Page 134 of Game Plan

Careful not to poke my fingers, I lifted the syringe.

My boyfriend had lied to me. He said he was done with the drugs. If that had been the truth, this thing wouldn’t have been in there.

I dropped down on my ass and folded my legs, hugging them with my arms. The excitement of going out with the boys faded, leaving a bitter taste lingering in my throat.

What should I do? Mason would never agree to see a counselor or a doctor, and I would never rat him out to his coach. I’d been through this myself, and I wouldn’t wish being betrayed by the ones you trusted on my worst enemy. I rested my head against the cabinet behind me, not sure what the next course of action should be.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted my lost earring, the blue gemstone shining amongst the waste. I picked it up and rolled it between my fingers. I had no idea if I should be grateful I’d dropped it or hate it for slipping from my grip because now I couldn’t fake I didn’t know what Mason had been up to.

I heard footsteps behind me and braced myself for the argument that would ensue. No way could I pretend all night I hadn’t seen what I’d seen. Nope. Anyway, hiding from reality was a bad idea. I had done that to myself for such a long time. I wouldn’t let the boy I loved do the same thing to himself.

“Hey, love. Are you ready?” Mason asked as he stepped into the bathroom, eyeing the chaos in front of me. “What’s this? Did you stumble and fall? You should have hollered my name. I was downstairs with the guys.”

I remained still, not sure how to be honest without starting a huge fight.

Mason squatted next to me. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale. We can reschedule if you feel sick.” He kissed the side of my head, and for an instant, I melted at the gesture.

But then I remembered the syringe, and my insides twisted into knots.

With a deep inhale, I summoned every ounce of courage I possessed. “I’m not sick, and for your information, I was ready. I’m just not sure I am anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Right there, I saw it hit him—the moment of realization—his face going pale. Looking down, he blinked a dozen times, refusing to meet my gaze.

“You promised you were done with this shit.” I opened my fist and presented him with the syringe I was clutching.

“I am.” He dropped down on the floor on my left, hugging his knees the same way I was.

“Why don’t I believe you right now?”

“Mel, I’m telling the truth. I was tempted the other night… I wanted to do it, but then I thought better of it because I didn’t wanna disappoint you…or myself. You were not supposed to find it.”

“Well, I did.”

“Is it a habit of yours to rummage through other people’s trash?”

“I dropped my earring. Not that it matters anyway.” The first tears rolled down my cheeks. “You promised. You swore to me you were done, and there were no more drugs in this house or your gym bag or the locker room. You lied.” My shoulders sagged forward. “I think it’s the worst part about all of this.”

“You gotta believe me. I haven’t used anything since the night you caught me. I’ve been clean.”

“Clean? It’s not a word I ever thought you would use to describe yourself. I’m so worried, Mase. I don’t want you hurting yourself. You saw firsthand how it turned out for me. You saw how the lies destroyed us the last time. Why would you risk us going through this again?”

“Mel…”

“Don’t Mel me.” I moved to stand, and Mason followed suit. With a tissue, I wiped the mascara streaks tracing my cheeks. “I think I should go. Before I do or say something I’ll regret.”

Mason blocked my escape. “You’re not going anywhere. I won’t let you run away this time. Every time things get tough, you leave.”

I held his stare and pushed his chest with both hands. “Move. You’re not the boss of me.”

“You’re right, but I’m also telling the truth here, and I have nothing to hide. We can talk like grown-ups do. I need you to trust me.”

More tears leaked from my eyes. “I’m trying to, but this”—I waved the syringe still in my grip—“makes it pretty hard.”

“I. AM. NOT. USING.”

“Stop screaming, or the entire neighborhood will know, and you’ll make the matter even worse than it already is. The last thing you need is your coach hearing about it.”