“To get along?” I finish for him.
He drops his chin and any trace of amusement or regret, or effort, is gone. His stare is blank, eyes cold, and mouth a perfectly straight line.
“To avoid each other.”
He blinks twice before turning and walking toward his dorm. I hug my roommate’s shoes to my chest along with my portfolio bag. My ribs feel sore to the touch as I squeeze my arms tighter, and I mentally picture a deep blue bruise on my skin.
I wonder what Anika would think . . . of everything.
Chapter6
Theo
Football practice did what I hoped.
For two hours, I thought of nothing other than my route, how many more pushups and up-downs I had, or miles left in our run. I still don’t love it like some of these guys do, but I’m grateful for it. And I’m good.
If I could extend the distraction of practice for another hour or two, I would. But I don’t think James would be up for that. His dad wasn’t kidding when he said he doesn’t play favorites or make life easy for his son. He had expectations for him that were levels beyond my game. I get the impression that James might be a bit of a phenom.
I’m lost in my thoughts, still not fully dressed, when someone throws a towel at my head.
“Hey!” I snap.
Cameron holds up two palms in apology. His eyes are so red. He smoked most of the day away before practice. I’m shocked he didn’t simply curl up on the forty-yard line and nap. He’s a functioning stoner, I guess.
“You were off somewhere. We getting dinner or what?” He flings his locker door open, and the sharp bang is irritating.
“I could eat,” James says from behind us.
The two of them spend a minute tapping knuckles and congratulating each other on a great first practice while I manage to get my ass off the bench and my feet into my shoes. I slip back into my own universe while they shore up plans for dinner at the main hall, and by the time I’m aware of life again, we’re almost there. Just in time to enter one side of the room while Lily and her friends come through the other set of doors.
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath.
Morgan’s eyes meet mine before I can look away. I’m sunk. That girl, as much as she doesn’t want to be like her parents, she can’t help the socialite gene that seems to flare at the sight of anyone she knows. She’s practically sprinting my direction.
“Theo, who’s your friend?” Morgan’s arm slides behind my neck, her body nestled next to me. That happened fast.
Naturally. She’s spotted James.
“Morgan Bentley, meet the new Welles QB.”
Her arm leaves me on cue and her hand juts out toward James as he introduces himself.
“James Fuentes, and I don’t have the job quite yet.” He’s being modest. Even if he wasn’t coach’s kid he’d still be the best arm to pass through this posh-ass place in years.
I quirk a brow and lean into Morgan so only she can hear me.
“His dad’s the coach.”
Her head swivels and her eyes flash at that mention, her throat moving with the pride I think she may have just swallowed. There was a lot of talk about Morgan and our last coach. I don’t think anything serious ever happened, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some lines were crossed. Morgan is a little fucked up thanks to being made part of her parents’ dynasty and brand the moment she was born. The country club both of our families belong to in the city tends to breed troublemakers. A lot of Morgan’s bad decisions have been driven by her craving for attention. At least, that’s what Anika used to say.
“James, nice to meet you. You boys come sit with us. Lily’s holding the big table near the windows.”
My gaze follows Morgan’s directions on instinct, and I’m met with Lily’s worried stare.
“We’d love to.” The words come out of my mouth before my mind catches up to the consequences of them. I’m supposed to be avoiding Lily, yet all I seem to do is get myself involved with her. She’s like this itch I’m compelled to scratch, as if torturing her a little every day keeps me connected to my sister. At this pace, we’ll be roommates by Friday.
We move through the food line and finish with full trays. I grab two apples, noticing nobody’s getting anything for Lily, and fully aware it’s something I can use to needle her. Her gaze follows me from the register all the way to the table, where I take a seat directly across from her. I pick up an apple and roll it in my palm a few times before setting it down in front of her.