Page 288 of Playing Dirty

---

“You texting her again?” he asked.

I didn’t even bother lying.

“Yeah.”

He stared at me for a second like he was trying to decide whether to be annoyed or impressed.

Then: “You realize you’re going to NYC in six weeks, right?”

“I know.”

“And you’re distracted.”

“I’m aware.”

Coach rubbed his face. “This isn’t high school anymore. You don’t get to half-show up.”

That landed heavier than it should’ve.

Because Iwashalf-showing up.

Not on purpose.

But still.

I nodded once. “I’ll fix it.”

Coach didn’t look convinced. “You better.”

He walked off.

I stood there for a second longer than necessary.

Then my phone buzzed again.

Rowan.

Rowan:

Okay, insulting version:

You’re probably just tired and overthinking everything like a dramatic athlete stereotype.

I stared at it.

Then laughed under my breath.

Yeah.

That sounded like her.

ROWAN

Serena was now fully invested in my emotional downfall.

She leaned over my shoulder again. “You’re smiling again.”

“I’m not.”

---