Page 7

“Not true.”

Huh. I figured that was a guarantee. But I guess not, so I go with the next most likely scenario. “Your coach saw the fight, true or not true?”

He sighs. “Not true.”

I bite my bottom lip, studying his pout. “Your coach…found out about the fight, true or not true?”

“True.” Eyebrows pulled together, he meets my gaze. “Turner’s mom saw it and complained to the coach about my behavior.”

“That sucks.” I pat his hand on the seat between us. “Did Coach bench you?”

“No,” he grumbles. “He said Turner will be playing center until the end of the month.”

My stomach sinks. Oh. This is bad. No wonder he looks so down.

“I’m really sorry,” I tell him quietly. “Could your dad talk to your coach and smooth things over?”

“Uh, no. I’d have a better chance of convincing my mom than my dad.” He plasters a serious expression on his face and mimics his dad’s voice the best he can. “Michael, you need to learn to face consequences. Don’t expect me to get you out of trouble when you do something reckless.”

Mom snorts, and we turn to look at her.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, peering at us in the rearview mirror. “You sound so much like your dad when you do that.”

The tips of Michael’s ears turn red; a sheepish smile blooms on his face. “Thanks. Um, can you please not mention this to him? Or Mom?”

My mom nods. “I won’t say anything, but you need to tell your parents about what happened at practice. Your side of the story.” She stops at a red light and glances at him over her shoulder. “Cade’s mom has already texted yours.”

“Crap,” we say in unison.

Mom snickers, though she quickly schools her expression. “While I get it, let’s keep that four-letter word out of our mouths, okay?”

My heart sinks. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Yeah, sorry, Aunt Bella.”

Smiling, she focuses on the road again.

Michael turns away from me and rests his head against the headrest. “He got my position, and now my parents are gonna lecture me. Great.”

“What really happened?” I whisper, leaning closer.

“Turner tripped Ash when Coach stepped away to take a call. He also made dumb jokes all the way through practice, trying to get to us. I tried to ignore him, but after he messed with Ash, I flipped.”

Warmth spreads across my skin, and the floaty feeling in my stomach returns. He’s hotheaded, but it’s usually in situations where it’s understandable, like when he’s standing up for someone. He never loses his temper just because.

“I think if you explain it to your parents, they’ll understand.” I reach over again and take his hand. “It’s not fair, but I’m sure when you play center again, you’ll show your coach and the whole team you’re a thousand times better than Turner.”

He threads his fingers through mine, a slow smile blooming on his lips. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” I give his hand a light squeeze.

“You’re the best.”

My heart flutters again. “Thank you.”

With his head still leaning on the headrest, he fixes his focus on me. “How was your practice?”

“It was good.” A smile splits my face without my permission. “I managed a really great toe loop. Elena was happy with it.”