Page 89 of The Fake
Tears prick behind my eyes. I can’t believe they showed up for me.
“Chloe isn’t even taking Microeconomics. Ask her.”
Coach glances from them to me, weighing their words and trying to decide to entertain it, from the look on her face.
“If it isn’t yours,” she asks me. “Then whose is it?”
My stomach drops. “I can’t tell you that, but I swear it’s not mine.”
She presses her index fingers to her temples and rubs with a pained expression.
I’m so mad at Nathan and myself too for getting swept up in a guy I clearly don’t know. This is what happens when you live in a make-believe world—reality eventually crashes down.
Murmurs from the doorway brings my attention back to where Sydney and Emily stand. Bri pushes past them into the office, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen her. “The textbook doesn’t belong to Chloe. The truth is, it’s my fault. I put it in her bag.”
“What?” I ask, shocked by every word that came out of her mouth.
She doesn’t look at me as she continues. “I found it near Chloe’s things and I just assumed it was hers. I put it in her bag, but I had no idea what was inside.” Her gaze flits to me, but she doesn’t quite look me in the eye. “My bad, Chloe.” She shrugs and looks back to Coach. “Emily and Sydney were with me, they can vouch for her.”
Emily nods, and Coach looks to Sydney. “That true?”
“Definitely,” Sydney says a little too enthusiastically. She might be overselling it a bit.
I chance another look at Bri but her hard expression is pinned away from me.
I fix my gaze back on my lap while Coach mutters about being too old for this drama and nonsense.
“I’ve half a mind to suspend all four of you.”
We’re like stone as she studies each of us.
“Next time, I will.”
Sydney gives a little squee of excitement, but I keep my own joy shoved down because nothing about this feels like a victory yet. My teammates finally had my back and I want to be happy about that, but it’s shrouded in the reality that because of my friendship I nearly took them down with me.
* * *
Nathan
Coach holds Joel and I back after practice to talk about how things are going with the freshmen. I let Joel do most of the talking. I’m too amped, too nervous, too anxious to see Chloe and explain. She hasn’t responded to my calls or texts, but I know they’ll be back soon. This conversation is really better in person anyway.
I need her to see the sincerity on my face. I want to wrap her in my arms and hold on forever, let her feel the apology in my touch. Because I am so fucking sorry and I know words won’t be enough.
“Nope,” I say, a little too eagerly after Coach asks if I have anything else to add to Joel’s summary. “That it?”
He chuckles as he shakes his head. “Hot date, Payne?”
“Something like that,” I say as I jog backward a few steps and then turn and run the rest of the way to the locker room.
I swap my shirt for one that isn’t soaked in sweat, but that’s all I make time for. If the bus isn’t here, it should be any minute.
I jog to the other side of the building. As I get close to their locker room, a few of the volleyball girls are walking out but Chloe isn’t with them. But she’s here. The panic and relief wreaking havoc on my insides tells me she’s nearby.
Shaw steps away from the wall and in front of me. I’d been so focused on finding Chloe I didn’t see him. “She’s in with the coach now.”
“I gotta get in there.” I try to step past him, but he moves with me.
“Negative.” Shaw knows a very short version of what’s going on since he came out of his room to see why I was freaking out and terrorizing the place when I was looking for the textbook. “Sydney and a couple others are in there with her. They’ll take care of her. Sydney might look sweet and innocent, but she’d throw herself overboard before letting someone she cares about go down.”
