Page 249 of Out of Bounds

In silence, King took a long look at me. I’d slept a dozen hours in the past four days and forgot razors existed. It couldn’t have been a great sight. Even if that was true, King didn’t say anything. He just sat down on a chair.

"That’s it?" Adam demanded. While King and I were motionless, he paced the other side of the room, rubbing his jaw. "It’s not good for you to be like this. This isn’t healthy. We’re basically brothers, man. It’s not like…shit." He shook his head. "I care about you, okay? We both do. Damn you for making me say it."

That wasn’t enough to rouse me out of the ice water…tepid water.

How long have I been here?

"What if I told you I know twenty girls that want you right now? I can call up any of them and they’ll be here in three minutes."

I gave him a hard stare. "I’d say that’s a shit joke."

"Ah." Adam paused. "Yeah. Joke. Just kidding, man." He swiveled to the side and whipped out his phone, texting something with a curse under his breath. "King, say something. I’m not good at this."

King nodded. "I’m sorry, man."

"If I ever get like this, just kill me." Adam shoved his phone in his back pocket. "Let’s get you out of this…I guess it’s a bath now. I’ll get you some clothes.” He paused at the door.

I knew what he was thinking.

“If you touch any of the drawings in my locker, I’ll do something stupid,” I warned him.

A pause followed.

"Alright." Adam nodded. "I won’t comment on that, because I like our friendship where it’s at."

He headed off anywhere and came back with some fresh clothes. But no matter how much he tried to get me to agree to go somewhere off-campus, I wasn’t interested.

How do you say goodbye to a part of you? A better part of you? I would’ve needed to wash away every piece of my life that she touched and I couldn’t imagine. I couldn’t do it.

But I’d have to live with that, forever.

"This fucking sucks," I admitted.

"Yeah. It does." Adam sighed. "I’m sorry."

King cleared his throat for the hundredth time. "I’m sorry, Ryan."

My teammates understood enough to know I didn’t want to talk again.

104

Kassie

Bullshit Box

His stuff needed to gosomewhere.

Taking a moment to steady my breath, I headed off to the clothing donation bin in the lobby of Roman Forest. It was a nasty, off-neon green color, so happy and joyful like it had anything to laugh about. The little cartoon kid dressed in six parkas had a thumbs-up sign, but somebody had drawn devil horns and ‘Bullshit Box’ over him.

That’s where his stuff belonged - in the Bullshit Box.

I opened it and closed it just as quickly. But the trick was, I couldn’t allow myself to pause. This wasn’t the training center. I needed to get of all of it before I left for Florida.

Swearing under my breath, I yanked on the handle and there went one of the cheap volunteer shirts we’d worn together for a food drive. Trash. The pair of sandals he’d bought me when myheels killed my ankles on a trip to Discovery Park. Garbage. Two pairs of Marrs University dark blue sunglasses we’d picked up at the bookstore. Gone, all of it, gone.

The anger was the easy part.

It was so simple, pull the handle, drop the clothes in, push it into where I couldn’t reach it anymore, where I wouldn’t have to look at it again. I released the handle, one after another after another. Metal crashed against metal, the sweet sound of finality.

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