“So? Lean over.”
“I’m not leaning across a bus aisle for an entire conversation,” Hayes says. “Just take my seat for this one trip and sit with Foster.”
“What’s the holdup?” Foster grumbles from behind Easton.
“Carlisle is trying to switch things around. Says he has to talk to Decker.”
“And?” Foster’s head is buried in his phone, holding it up and taking pictures of himself with silly expressions. I guess having a kid really does change someone.
I hate that Penelope’s face is the first one that comes to mind after that thought.
Easton sighs in defeat.
I slide my legs over, and Hayes crawls past to the window seat.
Easton turns around to face Foster. “You get in first.”
Foster crosses his arms and shakes his head. “Nope, I’m on the aisle.”
Easton leans closer, as if he could lower his voice enough that we won’t hear him. “They’re keeping secrets. I want to eavesdrop.”
“We can hear you,” I say.
“It’s not your business,” Hayes adds. “And it’s just to the airport. Relax, Kodiak.”
“Sit down.” Foster’s voice is firm, nodding toward the window seat.
Torres and a few other players groan behind them. “Let’s go!” Torres says.
“Kodiak has hurt feelings,” Foster says in a higher pitch sing-song voice.
Easton huffs and throws himself into Hayes’s usual seat.
“Now he’s pouting. Thanks, Carlisle.” Foster slides in next to him and eyes me.
While we were fighting to stay on top in the eighth and ninth, I forgot Hayes told me he wanted to talk to me.
“I’m just saying, we’re the four horsemen. We don’t keep secrets.” Easton stares out the window like a teenager who was uninvited to the party he planned.
“I have secrets with Carlisle.” I shrug.
Easton’s head whips around. “You do?”
Hayes and Foster both laugh.
“Relax, Kodiak, this is a one-time swap.”
“One time.” Easton raises his finger and puts in his earbuds.
Nobody responds to that, which is the right call. Giving Easton the last word is the fastest way to end any conversation.
The bus starts moving, and the ambient noise of the usual post-game hum settles over the bus. Guys on their phones. Someone’s music leaking out through their headphones.
I wait, curious what is so important that Hayes had to sit next to me. Easton has a point—the four of us don’t keep much from one another. We’ve really come together as the foursome Jagger wanted us to be two years ago when Hayes joined the Colts.
We’re on the highway before Hayes turns in his seat to face me as best he can.
“What is it?”
