Page 4 of Spin The Bottle
“And your clothes take upsomuch space,” she emphasizes, making me want to punch her. Just a little. Fine, a lot. “Can you do it?”
“Do what?” I don’t even know what she’s talking about; I just want to get rid of her.
“Move out.”
Move out? Lord knows I want to, but I pay for that room. Granted, I barely use it anymore, but I can’t crash at Gabi and Madi’s forever. “And where am I going to go, Tiffany?”
She shrugs. “With those friends of yours. Or you could ask for a transfer.”
“Trust me. I’ve tried.” No one wants to switch, and there are no available rooms left, which means either I move out or I’m stuck with her.
“I don’t care what you do; just do it. Honestly, the quicker, the better.”
Like that’s an option. “I’ve got to go.” I push past her and pull up my phone, texting the girls. Guess I need to find a new place to stay.
2
I know your secret
There’s nothing I miss about Texas. It’s always way too hot, too many bugs, and, oh yeah, my family lives there.
For eighteen years, I’ve wanted to escape that hellhole, and now that I have, nothing in my body misses home. I hated it there.
But here? I’m a completely different person. I’m someone. Even though I know who I really am, these people don’t. The girls looking at me right now? All they see are my good looks and skills on the court. They don’t see beyond the image I’ve tried so hard to keep. I fucking love it.
I lift my chin at the group of girls walking past me, the redhead in the mix keeping her eyes on me until she leaves the room.
Jordan nudges me on the arm, bringing my attention back to the assignment in my hands. “Can you talk to Grayson about it?” he asks.
“He doesn’t do that anymore,” I tell him, stuffing the paper in my pocket.
He stops in his tracks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I shrug, opening the door. “It’s business class. It’s not hard.” Grayson’s side hustle of doing assignments for people stopped months ago. Even though I’ve never used his services, many of my teammates have, and now that he’s not doing that anymore, they have to actually work for their grades.
He laughs. “For you. I don’t have time for this shit. I have practice all week.”
“Coach still busting your balls?” I ask him, knowing damn well he is. Jordan’s good, but he can get distracted. Can’t fault Coach for wanting him to be more prepared.
“You have it easy.” His eyes narrow, and he lets out a laugh. “He treats you with kid gloves.”
“That’s not true.” His eyebrows lift, and I shrug. “Don’t be jealous just because I’m the best player on the team,” I joke, pushing through the doors to the courtyard.
He scoffs. “Best player, my ass.”
I let out a laugh. I might be teasing him, but I work hard for that spot. Being captain isn’t a joke to me or a pastime. Basketball is my number one priority. My only priority. So even though he might not agree, I will get there. I will be the best on the team, and I will get drafted. It has to happen; otherwise, I have nothing.
He lifts his chin. “You want to come over and play some games?”
“You sure you want to get another beating?”
He laughs. “Fuck you. You got lucky.”
“Right.” I let out a breath, shaking my head. “Can’t. I have work tonight.”
He laughs, like working is a joke to him, and it might as well be. “Dude, come on. You can get out of it.”
“I can’t.”
