Page 82 of Dropping the Ball

My eyes fly open. “What? No. What if I have to . . .” Pee. Just thinking it makes me need to go. “I hydrate. A lot.”

“Uh . . .” He looks blank and scratches his chin. “Think dry thoughts?”

“Pray you don’t see my potty dance.” He makes me want to throw a shoe again. Not at him. But he makes me want to throw a shoe. I try calming breaths.

After a minute he says, “If my mom notices I’m not home in the next hour, she’ll text. Then call. When I don’t answer, she’ll get mad or worried. Probably both. Most likely she’ll walk down to Ty’s house because she knows he’s working on this job with me. Maybe, if she’s upset enough, Ty will volunteer to drive over here to make her feel better. He’ll see our cars, and then our odds are good.”

“How likely is all of that?”

“If I change my routine on my mom, I always let her know. I can count on her to escalate the situation.”

How many times has this played out in different ways in their life? The underlying tiredness as he said “escalate” suggests he’s probably quit counting.

“How is your mom?” I ask.

He only shrugs.

Tell me more, I want to say. But why should he be willing to do that when I made it clear I don’t have time to hear his stories, now or even months from now.

The irony of the situation hits me. I closed a door on Micah so I could focus on work, but all the time I put in over the last twodays to prep for this meeting with Drake is wasted because I’m with Micah again.

Being right doesn’t give me a warm, fuzzy feeling. I shiver, the cold of the elevator getting to me.

Micah crawls over to sit beside me. “I wish I had a jacket to give you.”

“It’s okay. Unless you meant to strand us here, in which case your planning could use some work.”

“I’ll make a note.”

“Add something about happening to have chocolate with you next time you incapacitate the elevator.”

“Brilliant. No wonder Madison chose you to replace her.”

The tiny flickers of humor I’d been finding wink out.

“Whoa, what just happened?”

I don’t know what he sees in my face, but Ifeelbleak. “Madison chose wrong.”

“That doesn’t sound like Madison. She doesn’t miss a step.”

“Madison’s only misstep was believing in me. The rest of them are mine.”

He absorbs that for a moment. “I watched you work for four years in high school. I would have no problem trusting you to handle anything important.”

I snort. “Seems like you and Madison have both forgotten that I choke in the clutch.”

“Is this about your meeting tonight?”

“That’s only the latest in a chain of failures.”

“Tell me.” It’s an invitation.

“I’d rather eat dirt than list all my failures for you.”

“Okay. I like quiet.” He settles against the wall and closes his eyes.

I close mine too.

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