I’m developing against my brother is wrong. It’s not his fault that he figured out how to talk to Abby like a human before I did. Hell, he had no clue I had a real thing for her. I flirt with everyone. Abby’s just the only one to ever shoot me down, over and over. Me hitting on her and her telling me to eff off became our routine, a one-act show that we perform at every party and in every class we have together.
And then, I don’t know . . .
I even liked the rejection. It was attention, a push-pull that was a challenge, yeah, but also, she has this edge that feels, I don’t know . . . a lot like me?
I have to stop this cycle, though, otherwise I’m going to spin out. I slept through Wednesday, and I’ve been about as social as a toad all day at school, but I can’t completely turn away from the outside world just because I have a crush that hurts to deal with. It’s time to find my groove again, especially since Hayden and I are heading right from practice to our first family therapy session. If I bring this mood in there, nobody is going to make progress, which is what my mom keeps preaching this is all about. Making progress. Some fucking family goal.
The junior high moved their players outside for practice, which has all of these twelve- and thirteen-year-olds pissed as hell at us. One kid calls me a douchebag on my way into the locker room I long ago outgrew.
“Yeah, you too, kid,” I say back, getting a rise out of Hayden and a few of the other guys nearby.
I dump my gym bag on the bench and change out of my jeans and sweatshirt into shorts and a T-shirt, then take a seat to wipe down the bottoms of my basketball shoes. Hayden drops his stuff next to me and I catch the photo on his phone screen of him with his arms wrapped around Abby. The angle is weird because it’s a selfie. Couple shit.
Deep breath, Tory. Deep breath.
“Hey, nice job landing Cortez, man. You tap that yet?” Chaz, whose real name is Chad but insists on forcing everyone to use the stupid z, tabs his shoes against my brother’s back as he walks by and takes a seat on the next bench over.
“Oh, ha, yeah. Thanks, man. And I don’t-I don’t talk about that stuff.” Hayden’s respectful, but his grin is super evasive and full of innuendo. I drop my shoes to the floor and let them land with a heavy smack against the concrete. Chaz and Hayden both look my direction.
“Sorry.” I shrug.
Not sorry.
“That’s gotta really piss you off, right?” Chaz’s question lingers unanswered. I don’t bother to look up because I assume he’s just goading my brother about not getting laid or some shit. Frankly, I’m glad Hayden isn’t talking about it. If he’s gotten to that level with Abby, I’m going to have a really hard time ejecting that visual from my head.
“Ah, I see. Silent treatment, huh?” Chaz keeps going, and I finally look up to catch him leaning forward, arms resting on his knees so he can stare at me like a major asshole.
My brow wrinkles.
“What the fuck?” I glare at him for a full second, then lean forward and slip my feet into my shoes, lacing them tight around my ankles.
“Ha! Baby Hayden sweeping in and taking what big brother thought was his. Yo, your brother hates you right now,” Chaz taunts, thinking he’s super clever playing around with the meaningless fact that I slid out of my mom’s vagina a full minute before Hayden did. What an ass!
I stand without reacting, finding inner strength I didn’t know I had, and stop with my stance square with Chaz. I palm the side of his face a few times with a playful force.
“Why don’t you just run along now and get the water for us starters, yeah?” I wink and flash a tight smile before turning and heading into the gym, catching the deep oooooh that sounds behind me from my teammates. Hayden’s voice better be in that mix.
After jogging a few laps around the gym that once seemed so big when I was little, we all circle up at center court and begin our stretches. The tension left from my little moment with Chaz is still very much present, and there’s hardly a sound other than