Page 71 of Wicked Serve

“Absolutely not.”

“What did she—”

“I messed up.” Alexis’s parting shot to me echoes in my mind: I hope that boy was worth it. “It was my fault.”

“I’m the one who went to see you.”

I shake my head. “None of what I did this season matters.” Tears streak down my flushed cheeks. “How well I played, all the extra work I put in—she’s not giving the starting setter position to someone she can’t trust.”

“That’s bullshit.”

I untangle myself from him, shoving at the doors to the building so hard, they bounce against the brick. Cold air blasts me in the face, setting off shivers. I didn’t bother to throw my coat on for the dash from Nik’s car to the building, and now I’m regretting it.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault, I’m the one who kept you out all night. Are you sure I can’t—”

“God.” My breath blows out like smoke in the freezing air. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

If the night we just shared meant to him what it meant to me, then this lie isn’t hiding a crush. It’s hiding a spark that could easily grow into a wildfire. Yet around everyone, we act like we don’t know each other at all. Moment after moment this fall—even during the dinner with my parents—we acted like near strangers. I shoved it down and pretended it didn’t matter. That we didn’t matter. Volleyball just fell to pieces, and if I have to keep pretending that Nik is nothing to me, I’m going to break.

I whirl on him. “Lie. I can’t lie anymore.”

He opens his mouth. Shuts it. I wipe my face roughly.

“Isabelle,” he says finally. His eyes are wide; he swipes his tongue over his lips. He fists his hands, then relaxes them, over and over.

I know he knows what I mean, and yet he doesn’t say anything else.

I jerk my hand through the tangled ends of my hair. Words crowd my throat, but it’s an effort to string them together. “Part of me was relieved, in her office.” I laugh hollowly. “Relieved that at least I didn’t have to lie about you.”

“What did she say?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I haven’t truly let myself think about what this means yet. What kind of future I’ll have on the team. What a disappointment I’ll be to my parents the instant they hear what happened, and why. It’s all background to the sight of Nik so still, his expression so pained. The five feet between us may as well be a canyon.

“Of course it does. She has to know it was a mistake.”

“I don’t care.” Another fucking lie, but at least it makes him take a step forward.

“Isabelle,” he says again. His expression is so stark that it would scare me if I had enough room in me to feel anything but heartache.

“I can’t lie to my family like this.” My voice cracks. “I can’t sneak around anymore, especially if it’s going to get in the way of everything else, for someone who isn’t...”

“What are you talking about?” His voice sounds odd and flat.

I convinced myself that casual with him felt different because I actively made the choice, but in the end, the path twisted in the same direction. I felt something for him from the start, and I thought he did too, especially after last night, but maybe he’s better at keeping people out. There’s so much he hasn’t shared, especially when it comes to his family. Maybe I’m the idiot again, shoving my feelings at anyone who gives me a second look. Letting myself believe this was going somewhere, that the trust went in both directions, when I’m not enough for him.

“You might be capable of holding yourself apart from everything and shutting out your family, but I can’t do that.”

A twitch, as if I just slapped him. “My family has nothing to do with this.”

“And mine has everything to do with it,” I shoot back.

He doesn’t react with so much as a blink. He may as well be a statue. Cold. Unbothered. Letting me drown in front of him.

“I can’t do it anymore,” I whisper. “Not unless it’s for real, Nik. Is it for real?”

Something flickers in his eyes at the break in my voice, but he doesn’t answer.

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