He hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know, Quinn. Your dad was pretty clear I couldn’t see you.”
“He won’t know.” I was practically begging. I couldn’t let Maiken leave without explaining why I’d been drinking, or hit Sloane, or made a mess of my summer.
“I better not. I just stopped by to check on Celia. I have to go. My mom is waiting. I have a few last-minute things to get before I head out in the morning.”
I shoved down the tears. “Wait. You’re only here to see Celia? You mean you weren’t going to tell me you were leaving tomorrow?” One tear slipped out, then another as my stomach churned.
He glanced around, his blue eyes filling with frustration. “Quinn, I was going to call you.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I don’t know. But if you didn’t get drunk, I would’ve told you about camp.”
“So now it’s my fault?” I asked in a harsh tone even though I was ready to beg him to stay.
He gave me a sad, or maybe pitying, grin. “We’ll talk soon. Give my best to Celia.” He spun on his heel.
I rushed up and latched on to his arm. “Wait.”
He narrowed his big blue eyes. “I have to go, Quinn.” There was no emotion in his tone at all.
My heart disintegrated. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“I’m going to basketball camp, nothing more. But I don’t like you drinking. It’s not something I’m going to deal with.” Then he strutted out.
I was left with a crushed soul and a bleeding heart. I wasn’t sure our relationship would ever be the same.
Iwiped the sweat from my brow with my jersey. Between running suicides and the summer sun beating down on the outdoor court, all twelve of us were dying. The last two weeks had been brutal on my body and on my mind. I couldn’t shake the thought that Quinn and I had had our first fight.
I was mad at her for getting drunk. I was mad at myself for walking away. I should’ve stayed and told her about camp, but the way she’d acted had given me the impression that no matter what I said, she would only see that I was leaving her. She knew how important basketball was to me.
“Take a break and hydrate,” Coach Green yelled. “Maxwell, can I see you for a minute?” He waved his fat hand at me.
Noah, my roomie at camp, and a hell of a shooting guard, widened his gray eyes as though he knew something I didn’t.
I couldn’t imagine that I was in trouble. I’d followed the rules and busted my butt in workouts, training, and mock games. I even obeyed curfew when Noah didn’t. He’d tried to get me to sneak out with him, but I wasn’t about to mess up my training.
I jogged up to Coach.
He patted the spot on the bench next to him. “Sit.”
I’d learned my first week at camp that Coach Green was the sports director at Greenridge Academy, the same school Mom was looking into for Jasper and Marcus, the same school she was trying to convince me to consider.
At first, I’d thought Mom and Coach Dean were in cahoots when it came to picking this camp, which was only a town over from Greenridge Academy. As it turned out, though, Coach Dean was the one who’d recommended the camp.
“If you want to get back into fighting form, then spend a month at basketball camp,” Coach Dean had said. “I know Coach Green well, and he will whip you into shape.”
Coach Dean hadn’t lied either. Coach Green was like a military commander. We were up at dawn, running and working out before we had breakfast. Then we had two hours of classes on the game of basketball and plays. After that, it was off to practice on the court.
I eased down on the wood bench as I watched the guys fan out to the coolers.
Coach chugged from a water bottle then set it down. “I want to discuss something with you.” He sounded like he was about to break bad news to me.
My pulse ticked up a notch. Maybe I was a terrible ball player. Maybe I didn’t stand a chance of playing for a Division I school.
I started moving my foot, causing my knee to bounce up and down. “Just give it to me straight.” I didn’t like when anyone beat around the bush.
“I would like for you to consider attending Greenridge Academy for your senior year as starting shooting guard. I’ve talked to Coach Dean about this.”
