Page 22 of Whistle

Behind us, my new coach made a sound.

My teeth sank into my lower lip, and I glanced down at the paper, the line already marked where I needed to sign. Mr. Sabatino slid a pen in front of me.

“How long do I have to stay at Westbrook?” I asked the lawyer.

“Until you graduate.”

I was two years away from finishing my bachelor’s in business. I could do two years at Westbrook or five years in jail.

I don’t want to swim.

Worry about that later.

With a burst of bravado, I snatched up the pen and scrawled my signature on all the places the lawyer pointed to. When I was done, I sank into a nearby chair, completely and utterly drained.

“You made a good choice, son.” The lawyer congratulated me.

Then why did it feel like I’d just signed a deal with the devil?

6

Coach (Emmett)

It was too dark to see the ocean, but the house was close enough that the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the night air. Stars speckled a sky that seemed to stretch on for miles.

California was a lot different from Virginia, not necessarily in a bad way, just not in the way I was accustomed to.

A set of keys clanked together, and a muffled curse floated over Bodhi’s shoulder as he tried to unlock the front door. They dropped from the lock onto the ground with a clatter, making him curse louder this time.

“I’ll do it,” Rush said, bending to scoop up the keys.

“It—”

“Sticks.” Rush cut him off. “I know.”

“You remember?”

“I got stabbed in the back by my best friend. I didn’t catch amnesia,” he snapped, shoving open the front door of the Malibu beach house.

Bodhi gave him a look, but Rush ignored it. “Go inside.”

Bodhi went without a single glance at me, flipping on a light in the marble-tiled entry. To the right, a staircase curved upward, and off to the left a wide hallway led into what I assumed were other rooms.

“I thought the ‘rents cut you off,” Rush said, gazing around.

Bodhi shrugged. “They don’t answer my calls. Told my lawyer not to answer them either. They basically just stopped talking to me like I don’t exist. I still have a key, though.”

“You’ve been here all summer?” Rush seemed surprised.

Bodhi made a face. “Hell no. I hardly ever come here.”

Where the hell has he been living?

“Then why are we here now?” Rush questioned.

“So I can pack my shit.”

“Flight leaves tomorrow at noon,” I told them. “Get your bags. We’ll get a hotel for the night.”

---