Page 35 of Heartache Duet

“Sit in the stands and shout boo every time the ball comes near you.”

Laughing, he says, “Why are you so mean to me?”

I hasten my steps to keep up with him. “Defense mechanism.”

“For what?” he asks.

To stop me from falling for you, stupid.

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

CONNOR

Ava comes through on her word. She sits front row center, in the gym stands. And as promised, the second a ball is in my hand, she shouts, “Boo!” Which garners looks from the other players, coaches, and the few spectators crazy enough to watch a half-hour practice session first thing Monday morning.

I shake my head at her, but she simply raises her eyebrows, a smirk on her lips, lips I’d love to—

“Ledger!” Coach Sykes yells. “This isn’t a teen soap opera. Get to work.”

“Boo, Ledger!” Ava shouts, and now she’s laughing, silently, but I know it’s there because I can see her shoulders shaking with the force of it. I’m too busy watching her that I don’t even notice Coach Sykes approaching me until the ball slams against my chest.

Ava laughs harder.

“You get one,” I tell her and decide that if she’s here to watch me, then I may as well give her a show.

The practice is nothing more than basic drills. But when the coach asks for suicides, I’m the first on the line. When he wants to work on ball handling, I’m using two balls, behind the back, reverse, between the knees, ankle breakers. When he asks for lay-ups, I’m power dunking—one after another.

“Damn, Ledger! Where the fuck have you been hiding?” Rhys shouts.

“Quit showing off!” Mitch yells. “We get it; you’re good.”

“He’s better than good,” Coach Sykes retorts. “In fact, every practice I want you all to come in with the same amount of power and precision that Ledger has! Got it?”

I throw Ava a smirk.

She gives me the finger.

* * *

Psychology may be my favorite subject in the history of forever. Scratch that. Ava is my favorite subject. Sitting side by side in class waiting for the teacher to arrive, she asks me questions:

Where am I from?

Why did I move here?

Who do I live with?

What’s my favorite murder?

I answer each one with truth, minus the murder one because I don’t even know how to answer it. Mitch walks past us, sniffing the air. “What the hell is that smell?”

We burst out in childish giggles. She says to me, “You were not at all impressive this morning. I just want you to know that in case you think otherwise. In fact, you pretty much sucked.”

Mr. McCallister enters the classroom saying, “You may spend the first ten minutes of class discussing your partner paper. Use that time wisely.”

Ava and I turn to each other at the same time, our knees knocking painfully. Ava groans, reaching for her knee, but I beat her to it, grimacing. I rub at the spot I think I hit, while we both apologize. Dipping my head closer to hers, I whisper, “So I worked on the outline like we said.”

She moves closer again. So close I can feel the heat of her cheek on mine. “Why are we whispering?”

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