“Excuse me, what?” Silas said in a rough, gravelly voice. “Ming, don’t do that.” His tone was scary. “Log out of that right now.”
“Mr. Dupree is Anna’s dad, remember?” Jasmine hissed and grabbed her phone from Ming’s hands.
“Uncle,” Silas growled, to let them know he’d heard.
Lemon bobbed her head. “Dad-Uncle. Duncle.” She was trying to diffuse a very tense situation. “But yeah.”
Alyssa let a swear word slip.
“No ma’am,” I barked. “Would you like to sit out the first set?”
“Sorry.” She slapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes went repentant toward Holden. “Sorry, Coach Dupree.”
Holden’s cheeks were bubblegum pink and I thought he might vomit. It seemed a bit extreme, even for the current situation. And if he didn’t want people seeing all those pictures, why even have social media? Or, you know, take them down.
“But like, thatisyour account, right?” Ming pushed.
I threw my hands up. “You three are in charge of chairs. Put them away.Now.”
“Geez. Okay, okay,” Ming whispered as they slowly walked away.
“But did you see how many women?” Alyssa giggled. “Hold ’em, Holden.”
“No. Mr. Mono.” Jasmine snapped her fingers. “Or Captain Kiss.”
My jaw tensed. “Girls.”
“We’re going,” Jasmine waved.
My fists balled. “Not fast enough.”
“I mean, he’s hot. I’d make out with him. Any night of the week.” I’m not sure which one of them said that, but it was the final straw. I was an idiot to like someone like him. If it hadn’t been clear before today it was glaringly obvious now.
Their whispering faded as they hurried faster. The four of us sat there, painfully silent for two heartbeats.
“Welp.” I stood. “I’m going to head inside.”
“Christy,” Holden said in that stupid voice, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even look at him. “Hey.”
“This has been…” I shook my head, avoiding eye contact with all of them. “Just…yeah.” I turned on my heel and hoofed it out of there.
Good grief, girl.I guess if you’re going to get yourself a fake boyfriend, make sure he’s not someone you could fall in love with. But if you can’t even be that smart, at least make sure he’s not Sir Snogsalot.
Eyes burning, I jogged across the parking lot. I threw the door open and stepped inside. JV already had the net up. A handful of girls were still braiding each other’s hair. But two-thirds of the team were practicing their serves. I turned when I realized the door never shut behind me. But Lemon was standing there, bright red hair backlit by the sun, chest liftingand falling, looking like a supermodel all flushed and serious. She must’ve run to catch me.
“Christy.” She stared at me, trying to catch her breath.
Why did everyone keep saying my name as if it had some magical power to fix all things? Clearly, Christy Thornbury was completely unmagical.
Lemon grabbed my elbow and pulled me off the court. Then she sat and patted a spot next to her on the bleachers. Okay, maybe she did want to be besties?
She sighed. “Look, I know we’re not friends. And unlikely allies at best. But there’s something you need to know about Holden.”
I blinked, dreading whatever was coming. It couldn’t be good. Maybe she’d tell me he was gay. Or a eunuch. Or the world’s first believable AI robot. But there was no way the woman who was now married to my ex would be here on a peace mission. It didn’t make any sense.
She turned to face me. “It’s not my place to tell you Holden’s story. And I think he’d be upset if I did. But you need to know that he’s been through some hard stuff. Like really hard.”
She paused, gauging my reaction. I sat up a little straighter. My eyes had finally stopped stinging. I nodded so she’d at least know I was listening.
