Page 24 of Look What You Made Me Do

“Nothing’s more important than beer and women.” Certainly not this stupid, hare-brained… whim.

“Margaritaville every day for you, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She regarded him for a long moment. It was clear she was suddenly, desperately invested in this ridiculous plan. “Please.”

Oh God… the way she said please. Like she had that day two years ago and man if it didn’t tug at him just as hard.

He sighed. “A public school has never won against Chiswick Academy since they started doing it ninety years ago.”

Ella started. “Is that true?” she asked Simon.

He nodded. “Doesn’t mean yours won’t be the first.”

“Right?” She turned to Jake. “We could be the ones.”

“You told me, not even an hour ago, that you despise football.”

“I’m prepared to tolerate it.”

Jake huffed out an exasperated breath. “Don’t you… have a plan B?”

“Sure, sleep with the entire education review panel.”

“There you go, then.” He nodded. “Problem solved.”

“You want me to do a dozen sexual favors for a bunch of men who look like they come from the pre g-spot era?”

Cameron chose that moment to appear. Considering he was a big kid, he looked surprisingly like his petite mother. Ignoring everybody, he snatched up a handheld game console that had been sitting discarded in the middle of the table.

“Hey, Cam,” Ella called as he turned to leave.

Cameron came to an abrupt stop, clearly aggrieved by the intrusion. “What?”

“Can you let me know when the game’s over, please? I need to talk to you.”

He blasted a hostile glare at his sister. “Talk, talk, talk. That’s all you ever do.” Then he stormed off in the direction of the door.

“Cam,” she called after him.

“Fuck off,” he threw over his shoulder as he yanked open the door and slammed it behind him for good measure.

Jake blinked as an uncomfortable silence descended. Ella sat deathly still, her knuckles blanching white against the back of the chair. No wonder she’d looked so strained earlier. If he’d spoken to an adult like that at fifteen, he would have been knocked sideways.

Cameron Lucas needed a serious attitude adjustment.

But, amid the heat simmering inside him, a primal kind of recognition glowed. Ella’s brother was a product of Trently. As he had been.

Cameron Lucas was him – before football.

“Okay.” He stood abruptly, driven by something deeper than he could explain. “I’ll be there Monday at three o’clock. You got yourself a coach.”

Then he excused himself and left before he changed his mind.

6

Jake’s cell phone jangled in the dark, quiet room like hell’s doorbell. He woke with a start, groping around blindly for the offensive item, the noise like a hot needle in his temple.

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