Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Coach let out another long breath, and then he shook his head, looking at me with such disappointment I wanted to curl into a ball and cry like a little boy. “What were you thinking, son?”
“I wasn’t,” I answered immediately, honestly.
Coach nodded, and then something in him softened a bit the longer he watched me. “You okay?”
“No,” I said on a laugh, nose stinging. I sniffed it away. “I messed up. I’m sorry, Coach,” I said, meeting his gaze. I hoped he felt how much I meant that. “I really am.”
Coach Lee looked like he didn’t know if he wanted to scream at me, make me run laps, or give me a hug. In the end, he settled on another nod. “Whatever is going on, figure it out. We need you for the game next weekend. And those scouts won’t think twice before turning their backs on you if you’re not performing at the level they want to see.”
I nodded, and at this point, the souring of my stomach felt like it would be a new permanent state of being.
“You’re on probation,” he added.
I wasn’t surprised. “Meaning?”
“Meaning if you fuck up again, there won’t be a conversation. There won’t be help. There won’t be a way out of it.” He leveled his gaze with me. “Focus, son. The rest of your life is at stake here.”
After that, the day dragged by and happened in a flash all at once. I didn’t know how I managed to stay alive long enough to ride home with the roommates at the end of it, all of us quiet and exhausted in the car.
No one said a word, but Kyle’s eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror from where he was driving. He nodded, wordlessly telling me he was there, and Braden squeezed my shoulder from where he sat beside me. Blake glanced back at me with concern, but then offered me a pitiful smile, trying to give me hope that I didn’t think could ever exist in me again.
That was, until we pulled up and saw Mary’s car across the street.
Kyle barely put the car in park before I was rushing out of it and in the house and up the stairs. I burst through my door and felt the most relieving exhale leave me at the sight of Mary sitting on the bed.
Her hair was a wild nest piled into a bun on top of her head, and one look at her face told me she’d slept as shitty as me last night. Palico was laying beside her, flicking her tail at me like even she knew what a moron I’d been.
But Mary still wore one of my hoodies, and that sight along with the possible implication it held had me moving toward her.
The second I noticed all the bags and boxes packed up around the room, I froze again.
My eyes flicked from one box to the next, bouncing into my closet that was much less crowded now before sneaking a glance at the bathroom that was far too clean to have any trace of Mary left. Panic gripped my throat in a fist, and when my gaze met Mary’s, I had no choice.
I fell to my knees.
I fell hard, with a crack of bone to wood that made Mary’s eyes well with tears. She looked up to try to keep them from falling, but they seared down her cheeks, anyway.
“Don’t go.”
They were the only words I could say, the only ones that made sense in my scrambled brain. I could say I was sorry a million times, I could promise her the whole world — but the one thing I needed her to hear above anything else was that I wanted her to stay.
I needed her to stay.
“I’m going to live with my parents,” she said, her voice a cracked whisper.
I closed my eyes, shaking my head, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare.
“I’ve overstayed my welcome here as it is.”
I opened my eyes again. “You know that’s not true.”
“I don’t know what’s true anymore.”
My jaw ached with how hard I clenched it.
“Look, this was a bad idea from the start,” she said, not looking at me as she said it. But she stood, pulling Palico into her arms, and that made it feel so final that I could barely breathe. “Let’s just… go back to pretending we left each other back in high school, okay?”
“I don’t want to pretend,” I said, climbing to my feet. My chest heaved as I stared at her. “I don’t want to pretend I left you in high school because I didn’t. I don’t want to pretend like I didn’t want you the second you moved across the street, even before I knew who you were. And I refuse to pretend that I don’t want you now, more than ever, because I do know who you are.”