Page 89 of The Game Plan

“I’m guessing it has something to do with your disciplinary hearing.”

I gape at her. “How—”

“You’re not very smart,” she says.

“Mackenzie,” Dad warns.

“You’re not good at hiding your thoughts,” she amends. “It’s been hanging over you for weeks. You finally have your hearing, and then you dump her? You’re an idiot. She’s the best fucking thing that’s happened to you in years.”

“Of course she is,” I snap. “She’s amazing.”

“Then why the hell did you dump her?”

“She… she…” I’m at a loss for words.

Sam doesn’t care if I’m weak. She doesn’t care if I’m benched or playing—she likes me all the same. She wanted to support me, and she did the only thing she knew how. What does it matter if her fraternity friend compiled those videos? Apparently they’re all readily accessible online anyway. They haven’t gone viral yet. Maybe they won’t. Maybe there isn’t a ticking timeline over my head.

She’s heard all of the poisonous bullshit O’Rourke has spewed—and she doesn’t care. She knows better than to believe it.

I should have given her the benefit of the doubt.

Shame strikes me like lightning. I should have heard her out. I should have opened up to her instead of shutting down. I should have talked about my feelings instead of abruptly ending it. I should have—I should have—

I should have told her I love her when she was more receptive to hearing it. She’s never going to want me back now. She’s not going to welcome me back with open arms. I’ll be lucky to get a second of her time. All of her smiles? Those won’t be mine. Not anymore. I don’t deserve them. I don’t deserve her forgiveness.

“Try to make it up to her,” Mack says gently. “Apologize. Prove how much of an idiot you were. If she knows you the way you claim she does, she’ll know this is what you do. You’re a quitter.”

“I’m not a quitter,” I say, quietly but firmly. I straighten my spine and square my shoulders. “I’mnota quitter.”

“Then go get your girl back, big guy,” she says, clapping me on the back.

I scowl. “You don’t get to call me that. Only she gets to call me that.”

Chapter thirty-four

Sam

WhetherIwanttogo or not, formal is going to happen. I have a dress. Tamar curled my hair. Lex did my makeup. My nails are freshly painted and my legs freshly shaved. I don’t think Jake and I will be getting busy, tonight or any other night.

I don’t want to go to formal with Jake. I don’t want to go to the big dance, period. He was a last resort escort, and he knows it. He doesn’t care. He’s still too broken up over the breakup with Stacey to date for real. I’m okay with that. We’re friends; we’re only ever going to be friends.

I’m nearly ready to go when there’s a knock on the door. It’s probably Jake, ready to walk me over to the Kappa house.

I open the door to find not Jake but Miles on the other side, wearing a suit and tie.

I haven’t seen him in three long days. I’ve been avoiding the dining hall at our regular meal times. I take the long way through Athlete’s Village to get to campus. I do everything I can to disrupt my normal predictable habits.

And a lot of crying on the couch. My teammates are good at cheering me up. A B+ on my statistics midterm didn't hurt, either. They just keep shoving pints of ice cream into my hand. I’m not complaining. My dress zipper might protest it, but my soul has been soothed. I can’t cry any more tears over him. I refuse to allow it.

“What are you doing here?”

I have to resist the urge to fling myself at him.

“I told you I’d be here.” He thrusts a bouquet of flowers at me. Sunflowers. My favorite. “For you.”

I don’t know what to think, how to react. He’s here. He’s seeking me out. After three days of avoiding him, I’m confronted by the reality of the situation: I don’t want to avoid him.

But I don’t know that I’m ready to forgive him quite yet. He can’t sweep this under the rug.

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