Fadeaway by E. Vickers (ebook smartphone TXT) 📗

my shorts. “I’m going to do what I gotta do.” She locks eyes with me and we step toward each other, and I have no idea what’s about to happen, but I can’t wait to find out.

“Hey, guys!”

And then there’s Daphne.

Jenna and I snap out of it and spin to face her.

“What’s going on?” she asks. The girl’s smarter than Socrates, but she is not reading this room. Hallway. Whatever.

“Nothing,” we both say.

“Have either of you seen Seth?” she asks. “We were supposed to hang posters.”

“Nope,” Jenna says. “And I’ve got to go to work. Good talk, Kolt. Now go take a shower.” She slaps me on the butt again, then walks away, and damn if I don’t watch her do it.

“What was that about?” Daphne asks.

“Nothing.” I try to ask my question all casual. “So, what’s the deal with her?”

Daphne gives me the side-eye, and then her face clears. “You like her. Kolt! You like Jenna, don’t you?”

“Your face likes Jenna.” Definitely not my best work. “Seriously,” I beg. “Forget it.” Knowing Daphne, she’s about to do anything but that, so I cut her off. “Want to go shoot around?”

She looks at me like I am…not Socrates. “Um, Kolt, the season’s over.”

“Exactly! No pressure. No points. Let’s just play. You can study for the ACT later.”

“Kolt. Please tell me you’re joking. We’re seniors. You should have taken the ACT junior year, or at least last fall.”

Of course I’m joking. I got my acceptance letter from New Mexico two weeks ago. But she doesn’t need to know that. “Come on. My arms are Jell-O right now, so you might even be able to keep up.”

—

The gym is dark and echoes as the doors close behind us. “I’ll grab a ball, you get the lights.”

I’m in and out of the locker room with two worn leather basketballs, but the gym’s still dark.

“Sharp?” I call into the darkness. She’s across the room, over by the one safety bulb that’s always on. But she’s not really moving.

“I still can’t be here without thinking of him,” she says. “Just seeing you standing there was enough.”

I toss her a ball. “Can you be anywhere without thinking about him?”

She shakes her head, like she’s saying no, but also like she’s trying to clear something out.

“Sometimes I even think I see him. At the pharmacy, running down the street, coming out of Ms. Li’s room. I see him because I expect to and I don’t expect to. If that even makes sense. I wish it would stop, but I’m afraid of that too. Like it would mean he’s really gone for good.”

This makes two serious conversations with girls in the same day, bringing my all-time total to…two. I love Daphne like she’s my hella-smart sister, and I wish I could help her for real.

But there’s nothing I can do to bring Jake back. The best I can do is distract her.

“You’d better be afraid of me,” I say. “Because I have a serious medical condition. It’s called asskick-itis, and I’m about to show it to you on the court.”

Daphne can’t help herself. She smiles. “You know that ‘-itis’ means inflammation or swelling, right? So you have swelling in your butt from having your ass kicked? Is that what you’re telling me?”

She doesn’t know about the butt zit, does she?

Before I can ask, she knocks the ball from under my arm, and the game’s on, even though it’s still pretty dark.

The thing about me versus Daphne is that it’s really only interesting when she’s got the ball. She’s crap on defense and I’m no good at offense, especially one on one. But when she’s cutting and I’m anticipating or she’s head-faking and I almost fall for it—that’s when we’re both at our best.

She pulls up, but I block her shot and clear the ball past the three-point line. I may suck at offense, but I outweigh her enough that I can post up against her pretty well. My butt’s against her hip when I remember my secret weapon.

“Bad news, Sharp,” I say. “You’re right up against my butt zit.”

She backs off so fast I almost fall to the floor. “Gross, Kolt! Are you serious?”

I spin around and make an easy five-footer off the glass. “Yup. And it just gave me the lead.” I slap five on the tiny red circle on my shorts.

“I’m out,” she says, throwing up her hands. “Game over.” But she’s laughing so hard I can’t let her leave.

“Sharp, no! We’re sorry! That wasn’t fair. Two on one. How could you ever win? Stay. I’ll spot you five points in the next one.” I wrap my arms around her from behind, and she tries to pull my hands apart, but we’re both just playing. “If you’ve got one, you can invite her! It’ll be even teams again.”

Then the doors open, and there’s blinding light and a dark silhouette.

“Wow, sorry. Am I interrupting?”

Daphne and I break apart.

“Seth,” she says. “I tried to find you to help hang posters. We were supposed to meet at the weight room.”

“I was in the weight room in the annex. But I guess you found Kolt first.”

“It’s not like that—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Heads up, Kolt,” he says, and I swear I’ve never heard him sound so bitter. “Daphne comes here sometimes to get guys to fall for her. Right? I mean, first Jake, sophomore year, and then me, with Junior Warriors, and now…”

“Now nothing,” Daphne snaps. “Stop giving me a guilt trip for letting myself lighten up for five freaking minutes.” She’s fired up, and part of me wants to grab some popcorn and watch this thing from the bleachers.

But then she turns the murder eyes on me. “And while we’re all here, you two need to bury the hatchet on whatever crap you’ve got going on and stop lying to each other and to me and especially to the police. None of that solves anything.”

“I never lied to the police!” I say. “I didn’t tell