Curvy Girls Can't Date Quarterbacks - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,76

swinging happily in his cage.

She looked up from her desk and stood. “Shut the door, will you?”

I nodded and closed it behind me, suddenly feeling trapped.

I’d been suspended. Was this a reprimanding session? A threat to behave? Another lecture on the impact of bullying?

“Sit,” she said gently.

Cautiously, I took a seat. Typically, she’d be chatting up a storm about a new bird food recipe she’d tried or how her homegrown tomatoes were doing, or anything really, but today she remained silent.

She took the seat behind her desk and folded her hands. “Rough week?”

I nodded, staring at the floor. My eyes stung. “Are we too far into the semester for me to switch to Brentwood Academy?” I was only halfway joking. My odds were better there than here. I might be a hero there, considering the fact that I’d practically won them the game.

She let out a heavy sigh and folded her hands on the messy desk in front of her. “We all know there’s more than one side to the story, and typically, neither side is entirely faultless. Aurora, I would like you to know that Ms. Alexander was similarly reprimanded by Headmaster Bradford.” Another sigh followed the first. “The Alexanders have negotiated an additional punishment for the two of you, which is keeping you both from expulsion.”

Of course the Alexanders had wielded their power yet again.

“Instead of Friday’s pep rally, we’ll be holding an assembly so both you and Merritt can apologize to Beckett—and each other.”

My throat clenched. Everything about that seemed wrong. Never mind about me. “You’re going to shame him twice?”

“Beckett’s dad has agreed.”

“And Beckett?”

She hesitated.

“Had no say,” I finished for her. I needed to find him before tomorrow, to let him know to skip the day before the game. He would hate something like this.

Her expression softened. “You’ve always been a good student, Rory. Your mother and father have done well with you. I’d like to see that streak continue.”

My jaw tightened. Everyone liked the “old” Rory better, but they didn’t understand that she didn’t exist. She was a façade carefully laid of expectations, held together by the mortar of safety and shame.

That was gone now. All that was left was my heart, shattered.

Her phone rang, and she said, “You may go.”

Forty-Five

I left her office and entered a graciously empty hallway. Pixie Adler must have been off-duty, because I didn’t even see her policing the long line of lockers. I took my time walking down the hall, planning on what I would say to Beckett.

I wanted to warn him, but I also needed to apologize to him, outside of the glow of stadium lights. I imagined standing in front of him, looking up slightly because of his height, staring into his stunning, soulful eyes, and telling him the truth. That I loved him, and that I was sorry.

One of the classroom doors opened, and I froze, on edge. Beckett’s fit frame slipped into the hallway, sucking all the air from my lungs. Hope lurched through my chest, tearing at my heart on the way.

As if sensing my presence, he turned and took me in, his eyes going from honey to steel. “What are you doing here?”

Any optimism I had left after his cold greeting was gone. The light was gone from his face, pain and distrust replacing it.

“Well?” he demanded.

I swallowed and took a step toward him.

He took a step back.

My heart shattered even more.

I wrung my hands and looked at him. “Please, let me explain.”

“I don’t know why you keep asking to explain,” he said. “You agreed to Merritt’s bet. It cost us the game, Rory.”

At that moment, I noticed the blue cast on his wrist. My heart fell. “You got injured?”

“I fractured my wrist,” he said harshly. “The team got trampled.”

Regret ripped through me, as well as anger at Merritt. “I was going to tell you after the game, I promise. I didn’t want to distract you.”

His eyes darkened. “So you lied to me instead?”

“I didn’t want to. Once I got to know you—and fell for you—I wanted to tell you, but there was never a good time...”

“You’re right. There was never a good time for the girl I loved to tell me it was all a lie.”

His word caught in my mind, ricocheted in my ears. “Loved?”

Anger ripped through his voice as his fingers did the same to his hair. “Damn it, Rory, I loved you! I didn’t mean to. I thought you were nice, and funny, and you were a hell of