Page 39 of Don't Let Go

“Your brothers mentioned I should watch the basketball game tonight. I—”

Her face paled. “Oh? You don’t need to. It’s probably nothing like what you’re used to.”

It seemed like she didn’t want me anywhere around the game. That intrigued me to attend to see why she didn’t want me there.

“They said you’re in the band. That’s not worth the trip?” I raised an eyebrow, daring her to continue with her argument as to why I should miss it.

She ran her brush through her hair, studying the slightly curled ends too closely. “It’s nothing special. Come. Don’t. I’m—”

“I’m hungry!” Lizzy whined. She threw herself onto the last step and dramatically acted like she was dying by putting a hand to her forehead.

Rory rolled her eyes at her little sister. “I gotta go before the wolves come and bite me.”

“Why do you always cook? Isn't that why cereal was invented?”

“Cereal isn't real food.” She pointed to herself with the brush. “Besides, without me, they’d starve or claim they were anyway.” For a moment, we locked eyes. She nibbled at her bottom lip. “Come down for breakfast, and then we’ll get going. We don’t want to be late.”

I watched Rory return to her room. The way she carried herself was something to envy. She was gorgeous, and she knew it. Damn, if only she wasn’t with that asshole.

It was the top of the fourth period. South Ridge was up by ten points. I found a place to sit on the bleachers so I could see Rory in the band. She was one of the trombone players and the prettiest one of them all. Her black and red uniform brought out the gold in her hair. Her forehead wrinkled as she focused on playing when the whistle was blown for a time-out. She moved the trombone’s slide with ease, making it seem like playing came naturally, like riding a bike.

Only a few minutes remained in the game. Paolo stole the ball and tore it down the court. He was blocked from making a shot, so he passed to a tall guy who charged and jumped, making the basket. When he came back down, he was body-slammed by anopponent and fell to the ground. He cradled his right leg, rocking himself in pain. The ref blew the whistle, and a medic took the player off the court.

During the last minute, the other team made a few points, but in the end, South Ridge won by six. Everyone cheered and stomped their feet on the wooden bleachers. I scanned the gym and didn’t see any banners or jerseys hanging around to show they had won a state championship game or stepped foot in one since their school was established.

Rory had her instrument in one hand and its stand in the other as she walked toward the band room with the others. I jogged to catch up with her. Her eyes locked on me, and she froze.

“Hey. I wanted to say you played pretty good.” I sounded like a moron.

She blushed, setting her stand down. “You could hearmytrombone out of the entire band?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. She caught me. “Sometimes...”

Her eyes darkened. She was about to say something else when I was pushed back. I took a step to the side to keep from falling.

Paolo was in my face, red with rage. “Stay away from her. She’s mine.” He hit his chest with mine. His teammates lingered to watch but slowly wandered off to wherever their locker room was.

All the fans had mostly filed out. Luckily, there was no one to encourage a fistfight. I cracked my knuckles, staring him down. I wasn’t going to let some punk ass think he had the upper hand.

“Bring it,” I spat.

Rory grabbed her stand and nudged Paolo with it. “Just go to the locker room. I’m going to put my stand away.” She moved toward the band room. “Go home, Tyler.”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw South Ridge’s coach talking to a woman wearing a pearl necklace and a too-low-cut dress for a high school basketball game.

Paolo had to see him, too, and gave up.

“Next time, there will be no saving you. I will kick your ass. Leave Aurora alone.”

I wanted to give him a smart-ass remark, but the woman left, and the coach spotted us.

Paolo disappeared, and I was alone in the gym with the coach. He eyed the spot on the basketball court where one of his players fell.

The coach nodded at me. “That was an intense game, wasn’t it?”

I straightened up. “Yes, sir.”

He looked me over. “Do I know you, son?”

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