“Maybe one of them,” I say carefully, not wanting it to get back to the group that I claimed to be something I’m not.
“How long has she been with Chase?” Isabel asks.
“Basically forever, as far as I can tell.”
“They must be really in love,” she says with a sigh. When I don’t answer, she just stares at me, like she’s waiting for me to confirm.
The other team runs over one of our players to score, and I hope Isabel will be distracted by the boos of the crowd when no foul is called.
“So, do they really love each other?” she presses.
“Yeah, obviously,” I grit out.
Suddenly sitting here alone doesn’t sound so bad.
“Does he only like blondes?” she asks, chewing at her fat lower lip as Chase and Colin trot onto the floor to relieve two senior guys.
“He only likes Lindsey,” I say flatly, but Isabel is busy jumping up and down and screaming like a fangirl when Chase hits a jump shot the first play off the bench. He glances in our direction before going back to the game, and Isabel collapses beside me in a fit of giggles.
“Did you see that?” she asks, grabbing my arm, her eyes huge and shining with joy. “He looked at me!”
“So did half the people here,” I mutter, ducking my head. “You screamed like someone shanked you.”
“You’re so funny,” she squeals, batting my leg. “Ollie didn’t tell us you were funny.”
My heart flips, and my gaze finds Oliver, who’s dribbling slowly along the three-point arc. He pulls up, and his defender goes up, batting at empty air when Oliver doesn’t shoot. Instead, he ducks by while his guard is off-balance and makes a high, arching shot that settles into the net with a quiet swish.
I want to ask Isabel why Oliver is saying anything at all about me, and what he’s said, but I hold myself back. It doesn’t matter. He’s in the enemy camp.
For the rest of the half, we watch Chase sprint all over the court, harassing the other team mercilessly. Isabel gets so excited every time he scores that I wouldn’t be surprised if she ran down onto the floor and tackled him.
At halftime I go down to get a drink, and Todd catches me in his beseeching gaze. I get my soda and step outside. The February wind is a biting, bitter cold that instantly brings tears to my eyes. A few hard flakes of snow pierce my skin like frozen needles. I call my mom to check in as arranged, so she knows I haven’t made a run for the border on my first night of freedom. Todd comes out while I’m on the phone and wraps his giant parka around my shoulders.
When I hang up, he puts his arm around me. “I miss you, Sky.”
“Are we really going to talk about this now?” I ask.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”
I sigh. “Why are you doing this? If I can’t give you what you need, there are plenty of girls who can.”
“I don’t need anything you can’t give me.” He huddles down in his t-shirt, looking miserable.
“Then why did you sleep with Elaine?”
The wind bites into my face, achingly cold, and suddenly I want to cry. I don’t even know why. It’s not like I’m in love with Todd. But of all the girls, why her?
“It had nothing to do with you,” he says. “I don’t want any other girls. I swear.”
I slide his jacket off my shoulders and hand it back to him. “I’ll think about it.”
I don’t know why I’m stalling, since I already know I’m going to take him back. Now that he’s not with Elaine anymore, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal. He’s sweet, and Lindsey pretty much told me I’d be left out if I’m not part of a couple. I could do a lot worse.
Todd follows me inside and up into the bleachers. As soon as we sit down, Isabel starts pumping him for information about Chase.
After her third of fourth question, he frowns and says, “If you want to know so much about Chase, why don’t you ask him?”
I almost take him back on the spot.
