Heartache and Hope (Heartache Duet #1) - Jay McLean Page 0,25

me. “Truce,” he yells.

“Your truces mean nothing!” I shout back.

“Triple truce!” he counters.

I walk toward the car slowly, anticipating his next move. When I get to the open door, I see him watching me, his head dipped, his bottom lip between his teeth. I gracelessly sit and quickly shut the door, deodorant still in my hand.

“You’re an asshole,” I say playfully, spraying him with his chosen weapon.

He chuckles, starts driving again. “What can I say? I like to watch you run.”

It turns out Connor comes to school this time on Mondays because he has a short practice. I tell him the truth about why I do, to see Miss Turner. He simply nods. When I ask if he’s curious as to why I was seeing her, he shrugs, says, “I mean, it’s pretty obvious you’re a sociopath.”

I spray his entire body.

He laughs it off, cranks his window up, and breathes it in as if it’s fresh air.

If anyone’s a sociopath here, it’s him.

Connor and I walk together to Miss Turner’s office, as it’s on the way to the gym. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, my hand on the doorknob. I twist. Push. Nothing happens. Connor laughs, peels off a note stuck on the office window.

Miss Turner is ill. No sessions today.

“Seriously?” I groan, slamming my open hand on the door. And because I’m an idiot, I try the door again, my forehead touching the timber. “Doesn’t she know about texts or emails?”

Connor says, sticking the note back up, “Yeah, you sure seem like you could’ve used that extra hour to sleep in, cranky.”

I narrow my eyes at him, backhand his brick wall of a stomach. “Go to your stupid practice.”

He feigns hurt, only for a second, before asking, “What are you going to do?”

“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