Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“I just have a lot on my mind,” I admit.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I don’t know. Do I? Coach is awesome, and I know I can trust her, but the person I really want to talk to is Courtney. Things have gotten so out of hand, and I don’t even know how to apologize to her after all this time. I keep seeing her around school, and I want to talk to her so badly, but I always chicken out. The truth is, I miss her terribly, and I need my best friend back in my life.
“I think I just need to make a few amends,” I tell Coach. “Get my priorities straight, you know?”
She smiles and squeezes my arm. “Okay, well, I’m here if you ever need to talk. Just keep that in mind.”
We part ways, and I find a comfy place in the grass. The rest of the field is empty now, and everyone’s in the locker rooms getting ready to go home. It’s as good a time as any to text Court before I can think about putting it off any longer. I write out several long messages and delete them before settling on three simple words.
Me: Can we talk?
She texts me back within a few seconds.
Wifey4Lifey: It’s about time.
Despite feeling pretty crappy about everything, I smile. I know I should get home because my mom will start to worry, but I don’t want to put our conversation off another second. So, I pull up a video chat. Court answers on the third ring, and I can tell she’s lying on her bed by the pictures on the wall behind her.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out the second I see her face. “I’ve been a terrible friend.”
“Yep, pretty terrible,” she agrees, but her lips are already cracking into a smile. “I missed you anyway, asshole.”
“God, I miss you too.” I sigh. “It sucks not talking to you every day. Will you forgive me?”
“That depends.” She blows a bubble and pops it. “Are you going to try to make me into one of your Barbie clones again?”
“Definitely not.” I shake my head. “That was a horrible plan.”
She laughs, but it falls away quickly. “And what about your revenge?”
I pluck a few pieces of grass and toy with them between my fingers. “I honestly don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore.”
“Well…” She considers me for a minute. “Tell me about it. Maybe I can help.”
Over the next twenty minutes, the confessions pour out of me like lava. By the end, Courtney is just as unsure as I am. She tells me we’ll figure it out together, and we agree to meet tomorrow after practice.
When I hang up, it’s already dark out, and I still have to shower. Inside the locker room, a couple of girls are still applying the finishing touches to their makeup, and one more is in the shower. This place will be a ghost town pretty soon, and it gets uber-creepy when everyone leaves. Coach is probably in her office on the other side of the school, so I’d rather not be here by myself.
I take a quick shower and throw on a pair of leggings and a hoodie. When I head to the mirror to brush out my hair, the other shower is still running. Someone’s been in there for a long time, but I’m not hanging around to see who it is. I need to get home for dinner before my mom freaks.
Outside, the chill of the air bites into my skin, and I’m second-guessing myself for not drying my hair. But as I step onto the empty field, I’m regretting staying so late even more. It’s dark, and it’s hard to see on this side of the building. I don’t realize why until I glance up at the light, only to realize it’s broken. And it isn’t the only one.
“What the—”
Something crashes into me, knocking me to the ground so fast I can barely comprehend what’s happening. As I cough and sputter for air, the crushing weight of the shadowed figure on top of me sends a surge of adrenaline through my veins. I open my mouth to scream for help, but he backhands me so hard, stars burst into my vision. I’m still stunned and disoriented as he scrambles to his feet, but I try to squint up at him, preparing for the worst.
I can’t make out his face, but it’s impossible to miss the baseball bat in his hand. Several terrifying seconds seem to move in slow motion as he wrenches his arm back.
“Wait—”
Crack.
The aluminum collides with my ankle, crunching the fragile bones as a blood-curdling scream erupts from my throat. I don’t even have time to blink before he swings it again and smashes the same target with so much violence, I’m convinced this is the end.