Page 120 of Not Made to Last

I turn to look at Oscar. “You can’t leave St. Luke’s.” I almost cry at the thought. “You’re the only reason I make it through each day.”

Dom grunts, “Say that shit again, Ollie, and I’m going to blow up that fucking school.”

“Swear jar!”

“I mean, it’s notthatbad,” I try to backpedal. The dumb pranks have stopped, and for the most part, so has the blatant name calling. Either that, or I’m just too busy keeping my head down to pay attention to it. During school hours, I don’t speak unless necessary, and if I do, there are only two people my wordsare directed to—Oscar and Miss Turner. It’s tough, sure, but I like Oscar said:don’t let them win.

“You can go to Philips, too,” Rhys says, turning me to him. “You never mentioned it before.”

I shrug. “I didn’t think it was an option for me.”

“How fucking—” Dom starts.

“Swear jar!”

Dom continues, “—good would it be if we graduated together?”

A spark of hope ignites in my chest, but I push it down quickly. Mrs. Garrett covering Oscar so he can play ball is one thing, but there’s no reason I can’t stay at St. Luke’s. Besides, “I like my sessions with Miss Turner.”

Oscar scoffs. “Your boyfriend’s her daughter’s godfather. You can see her outside of school, youdingbat.”

“These dogs are ready,” Dominic announces, and Max runs toward us while Dre and Oscar get to their feet.

“How much do I owe this six-year-old millionaire?” Dre asks.

Oscar laughs. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing Rhys’s shoulders. “Garrett’s got us, right?”

“Heck no,” Rhys answers, his hand on my neck, tilting my head up again. “I got Liv, and only Liv.” He presses his lips to mine.

“I didn’t even swear!”

Rhys chuckles. “Exactly.” Then he turns to Oscar. “You’d really want to play with Double D’s?”

“Double D’s?” Dre and Dom ask at the same time.

Rhys presses his lips tight while Oscar laughs. “Ask Rhys. He made it up.”

My phone alerts me to a Venmo payment from Rhys with the description “Swear jar!” Then he gets up, looking between Dominic and Dre. “Because you’re a pair oftits.”

68

Rhys

If you’d ask me a year ago if I could ever picture myself sitting in the stands of the gym at Philips Academy, I would’ve laughed in your face and told you to go fuck yourself.

On the court, sure. I’ve done it plenty of times. But here?Supportingthe Phantoms? Never.

Ever.

The volume in the gym doubles suddenly, and next to me, Max stands. “There’s Dom!” He waves at his big brother, who just walked through the gym doors with his entire team behind him. “Over here!” Max yells.

Dom grins, waves back, and then makes his way over to us. Fist bumps for me, Max, Dad and Curtis, and kisses on the cheek for my mom, sister, and Belinda. Curtis and Belinda’s daughters are here, too, but they’re off doing cartwheels on the sidelines with a bunch of other kids. Next comes Dre, and then Oscar, and the rest of his team. They take up the entire row in front of us. Over the next few minutes, more and more people arrive, untilthe only room left in the gym is standing. I lean forward and ask Dom, “Is it always this packed?”

“No,” he laughs, shaking his head.

Oscar turns to me, decked out in Phantom’s gear. “He went up during assembly and threatened to throw state if the entire school didn’t show up.”

The moment I sit back, Max is right in my ear, whispering, “Did you bring thething?”

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