Reece shoved me toward the door again. “Nope. I looked it up, and the Internet says it’s a gray area, often considered no big deal per the consent forms the high school has on file.”
“Then I’ll just tell Principal Carson I don’t want to do the interview. He can’t make me.”
Reece held up his hands. “Dude. The minute you tell the principal no, then it gets back to Coach, and then—”
“Oh. I’m not—”
“You’re not a team player and taking one for the school,” Reece concluded.
“That’s so dumb.”
“What can I say? Adults are weird.” Reece edged past me. “Now, my truck. Brielle. Get out of here.” He shot instructions at me like Nerf bullets. “We’ll deal with the consequences of skipping school later.”
“Fine.”
Sometimes I wished I’d never come to this school. That we’d never moved to Wisconsin. That life was totally different. But then . . . I looked down at Reece’s truck keys in my hand, and the idea of an afternoon just me and Brielle gave me an unexpected surge of excitement. If I’d never come here— or if I’d never agreed to this scheme—I wouldn’t have probably even paid attention to Brielle, even if she was Reece’s sister.
And that would be disappointing.
I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do with that feeling.
Maybe it was time I bought myself some chocolate. Girls may have that coping mechanism right after all.
Chapter 17
Brielle
I’d never played hooky before. But I did have the brains to call my mom—I wasn’t calling Dad, nope, not happening—and let her know there was media at the school, so Reece hadencouraged me to leave—that was how I put it. Mom went all mama bear and said she’d call the school right now and give them “what for” for even considering allowing public media to interview her child. “My baby girl” was used multiple times, and that’s how I knew by the time I saw Dad, he would be on my side too. Mom had a way of helping Dad see that sometimes my decisions had good intentions, even though the way I got there wasn’t how he would have done it.
I had texted Lia as I hurried to Reece’s truck, but she was busy, so I wasn’t able to call her. But her text reply made my heart skip.
Tell Brooks you loved the chocolate. That no matter what anyone says, chocolate is the way to your heart.
I wasn’t even going to make a big deal about Brooks’s attempt to be Valentine’s Day nice. The poor guy was just doing his best.
Yeah, my empathy for Brooks had increased a ton since I’d learned about his home situation. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if my parents were that dysfunctional.I mean. Dad could be tough, and Mom was almost too emotional about her “babies,” but in the end, we were a unit. A family.
Brooks didn’t have that.
So even now, as I whipped open the passenger-side door of Reece’s beater-gray truck he called Zeke, I wanted to be there for Brooks.
He grinned at me as I slammed the door shut. “This was unexpected.”
“Right?”
“Where to?”
We stared at each other for a moment, and then we busted out laughing. Probably because we were both nervous and excited at the same time. There was a rush of adrenaline breaking free from school.
“This won’t affect baseball tryouts, will it?” The idea suddenly hit me out of nowhere.
Brooks’ eyes darkened for a moment, and then he shook his head. “My mom will take care of it.”
“How?” I asked.
He didn’t give me an answer beyond, “She’ll say the media was affecting my mental health or something.”
I had to admit, it probably wasn’t much different than my own mom calling the school right now. Only, Brooks’s mom was out of town, and I thought it was interesting that he didn’t mention his dad.
