Page 108 of On the Breakaway

Wyatt nearly drops a plate, snickering under his breath.

“I’ve spent too much time trying to recreate what Mom and Dad have. I decided to give it a break for a bit. Stop forcing it.”

Katie’s expression turns into understanding.

For a moment, I think I’ve survived.

Then Wyatt opens his mouth.

“To be fair,” he says casually, drying a plate. “The Avery situation doesn’t exactly sound forced.”

Slowly, I turn toward Wyatt. I’m going to kill him. I’m going to murder my best friend because he can’t keep his stupid mouth shut. His eyes widen as if just now realizing the hell he’s walked me into.

Katie’s head snaps between us. “The who situation?”

“Nobody,” I say, grip tightening on the sponge as I grab the pot off the stove.

“The Avery situation,” Wyatt repeats, wiggling his eyebrows.

Fucking traitor.

Katie’s eyes narrow the same way Mom’s do when she’s about to uncover information she shouldn’t have.

“Avery?”

I say nothing.

“Oh my God.”

“Katie, it’s not–” I start.

“You like someone.”

I nearly choke. “No.”

The denial comes out so fast that it sounds ridiculous even to me. Her eyes go wide, and then she starts laughing, folding in half as the laughter racks through her body.

She looks at Wyatt. “Did you see that?”

He smirks. “I did.”

“See what?” I ask.

“The panic.” Katie scrunches her face as if she’s delivering bad news.

“There was no panic.”

“There was so much panic.”

My eyes jump toward Wyatt for support, but he’s grinning now, too. I scrub a hand down my face. This conversation has become my personal nightmare.

Katie folds her arms. “So, her name’s Avery.”

“No.”

“And you like Avery.”

“No.”