“What’s going on, Campbell?!”

I groan at the voice and put the marshmallows down. Stacia frowns. “I thought we needed those.”

“I need my hands free for this,” I say, turning to the tall man walking towards me. He’s dressed in gray athletic sweats, a black whistle hanging on his neck. Coach Jonas Duke from Central, the bane of my existence. I put my hands on my hips and stand my ground.

“My name is Meg,” I say, scowling up at him.

He grins, his teeth even and white. “Oh I know your name. You’re just the enemy.” His hair black swoops just into his eyes, if you like that sort of thing.

I roll my eyes at him and his boy band hair. “It’s girls volleyball, not war. Get a grip.”

He grins at me again and his eyes twinkle. They actually freaking twinkle. “All’s fair in love and war.”

“Again — It’s middle school volleyball. Not love. Not war,” I grind out. Stacia’s head follows us like a tennis match.

“Whatever you say,” he says, his eyes on my face.

I can feel the blush creeping up my neck. It’s like he’s Superman with x-ray vision. “Besides, I bite out, flustered. “If it was war, you’d be a dead man for that call in the last game.”

He holds his hands up, offended. “Come on! That was on the ref not me!”

“You saw it and I know it. That ball was out.” I’m pointing at his chest. Other people in in aisle are staring, but I don’t care.

He shrugs his shoulders, an innocent look on his face, but I still see the infuriating twinkle. “Who am I to argue with the ref?”

I narrow my eyes. “You, sir, are an ass.”

Stacia nudges me. “Meg!” she hisses.

I ignore her. Jonas just grins again. The term grinning idiot was made for him.

I shake my head in annoyance. “Whatever Jonas.” I point to the cart. “We have places to be.”

“As do I.” He tips his cap to Stacia and continues down the aisle, whistling. God, I hate him. I throw the marshmallows in the cart so hard they bounce.

Stacia pokes me. “I can’t believe you were so mean to him. He’s cute.”

“He would be cute if he wasn’t a moron.”

Stacia smirks, in the annoying way that only best friends can do. “I think there are sparks there.”

I laugh. “More like arson. I’d set him on fire for free. He’s a disaster. The only thing I need for him to do is lose.”

Stacia watches his retreating backside, which when I have to admit isn’t bad. “I don’t know Meg. Seems like he’s awfully successful getting under your skin. Maybe sleeping with the enemy is a tactic you should try.”

I swat at her, but she dances just out of reach. I roll my eyes and grab the graham crackers, tossing two boxes in the cart.

“Killing the enemy is far more likely,” I mutter.