I’ve already made a promise to myself that if I’m ever in a position like that again, no matter how uncomfortable it is, I will step up and do what's right, even if it means messing up my reputation, or embarrassing myself.
I park us down the street from the party, and when we get out of my car, music thumps through the walls of the house as we approach. Colored lights flash through the windows. Tucker claps me on the shoulder as we walk. “Don’t get in a fight this time, Davis.”
I smirk. “No promises.”
He laughs. “Yeah, must be nice having parents who sponsor the team. I’d probably get away with starting fights, too.”
The comment practically knocks the wind out of me. I should be used to it by now, but every time, it makes me feel like everyone thinks I’m a fake who didn’t earn my spot on the team, thanks to my parents and their generosity toward the basketball and cheer team at Fallbrook.
I brush it away and grin. “You know I don’t start fights. I finish them, and only for the people who matter.”
Like Rue. If only she knew how much I miss having a friend like her, one who actually knows me and isn’t just dazzled by my title of basketball captain.
“Bro, I think your luck is running out for once. I heard Coach talking about benching you,” says Tucker.
Dread expands in my stomach. “No…he wouldn’t.” If anything happens to keep me from playing my best game this season, I might not get scouted. And if I can’t be good enough for a scholarship, I’ll have no choice but to believe that everything people say about me is true.
“No more fights from me,” I say. “I can’t get in trouble with Coach.”Not if I’m going to finally be more than the guy with rich parents and show everyone I actually deserve to be captain.
Tucker snorts. “No more fights? Oh, no. What if none of the girls like you anymore?”
I roll my eyes. “Who cares?”
“True. No more girls means you’ll have all the time you want to play video games.”
I wince at the way he says it, like something I enjoy to burn off stress, other than basketball, is nothing but a waste of time. And as for the girls, I’m pretty sure they only like me for what they see on the outside. The most recent girl I dated, Amanda, only lasted a week. She was done when she learnedI’d rather hang out with my family than go partying with her every weekend. And when she realized how much time I put into practicing instead of her, it turned out to be a huge ick for her.
Maybe everyone is right. Maybe despite how hard I try, I’m not good enough to be captain. Maybe I’ll never be able to show anyone I’m worth the hype because I’m not. Not when I let my new friendships get to my head so much that I forgot who I was.
And then lost the one person who ever really knew me because of it.
Chapter 4
Rue
I take a sip of the fruit punch I’ve been clinging to like a lifeline for the past hour. There are so many people here—some I recognize and some I don’t, which isn’t surprising, considering the immense size of Fallbrook.
From my spot at the kitchen table, I watch people from school laugh together, pose for blurry photos, sip from Solo cups, and lean too close while they’re socializing. Dot’s house feels packed tonight. The kitchen opens straight into the living room, where most people are gathered around the fireplace and couch. A narrow hallway leads toward the front door, which keeps swinging open as more students arrive.
I catch sight of Dot looking radiant in gold hoops and a blue crop top. Zayne’s arm is around her waist as he whispers something in her ear that makes her giggle. When I first got here, her whole face lit up, which made everything worth it, but now Zayne’s been hogging her the entire night, and I have no one else to talk to. None of my other friends are here yet.
But even if they were, only Mabel would speak to you.
I take another sip of punch and try to tune out the conversations around me. Everyone talks so loudly, though. It’s impossible not to eavesdrop a little. Someone mentionsbasketball, and my gaze snaps in the direction of the front door just in time to see Ezra come in with Mabel’s boyfriend, Tucker.
Ezra makes eye contact with me briefly before I quickly glance away.
He doesn’t exist.
I go back to people watching, and when I hear my own name come up once, and again a second time, I decide to move from the kitchen to the living room.
I shuffle through the crowd toward the living room just as a tightly packed group near the fireplace separates.
And then I see him.
Carlton Peters. Standing near the fireplace, laughing at something Javier, a guy from drama club is saying. He’s wearing a charcoal hoodie and jeans, looking beautiful and effortless. He must feel my gaze somehow, because his eyes sweep the room and land right on me.
My heart stumbles.
