“Do you know anything about her?”
“I know she shouldn’t be a counselor. She’s barely older than us. Just graduated college. Went to high school at Twisted Pine.”
A guy yells something in the background.
“Shut the hell up!” Trystan says to him. “I’m on the phone.”
“I’ll let you go. We’re almost there.”
“Why are you going so early?”
“We’re having dinner first at that taco place in the green shack.”
“Yeah, right.”
“No, really. We’re going to the taco place.”
“What the fuck? Did you drug my dad?”
I look over at Brock. “He thinks I drugged you.”
“Put him on speaker.”
“Your dad wants to talk to you,” I say to Trystan.
“No! Don’t—”
“You’re on speaker,” I tell him.
Trystan sighs. “What do you want, Dad?”
“I need to know where to sit. I haven’t been to one of these games since they built the new stadium.”
“Just sit in the parent section.”
“With Rumor? Shouldn’t she be with the other students?”
“Not after what she did.” He chuckles. “Nobody’s gonna want to be seen with her. Will Kristen be there tonight?”
“She’s home healing from her wounds.” I roll my eyes. “She thinks she might need surgery.”
“She was barely bleeding.”
“I think it’s just an excuse to get a nose job. She’s going to her mom’s plastic surgeon tomorrow.”
“If she’s not gonna be there, you can probably sit wherever you want, although people still may not want to be seen with you if they think it’ll get back to Kristen.”
“I think that’s a little extreme,” Brock says.
“Believe me, it’s not,” Trystan says. “People are fucking scared of her because of her dad. And then my cousin goes and punches her in the face.” He laughs.
“She deserved it,” I say, smiling, because Trystan finally called me his cousin. He keeps denying that I am, refusing to even call me that.
“What time will you be at the game?” Brock asks.
“I don’t know. Probably around six thirty. Why areyougoing? Why didn’t you drive to LA?”
“I want to see Braden play.”
