Page 194 of Heartache Duet

“Get off him!” Mom shouts.

I stay quiet, watching the boy I love play a game he loves, or at least trying to, but he’s so deflated, so hopeless. And I can see it in the way his shoulders sag, see it in the furrow of his brow and the tenseness in his jaw. He’s frustrated, and the only people who deserve that frustration are in suits warming the bench.

Fuck Rhys and Mitch.

They ruined this for him.

The buzzer sounds for the end of the first quarter and the score’s 30-12 with Philips leading, and while most of our scoring has been done by Connor, it’s only due to the constant fouls against him.

Philips is out for blood.

And Connor is their target.

“God, he’ll be hating this,” I mumble.

“No shit,” Trevor responds.

Second quarter starts and his opponents have changed, but there are still two of them, and with fresh legs, they shut Connor out completely.

“Fuck!” Mom shouts. And I feel her frustration to the core. Ten minutes in and Coach Sykes forces Connor to sub out. The camera focuses on him as he slumps down on the bench, a towel going to his face. He keeps it there while his shoulders drop, his chest heaving. I can’t even imagine how drained he must be. How disappointed. His spirit’s crushed, and I can it see it through the screen. When he finally removes the towel, his eyes are red, raw, as if he already knows it’s over, not just for the team, but for him, too. A frown tugs at my lips, my chest aching at the sight of him.

“Where’s the game being played?” Mom asks out of nowhere.

“At Wyndham Tech.”

“How far away is that?”

“It’s about fifteen minutes from here.”

Mom stands quickly. “Well, go, Ava! He needs you.”

My breath catches. I’d give anything to be there with him. For him. But… “How am I going to go? I don’t drive. Trevor would have to take me, and you can’t be alone.”

Mom lifts her chin. “So, we’ll all go!”

“What?!” Trevor and I yell at the same time.

“Get your shit,” Mom rushes out. “Shoes. Keys. Coat. Quick, quick! Our boy needs us!”

We don’t ask if she’s sure she wants to go, to be seen in public by a lot of people, because she’s the one herding us out the door within minutes. “You better drive fast, boy, or I swear…” Mom mumbles, clicking in her seatbelt as soon as we’re in Trevor’s truck.

To my surprise, Trevor floors it all the way to the complex. Thanks to a minor hiccup buying tickets to actually get into the game, we’re standing courtside (thanks to people’s fear of my mom’s appearance when she pushes them out of the way) just as the teams are coming back from the half-time break. The moment I see him, my heart begins to race. I cup my hands around my mouth, yell, “Boo!” But the crowd is too damn loud, and he’s too focused, and so I suck in a breath, prepare my lungs. “BOO, LEDGER! BOOOO!”

“Why are you jeering him?” Trevor asks.

“Just trust me,” I tell him. “BOO, LEDGER!”

Then Mom joins in, “BOO! BOOOOO!”

And I’ve never loved my brother more than when he mumbles, “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” He picks me up effortlessly, and I grasp on to his head as lifts me higher, sitting me on his shoulders. “BOO, LEDGER!” He yells so loud the crowd around us quiets.

“Boo!” Mom screams, and Oscar, Connor’s teammate, finally turns around to see what all the crazy taunting is about. When he finds me, a flash of a smile curves his lips, and he backhands Connor’s arm, motions his head toward me. Connor looks up, Up, UP, his eyes huge when he sees us. I see him mouth, “one second” to his coach, and then he jogs toward us while Trevor puts me back on my feet.

Connor’s shocked, clearly, his eyes shifting between Mom and me over and over. He settles on me first. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed—”

It’s all I can get out before I’m in his arms, his hand gripping the back of my head. He holds me to his chest, where magic beats heavily against my cheek. “God, I’m so glad you’re here, babe. I’m getting destroyed out there.”

---