Page 484 of Ruthless Court

“You ate them.”

“I was testing the theory.”

She is wearing a dark green dress.

Hair down.

Tortoiseshell glasses.

Twizzlers hidden inside a designer purse Stella gave her because apparently draft night requires accessories that cost more than my first car.

Hannah threatened to return it.

Stella removed the receipt.

Vale encouraged the crime.

Across the room, my parents sit with Coach.

Coach Goodwin is talking to my father like they’ve known each other for twenty years.

Hannah’s mom keeps crying.

Hannah leans toward me.

“If you get drafted during one of her crying episodes, the pictures will be terrible.”

“She’ll survive.”

“You say that because your mascara isn’t involved.”

My hand closes around hers beneath the table.

One year.

One full season.

Return.

Conference title.

Tournament run.

My draft stock climbed back into the first round by February.

She still yells at the television.

Still catches things.

Still tells me when I make a possession personal.

But basketball stopped being the price of admission between us.

She coaches sixteen-under now.

The thirteen-year-olds aged up and refused to let her quit.

Evan rebounds like someone insulted his family.