Page 51 of Play Maker

I shake my head and answer, “Over to Riley’s to help out.”

“So”—he rubs the back of his neck—“are we going to Boone’s or …?”

“That’s up for you to decide,” I say, smiling as I head downstairs.

Stepping off the last step, I realize that Iz, Mags, and Skinner are all staring at me.

“What are you two doing, sitting here when Mom needs our help?” I ask, heading straight for the bacon.

Mags laughs. “Aunt Jade said, if you come down here all,what are you two doing sitting here when Mom needs our help, to make you sit and eat before you go over.”

Iz scoops up some eggs. “Damn right she did.”

“I can lend a hand or two,” Skinner offers as he pulls his feet off the chair and nods for me to sit.

“You’re in playoff season; you have one job that requires all of your focus,” I remind him.

Iz chuckles. “Well, how did I end up wearing so many hats?” She holds up one finger. “Unpaid emotional support intern”—another—“certified crybaby coordinator.”

“Oh my God, what’s up with Knicks?” Maggie laughs.

Izzy throws a piece of bacon at her. “You walked away, left me there to deal with his ego.”

“Should have referred him to Ava.” Skinner chuckles.

“Oh, and poor you.” Maggie picks up where Iz left off. “I’m in senior year and still haven’t picked a real path. But Iamvery good at watching other people do things, so yeah, I’m in.”

“Truly an inspiration,” I deadpan.

She salutes me with her coffee. “I’m feeling college dropout vibes, baby.”

I point a piece of bacon at her. “You’re going to college after that show.”

“Show?” Skinner asks before biting into a pancake, egg, and bacon sandwich he’s slapped together.

Maggie grins. “Wilderness Warriors.”

Skinner gaspsloudly.One hand clutches his hoodie like he’s physically wounded. “Noooo.No, no, no. You didnotsign up for theHunger Games: Small Town Edition.”

Maggie just shrugs, unbothered, sipping her orange juice like it’s a martini. “I did. I’m going.” She crosses her eyes. “I passed the psych eval and everything.”

“That’s what worries me,” Skinner mutters. “You passed a psych evaland still chose this?Girl, you should be onLove Villa: BloodlinesorCatfight Cabins.Something where no one gets trench foot!”

Izzy nearly chokes on her pancake.

Maggie laughs. “You’re just mad I’ll be off-grid and unreachable.”

“You’ll beoff your rockerafter three days of cold rain and a protein bar named Chad’s Nut Crunch, or whoever they get to sponsor the madness that season,” Skinner huffs. “Mark my words, you are more themain characterofDon’t Text Your Ex Island.You belong in a house with neon lights and emotional sabotage, not the woods.”

I lean forward, elbows on the table, voice dry but certain. “She’s gonna win the whole damn thing.”

Skinner blinks at me like I’ve betrayed him.

“She’s scrappy, stubborn, and impossible to stop,” I continue. “Half the cast will be begging to be voted out by day five, and Maggie will be there, building a waterproof shelter out of their egos.”

Maggie salutes me with her coffee.

Izzy grins. “And when she makes it a popularity vote, she’ll charm the cameraman and win the whole internet.”

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