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I hurried over. “Did you set the hook?”

“Yeah, I tugged it good.” He began reeling it in, but too fast.

“Slow down. If you go too fast”—the line grew still—“you’ll lose it.”

“Dammit.” Ben finished reeling it in and trudged back to the tackle box for another ball of bait. “So where the hell did you go last night? Brett, Dominic, and I looked for you everywhere after we rode the Scrambler, but you just disappeared. And you didn’t answer your phone.”

Think fast. “The lemonade didn’t sit well after all that spinning, so I called it an early night. Phone was dead, so I just passed out as soon as I got back to the farm.”

“That’s funny, because I called your grandparents and they said you weren’t there.” His eyes narrowed.

Shit.

Ben was the one person I told everything to. But this? How could I tell him I wanted to go back on a pact I insisted we create?

I shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t hear me come in. It’s not like I stopped to chat before hitting the shower.”

“I thought you showered before the carnival.”

“Jesus, Ben. Am I under investigation?” I stepped around a couple of moss-covered rocks, where I propped my pole. “I needed another one. It was humid as hell last night.”

“Whatever.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Ben slammed the tackle box lid shut and stomped farther downstream now. If he kept that up, we’d never catch anything.

“Dominic apparently got a call from one of the UNC coaches last week.” Ben kept his back to me as he cast his line out. “The guy said he was looking forward to coming out to a couple games.”

“Good for Dom.” I checked the bait on mine and tossed my line out as well.

Ben turned. “ ‘Good for Dom’?” He shook his head and muttered something under his breath.

“What?” I asked, but I already knew where this was going.

“We both need those college scouts to come for us, Reed.” He reeled his line in a little. “After last summer—”

“Would you stop fucking reminding me about last summer? I know I fucked up. Okay?” I tugged on my line a bit. “Want me to tattoo it on my face?”

A small flock of sparrows shot out of the trees across from us, and the air grew heavier.

Ben reeled his line all the way in and propped his pole on his shoulder. “Is this because of the princess?”

Seriously?

My jaw tensed. “Her name is Eliza. And no, this has nothing to do with her.”

“Are you two hooking up?”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

“Are you?” he repeated.

Like a fucking coward, I just stared at my line floating in the water. “I met up with her at the carnival…after I told you and the guys I was going home. It wasn’t planned, I swear. It just sort of happened.”

“I knew it. I fucking knew it.” He kicked the water.

“It doesn’t change anything though. Really.” I reeled my line in haphazardly. “She knows what’s at stake. She knows why I came here—”