausted, I knew exactly where things were supposed to go. Who handled what. Which problems mattered first.

It made me forget myself for a little while.

Forget Zane.

Until I felt someone stop beside me.

Not touching.

Just there.

Large. Warm. Familiar.

My pulse immediately jumped.

I kept my eyes stubbornly on the paperwork in front of me.

“What?” I asked quietly.

Silence.

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I glanced down.

Volunteer sign-up sheet.

Already filled out.

My brows furrowed slightly.

At the top: Zane Ashton.

Under volunteer section: Banner setup – Wednesday

Equipment transport – Friday morning

Post-game cleanup

I blinked.

Slowly looked up.

a

Zane had already started walking away again, hands shoved into his hoodie pocket like nothing happened.

Tyler stared after him in horror.

“… Bro voluntarily signed up for cleanup?”

The entire room went silent for two seconds.

Cristiano looked genuinely disturbed. “Who are you and what did you do with Ashton?”

Heat crept up my cheeks before I could stop it.

Because Zane never volunteered for anything.

The room stayed stunned for a solid five seconds after Zane walked away from the volunteer sheet.

Tyler was still staring at the paper like it had personally betrayed him.

“Bro… you “volunteered”?” he called after Zane. “For cleanup? Are you dying? Is this a cry for help?”

Cristiano looked genuinely concerned. “Did someone hit you in the head during practice?”

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Zane didn’t even turn around. He just raised a middle finger lazily over his shoulder and kept walking toward the football players gathered near the door.

I stood there, heart still doing stupid little flips, trying to act normal as I scribbled notes on the schedule.

Priya leaned closer to me, whispering, “Okay… what is “that” about?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, cheeks warm. “He’s probably just messing with me.”

But even I didn’t fully believe it anymore.

The football team started filing out a few minutes later, loud and chaotic as always. Zane was the last one to leave. He paused at the doorway, green eyes finding me across the room one more time.