First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,20

court.” She smacks my ass. “You’re up.”

She’s right. Jesus, she’s fucking right. And even though Ava was the one to break things off, or to ask for a clean break, she had far better reasons—reasons out of her control—than just the simple fact that she couldn’t be around me because it was “too hard.” I suck. In so many ways. For so many reasons. “I don’t know how to fix it,” I admit.

Karen shakes her head, points to Coach. “No, you’re up.”

“We don’t have all damn day, Ledger!” Coach yells.

Oh. I run up and stand next to Rhys but keep my eyes on Ava. She’s smiling, but she doesn’t clap like she did with Rhys. Instead, she cups her hands around her lips and mouths, “Boo!”

Chapter 10

Ava

Surprisingly, the first couple of weeks of the new semester fly by. I don’t know if it’s the sudden change in my attitude or the fact that I stopped giving a shit about what people say or think about my family, but whatever it is, it’s made a difference, and I’m sure as heck not complaining.

I make it to first period earlier than everyone else because I don’t want a repeat of Miss Salas’s shaming, though I don’t think she’d do it again after my little rant to Miss Turner in one of my sessions. Soon enough, more and more students start to file in, and there’s a buzz in the air as if something big has happened. And as much as I’ve tried to keep up with all the school news, I’m clearly out of the loop.

From my seat in the back of the room, I see Oscar walk in with a few guys from the team who aren’t in this class. Then Rhys shows up with a bag full of something that he hands out to the guys. He sends a few of the girls in the room a smirk, making them weak at the knees, and then winks at me. I roll my eyes. Then Connor walks in, and as soon as he does, the room erupts with cheers. The team sprays him with bright orange Silly String, and Oscar lifts all 220 pounds of Connor off his feet, chanting his name, and what the actual fuck is going on?

I send Trevor a text.

Ava: Did we make the playoffs?

Trevor: Who?

Ava: The basketball team.

Trevor: Ava! I don’t know. I don’t even go to that school. And your best friend is a co-captain. So is your ex. Ask them.

Ava: I don’t want to. :(

Trevor: Then leave me alone with your dumbass questions. I’m trying to earn a living.

Ava: You’re grumpy.

Trevor: You’re stubborn.

Ava: Once upon a time, you were my favorite brother.

Trevor: Once upon a time, my sister grew the hell up and stopped being such a brat.

Ava: Fine. Love you. Bye

Trevor: Love you, too. Shithead.

“Okay, everyone!” Miss Salas exclaims, walking into the room. She dumps her stuff on the desk and continues, “Everyone who isn’t part of the class, leave immediately.”

Oscar puts Connor back on his feet, and the other boys leave. Connor takes a moment to remove all the Silly String from him and the floor—with the help of a couple of girls in the class—and trashes it all. He finds an empty seat in the front of the room, and I bring up my phone again, send him a text.

Ava: Um. What?

I watch Connor sneak his phone under the desk and read the message. He looks behind him, searching, and finds me in the rear of the room. When Miss Salas’s back is turned, Connor rushes to the empty seat beside me. “What’s up?” he whispers, his mouth so close to my ear, I can feel the warmth of his breath.

“What was that about?” I whisper back.

He pulls away, offers a shrug.

I tap his leg with mine. “What just happened?”

Shaking his head, his eyes forward, he says, “It’s nothing.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

Connor chuckles.

I tap his leg harder.

He reaches down under the desk, puts his hand on my knee and squeezes. “Knock it off!”

I ignore the butterflies swarming in my stomach when he shifts his hand higher, his fingers on the inside of my thigh. “Connor,” I whisper. “Tell me!”

He moves his hand another inch, and my breath catches. He must notice because he turns to me with a smirk. Biting down on his lip, he quirks an eyebrow. Damn, whatever happened has made him cocky. I narrow my eyes, ignoring the repercussions of having my phone out on display, and