Page 13 of As You Walk On

After we’ve finished our bowls, Darrenfinallyorders the mochi ice cream. Weak-minded, that one. I tense up a little when he tells the waitress to bring one bill. The Jacobs household of overachievers isn’t quite on the level of financially gifted as the Scotts, but they’re doing really well.

The proof: Darren has a family credit card.

Jay and Darren never flaunt their wealth to me. They’re both good at making it seem like it’s merely returning a favor. As if my friendship is enough. They’ll pay for food or a movie ticket. “Because you’re my boy,” they say.

But in moments like this, when Darren won’t meet my eyes while signing the receipt and pocketing that gold AmEx card, I’m reminded where they’re coming from and where I’m at.

As we wait on the ice cream, I study the new customers coming through the front door. Anything to avoid that weird sensation swirling in my stomach. Someone’s kid runs around singing “The Pee Song” with zero fucks given. A young woman struts in like she’s on a mission.

The bell above the door chimes one more time.

My heart climbs to the center of my throat. I’m light-headed watching a man I recognize stroll in.

Mario.

It’s like staring at a ghost. He looks mostly the same. Deep-brown complexion. Tall and built. Streaks of silver fleck his dark goatee. He’s a little less bouncy than I remember. Subdued, but still smiley like he knows the world will always embrace him.

I haven’t seen him since he moved to Texas years ago, crushing Dad’s heart. The aftershocks of their fallout led me to do one of the worst things ever.

It’s the reason Aleah Bird hates my guts.

“Dude, have you been on Jayla’s Insta?” Darren asks, shaking me from my daze.

I sink down in my chair, hoping Mario doesn’t see me. Hecan’tknow I’m here.

“Theo?”

Darren’s foot kicks mine under the table. I jolt. He shoots me a curious stare, trying to track my focal point. If he looks at Mario, then Mario might glance our way, and—

“What about Jayla?” I ask, panicked.

“She posted a cryptic message about backstabbing friends.” He lays his phone faceup on the table before excitedly rubbing his hands together. Darren loves gossip. A career at TMZ is in his future. “The comments are on fire. Everyone’s speculating it’s about what went down with the Ballers at state.”

Seriously, F my whole life.

The Ballers, Brook-Oak’s girls’ varsity basketball team. The one Aleah’s on.

“Really?” I fake interest, not even reading Jayla’s caption.

“It’s a shit show.”

Darren unloads all the details. His sources are suspect. Anyway, for a month, the whisper networks have been buzzing about the unexpected end of what was a record-breaking winning season for the Ballers. The two stars and besties—point guard, Aleah, and power forward, Lexi Johnson—imploded off the court. No confirmation on what happened two nights before the championship game, but the following Monday morning, all hell broke loose.

Lexi and her longtime boyfriend, Derek Miller, a senior on the boys’ team, called it quits.

Aleah wasn’t sitting with the Ballers at lunch anymore.

By the end of the day, someone had filled Aleah’s locker with crumpled paper, browned banana peels, and unwrapped condoms. Written on the outside in Sharpie:TRASH!Word is Derek cheated on Lexi with Aleah.

No one on the team is talking.

“We should go,” I say once Darren’s done ranting. “I need to—uh, you know. Rehearse what I’m gonna say to Christian tomorrow.”

“How about ‘I like you. Wanna go to prom?’ ”

“Psssh.”An almost genuine laugh escapes my lips.

I notice Mario seated on the other side of the restaurant. “I’m capable of far better game than that,” I say while scooting out of our booth.

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