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“Harrison didn’t do anything wrong, Holden,” Sydney tells me.
I lift an incredulous brow. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“I’m positive he didn’t mean to knock me up.”
“So he’s incapable of putting on a condom?”
Sydney’s cheeks flush dark pink. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
That makes two of us.
“Not that it’sanyof your business, but we used one.”
“You’remy business, Sydney. This…it affects you, so it affects me. You should have told me sooner.”
“I was…” She exhales. “I was scared. I needed some time to process the possibility before I knew for sure. Cassia was the one who risked public embarrassment and bought the test for me.”
I run my palm across the ball, recalling the terrible seconds yesterday when I thought the test was hers.
“Grace Harper is running her mouth around town about you, by the way. She cornered me at the coffee shop, asking questions that made me think stuff happened this summer that neither of you told me about. If it’s none of my business, it’s definitely none of hers. And if you fuck up things with Cassia, I’ll never forgive you.”
I swallow. I guess Grace has a short memory. Our conversation on the camping trip clearly didn’t stick. Fortunately for Grace, I have bigger problems right now.
“I’d never forgive myself,” I tell her.
Sydney smiles, hearing the honesty in my voice. “Good.” She glances around. “Don’t you have class?”
“One, this afternoon.”
“Cassia left at seven this morning to go to the library before her first lab.”
I grin. “I’m sure she did.”
“Don’t flunk out, okay? This is your last year.”
“I won’t flunk out,” I promise.
“I’d better get going.”
“Okay. Text me when you’re back at the condo.”
Sydney rolls her eyes, but nods.
I drop the basketball and hold my arms open. She steps into them, releasing a ragged exhale as I squeeze her tight.
“Love you, little sis.”
“Yeah. I love you too.”
* * *
I’m in the pasta line when the third stranger tells me he can’t wait for this season. It’s weird. Having strangers weigh in on my performance. Knowing the exact expectations in place.
I’ve always played basketball for myself, not the name on the front of the jersey.
Cheers and applause don’t really register on the court. I’m focused on one goal: winning. Distractions don’t help.
But it’s hitting me a little differently this year. I want to play well so I have a chance to chase my own dreams. But I’m also conscious that this is possibly my last season. That this year could be as good as it gets for me.
