Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“I did, but I wasn’t nearly as good as Nash.”
“Did you play any sports, James?” she asks me next. “Oh, never mind. You probably couldn’t because of Mom.”
A weight of sadness drapes over me, and I figure it probably does over Sadie too. I welcome the touch when Colton reaches over and squeezes my thigh in support, but then worry that Sadie might see and discreetly try to brush it away. I glance at Colton, hoping we make eye contact so I can try and apologize that way, but Colton doesn’t look at me.
“No, I couldn’t. But what’s important is that we get to do things we want now—Nash with basketball, you with your art, and me with swimming. I wanted to be on the swim team when I was younger, and Colton has helped get me back into it.” It’s one of the things I still do weekly for myself that Sir is a stickler about.
“That’s so cool,” Sadie says. “I don’t know how to swim.”
“Well, I’ll have to teach you,” I tell her. “Do you like it?” I ask Colton.
“Sure. Swimming is fun. I’ll race you,” he teases.
“I would win,” I counter. I have no idea if I could, but I’m pretty confident in my swimming abilities.
“Ooh! I can judge!” Sadie says from the back.
“Deal,” I agree.
“But no cheating for your brother.” Colton smiles back at her, the action making my heart go a little too fast. Everything about him makes me feel that way.
We continue chatting and joking around as we drive to the school. It does its job in making me forget to be nervous, but when we arrive, I can’t deny the swoosh of nerves that rushes through me, then settles in a constant ache.
Colton isn’t my student anymore. We’re allowed to be friends.
I remind myself of that as we park and make our way into the gym. I’ve worked so hard to become who I am, to gain the respect of my colleagues, to be tenured by forty. I’ve always lived in fear of messing it all up, of losing everything I’ve fought for, and now that feeling has intensified.
The team is warming up. Nash shoots, the ball going in smoothly, hitting nothing but the bottom of the net, just before he looks up and sees us. The huge smile that pulls at his mouth hits me straight in the chest. He looks…happy and proud. Maybe even surprised. Did he really not believe we would come? It’s not as if he’s ever had people show up for him in his life before, but I damn sure will always show up for him from now on. I don’t want him to ever doubt that I’ll always be there for him.
Colton too. Even if we break up, Colton would be there for him.
The three of us wave at him, but Nash schools his features and gives us an up-nod.
We find a seat in the bleachers, about halfway up, sitting behind our team’s bench. Sadie is between Colton and me, her little leg bouncing, showing just how nervous she is for Nash. “He’s lucky he has you as a sister,” I tell her. Their bond really is beautiful.
“He’s the best. He always protected me and took care of me, even if he got hurt in the process.”
My chest tightens, wondering how he might have gotten hurt, hating myself for not being there, but then Sadie scoots closer, like even if I wasn’t there for her before, she knows I’m there for her now.
I put my arm around her. “And now we all have each other, and if there’s ever anything you want to talk about, I’m always here. If you don’t want to talk to me, I’ll find a therapist for you. Whatever you need, okay?”
“I know,” she says, and they’re the best two words she could say to me. They mean she trusts me, and that’s worth everything. “Tasha says I can talk to her too.”
“I think she would be a great person for you to talk to.” I glance up and see Colton watching us. He winks, then turns back to the court, watching Nash.
The game starts a few minutes later. I’ve never in my life cared about basketball until today, and suddenly it’s the best game ever invented. I can’t stop myself from shooting to my feet every time Nash touches the ball, jumping and cheering each time he makes a shot or does something good on defense. My heart races the whole game, and I forget to be nervous about anyone seeing Colton and me together because nothing else matters other than Nash and his game.
I watch as he steals the ball from another player, then dribbles his way up the court. They get back on defense, but that doesn’t stop Nash. He doesn’t slow down, taking it all the way to the basket, shooting a layup, one of the other players swiping at his arm. Nash falls to the floor, the ball teetering on the rim, before it falls in.