“No. No committing felonies—in any form.” I run my hand down my face and stare at Ethan, painfully aware of his tendencies. I’m also pretty certain he had something to do withthe fire alarm last night. “And you guys need to get to your morning workouts. Quit bothering me.”
A ding from my back pocket draws their attention, eyes darting back and forth expectantly, as if I am going to read my messages to them out loud for a little story time.
Their stares bore into me, and I relent, pulling my phone out to see Kate’s name light up on my phone.
“It’s her,” Devon whispers as he looks over my shoulder.
“Thanks,” I snarl at him and open the message then immediately click my phone off and shove it back into my pocket. “Alright, time to end this.”
“Come on, what’d she say?” Travis whines.
“Let us help.” Daniels finally joins in with the brigade. My disappointment in him to fall under this teenage peer pressure is clear when he gives me an innocent shrug.
A silent beat passes as they all wait patiently. Again, I can just leave anytime I want and go back up to my room, but alas, I sit. “She’s going out with him again,” I say through clenched teeth.
A low, demeaning whistle is shared by a few guys, along with a few winces—winces, yes, because the truth of the situation is painful. Kate is going on a date with her ex, and she just sees me as her friend, yet I continue sitting at this damn table with these kids whispering all around me.
“We need the girls’ help on this,” Charlie says, pulling out his phone.
I abruptly slam my hand down on top of his phone, his childlike hand twitching under mine. “No!” I yell, startling the table out of their scheming. “It will get back to her.”
“They’ll be discreet,” Travis tries to reassure me.
“Nah, Geer is right. We can’t risk it. We gotta handle this on our own,” Devon says, nodding for Charlie to put his phone away. He does so reluctantly. “We all got game. We don’t need their help.”
Ethan and Garrett guffaw at that as Devon gives them a sly smile. The onlygamethese kids have is on the field. I really should be talking to my adult friends about my very adult dating-life situation, but I amstillsitting here. I shake my legs to make sure they have feeling in them, readjust in my seat, checking for any new gravitational pull that has overpowered me, and find nothing. Yep, I am sitting here by my own free will.
“So what are we gonna do?” Daniels asks the table. He’s fully invested in this now.
“I got it!” Garrett yells, his excitement is evident as he tries to wipe the smile off his face. Leaning halfway over the table, he lowers his voice to a whisper, and I find myself clenching the edge of my seat. I don’t have time for this. Using plots and schemes to win a girl over has never been my way. But I lean in, waiting for Garrett’s master plan, fear and excitement sticking to my skin like the salty air. The sliver of self-respect I was maintaining after waking up this morning is completely gone by the hands of six rambunctious teenagers when he says…
“We’re gonna crash their date.”
Chapter twenty
Kate
“Are you trying totorture yourself?”
Emma is the least-encouraging person right now as I pace up and down the side of the gymnasium floor, filling her in on my morning coffee date. I’m still not sure if we’re calling it a date—he didn’t even buy my drink.
“Three more laps, ladies!” I yell as the girls make their way around the running track on the second level of the gymnasium. I'm really enjoying this setup, sitting in the middle of the floor, directing my little puppets through stair sprints from my lawn-chair throne in the center of the gym. Well, it’s a fancy fold-out chair from the hotel. It has three different reclining positions that I have taken full advantage of.
“I’m not torturing myself. I’m just weighing my options.” I recline to the farthest setting, practically lying flat as the footrest pops out. “Plus, the guy looked pitiful. I think he just needs a friend.”
“Kate, y’all dated for three years. You can’t just chum it up like old pals from camp over a fancy Italian dinner,” she snips overthe sounds of wild children increasing in the background. “Boys! I’m on the phone!”
She has a point. It’s almost impossible to look at Eric and not remember our life together and not let those feelings resurface a tiny bit. But I wouldn’t call Tony’s Pizza afancyItalian dinner. By the looks of their outdated website, people can show up in beach towels and get their greasy slices on paper plates.
The girls round the corner on their final lap, each speeding up as they see the finish line.
“It’ll be fine.” My words sound painful as they leave my lips, tension crawling up my arms and legs as I try to stretch out in the chair. “It. Will. Be. Fine.”
“Are you trying to convince me? Or yourself?”
Emma laughs as I stutter and whine, “Sh–shut up.”
Passing the finish line, the girls barrel down the steps and rush onto the shiny wood floor. It glistens under the massive fluorescent lights that hang on the ceiling. This building is huge, with spotless, cream-colored walls and black cushioned stadium seats on every side. The college campus is ten minutes from our hotel, which means this is theirs, and they have relinquished use during their spring break for our camp. Coach Lawson has worked so hard the last ten years, arranging and organizing this camp to be a sought-after opportunity by students, and it shows. I bask in the fluorescent glow another moment before turning to the pile of gasping, red-faced teens plastered to the clean floor. Someone named James was in here this morning, pushing one of those floor scrubbers up and down, getting the perfect shine and clean lines. Him realizing the nice girl with curly hair that brought him a cup of coffee would be the reason he has to mop twice today is questionable.
