Page 82 of Don't Let Go

Rory sighed and hit the wall again. It wasn’t as loud this time. It sounded like she banged her head against it. “I know. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

A couple of moments went by and Rory broke down crying. I wanted to speak up and say something encouraging or share a joke to lift her spirits, but then she’d know I listened to her conversion.

Why was she so short with Chloe? Why did she have a gun? What was Rory capable of? At what lengths would Rory stop to get the answers she needed?

I moved away from the wall. I couldn’t listen to her whimper and not help or comfort her in some small way.

My appetite died. I tossed the spaghetti into the trash can next to my desk. To escape my thoughts, I laid on my bed and listened to music through my headphones, trying to drown out all the questions flooding my brain. I needed to quiet the voices linking Rory to crime families, to mobsters, to the mafia.

Rory couldn’t be involved in a mafia.

A good girl.

A good girl with a golden heart.

A good girl with a broken heart.

A lost girl with a lot of dark secrets.

A troubled girl with a taste for danger.

Maybe I didn’t know anything about Aurora. Maybe I never did.

The new routine in the house left a foul taste in my mouth. Rory drove herself to school. Sofia dropped off Carmen and then went to work, taking Franco and Lorenzo with her. I was always the last one to leave. Sometimes, I’d stop and look at the spot where Lizzy was shot. All the evidence washed away, but I could still see her lying there helpless when I closed my eyes.

James hit the side of my back. “Are you looking forward to tonight?”

I closed my locker and tried to remember what tonight was. “Yeah?” I answered, having no clue what we were talking about.

He tapped the side of his temple. “Don’t you remember we’re playin’ Lincoln High, bro? Where’s your head?”

“That’s tonight? Shit.” I shook my head and hit myself on the forehead with a closed fist. “Life’s been a blur since Lizzy passed.”

James squeezed my shoulder. “I bet, man. I can’t believe the shit you’ve been through.”

Rory walked by her with friends. I stared after her, hoping she’d turn and look back. She kept moving like I was nothing but another face in the crowd.

James must’ve watched her pass by as well. “The pain she must be goin’ through has to be indescribable.”

I tugged on my earlobe. “Yeah. It’s been rough. I’ll see you at practice?” This conversation needed to be over.

“Hell yeah! We’re hitting the court as soon as school’s over to score some extra hoops before Lincoln rolls in with their losing asses. For the first time, South Ridge will win a championship!” We bumped fists and pulled in for a quick side hug. “Get your head screwed on right, aite man? We need you to win this.”

“For the gold trophy,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. It felt more like a coat hook stuck in my mouth.

“For that trophy!” James hollered, running down the hall, chanting like a lunatic.

“Just what I need, more stress,” I muttered, walking toward my next class.

I knew the game with Lincoln was coming up and I had stomach ulcers to prove my angst. Sometimes, I woke up in a cold sweat after dreaming about losing to Lincoln and Quincy mocking me, saying I’d never achieve anything now that I was a Mustang.

With everything that’s happened, I spacedthegame. I forgot about the state championship, and that was something I thought about every day back in Scottsdale.

I couldn’t focus on anything my teachers said; it all sounded like the adults in thosePeanutscartoons.

Soon enough, the final bell rang, and I slipped into the boys’ restroom to splash cool water onto my face before I went to practice. The toilet on the far end by the wall flushed. Shit. I’m not alone.

The stall door flung open and out walked Paolo. He wiped the side of his nose with his thumb and stood beside me as he washed his hands. He had this sick, morbid smirk and a murderous glee in his eyes. We stared at each other for a long moment in the mirror.

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