Page 53 of Breakaway Hearts

“It is pretty amazing,” Haylie agrees, before she gives me a weird look.

“I should check in with my roommate anyway,” Madison assures Megan. “Take your time and I’ll be here when you’re ready.” She gets out of the bean bag chair with far more grace than I’ve ever managed.

“Did you say Madison?” Haylie stops her from retreating while I try to figure out who I’ve told what to. “I’m Haylie, it’s lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Madison assures her. Then she looks to me. “You’re his cousin-person.”

“Guilty as charged,” Haylie looks like she can’t decide if she’s impressed I mention her so often, or if whoever told her about Madison downplayed things. “I didn’t know you came here.”

“It’s new.”

“It’s her first time, but she loves it,” Megan says quickly. “And can’t wait to come back and help me with history. And teach me psychology, so I can mastermind people into doing what I want.”

“History and psychology?”

I love Haylie, but subtlety is not one of her skills.

The smell of pizza from the boxes I’m carrying draws a crowd, so Haylie ushers Megan to one of the rooms, leaving Madison and I alone together.

“You came,” I point out.

“It’s a worthy cause. And the people are cool.”

“They are,” I agree, giving what she probably sees as a cocky grin, but it makes me happy that she likes my people.

“Are you teaching a class?”

“Would it be wrong if I just came to see how you were doing?”

“To check up on me?” I think she’s pretending to be offended, but she might not be.

“To make sure they’re treating you well,” I correct, which either sounds like I don’t trust them, or that I think she’s difficult.

“How long have you been volunteering here?”

“A couple of years,” I admit. I know she’s asked about me, because she knew to call me Brooks, but it doesn’t seem like she dug in, or she has yet to make the Glass connection. Which now feels wrong, because the shelter is the only thing giving me brownie points, and I’m about to lose them. “Started freshman year.”

“Right.” She nods, and I think she might be disappointed. “Jay mentioned.”

“The team is big on community service and outreach.” It’s true, we all have to do a minimum of something stupid like five hours of volunteer work, and whatever the team commits to, but Coach has never enforced it, or asked for proof. Not because he doesn’t care, but the rookies usually scrounge for placements at the beginning of the year, then Coach asks us to cool it come spring, when we’re trying to pass our exams, win the Frozen Four, and get in our face time.

“I’m sure.”

The way she says it rubs me the wrong way. Like she thinks we’re doing it for show while secretly committing murder on the weekends.

“You really don’t like athletes,” I call her on it.

“He finally catches on.”

“You’re not the first to call me slow.”

“That wasn’t—” She looks horrified.

“Don’t go all soft on me now,” I warn. “I’ll just have to take your advice.”

“Not that all my advice isn’t excellent, but…”

“We convinced Hargraves, didn’t we?”