Page 3 of The Midseason Fakeout

I can tell them what it’s like to ride the bench, though.

By the time our group breaks up, I feel further apart from them than ever.

“You okay?” Cade asks as he scoots out of the booth.

I shrug. “Just feel like shit about everything.”

“The past is the past.” He swallows, gaze falling away from me and landing on the floor. “There’s nothing you can do about it.” Perking back up, he says, “Reid would say: ‘in the grand scheme of things, one game don’t mean shit.’”

He emphasizes each word and slaps me on the back when I stand. “Yeah, man, I know.”

“Practice, bright and early. I’m sure there will be more lines in your future.”

My legs ache just thinking about it. Coach has had me running lines for the last three practices. I’ve been running lines so much I was surprised he didn’t have me running them during the game itself. Give everyone a reason to talk about why I wasn’t playing. I’m sure they’re already speculating. The loss will only make their hypotheses worse.

“Don’t I know it.” I chuckle for Cade’s benefit, and then he’s out, leaving me, West, and Kenna.

West places his hand on my shoulder. “Unless you need to talk, I was going to spend the night at Kenna’s.”

“I’m good,” I tell him. I’d rather be by myself tonight anyway. You know, really make myself feel like shit.

West stares at me a little longer, like he’s trying to make sure I’m telling the truth. Eventually, I walk out behind them, and Kenna gives me a small wave before they climb into the Hulkmobile and I get in my Charger, a gift from my parents when I turned sixteen. Well, my adoptive parents. If my birth mom even remembers me on my birthday—or any other time for that matter—she never reaches out.

The drive to campus is short, made shorter because my mind is too preoccupied. I step out, shutting the door behind me and locking it before walking toward my dorm. There’s a chill in the air, so I pick up the pace.

A girl squeals, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “Aidan Michaels! Why weren’t you playing?” It’s Friday night, so of course there are drunk students everywhere. Without waiting for me to answer, she and her friend start giggling and talking in hushed whispers. I hear the wordshe’s a whole-ass snackand smirk despite being annoyed. Before, that would’ve been enough of an invitation to waltz over and put the charm on her. One of them would’ve been in my room within half an hour. Or we’d end up going to some party where we’d find ourselves in an upstairs bedroom. Or, hell, there was an instance in a dark conference room at one of the nicer hotels in town during a community event.

That Aidan had a lot of fun, but he didn’t have his eye on the prize, and it was unfulfilling as hell.

I keep my head down and walk on, ignoring both of them. When I come around the side of the building, I spot two figures waiting at the front entrance. I groan inwardly. One’s a girl—a beautiful one at that. And the other is…

Oh shit.

“What the…” I start.

“Hey, bro!” Darrin calls out. He walks forward, and the girl walks up with him. I give him a short hug with a handshake, my gaze sliding over the girl briefly. She’s even prettier up close.

Lucky bastard.

“What’s up? What are you doing here?” I ask when we step away.

The girl comes up then. She throws her arms around me, and I nearly stumble. Placing my hands on her hips, I try to push her away, but she has a viselike grip on me. “Please go with whatever I say,” she whispers in my ear.

I finally get her off me, and she stands before me, hands on my arms. Now that she’s so close, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize her. This isn’t one of Darrin’s girlfriends, it’s his younger sister, Bailey. She flutters her lashes at me, a stricken look on her face. Her hair is in waves down to her shoulders, spun like gold and kissed with honey. In the air between us, her perfume still lingers, its blend of provocative flowers nearly drawing me closer. I haven’t seen her in a few years, and she’s…gorgeous.

Darrin sighs. “Dude, you don’t need to act. I know you guys are seeing each other.”

Seeing each other?

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, my gaze dropping to Bailey in confusion. Her full lips mouth a silent “Please?”Her perfectly manicured hands come up in a prayer position while she gives me doe eyes.

I don’t know what this is about, but my hero complex rears its head. I can never stand to see someone in trouble. Especially not someone like Bailey.

“It’s okay,” Darrin forces out. “I only hate you a little for not telling me first.”

My mind whirring, I stand there speechless. I wish I knew what was going on. And how the hell Bailey grew up looking that fine in a simple sweater, her chest filling it out perfectly. The color on her lips matches. She looks like she stepped out of a beauty magazine.

Bailey moves next to me and grabs my hand. “Darrin, can you give us a few minutes? I didn’t tell him you knew, so he’s probably in shock. And he, you know, probably wants to talk…alone.”

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