Page 178 of Ruthless Court

I finish high off the glass.

Noah catches the ball as it falls.

“Whatever she told you, keep doing it.”

I stop.

“Who?”

His mouth curves.

“Exactly.”

After early shooting, I return to the locker room.

The rest of the team filters in. Music starts. Tape tears. Shoes squeak against the rubber floor. Someone insists his shooting slump is caused by the new detergent shrinking his socks.

I sit at my locker and retie my shoes.

Eli drops into the chair beside mine.

“You look tense.”

“I’m fine.”

“That was convincing.”

“Worry about your own game.”

“My game is beautiful.”

“Your assist-to-turnover ratio disagrees.”

He glances toward the pocket holding my phone.

“She coming?”

I keep my attention on the laces.

“Who?”

“Your grandmother.”

I look at him.

“The one with the huge glasses who threatened to stab you over candy.”

“She has a name.”

“Librarian?”

“Hannah.”

His grin grows.

“You said that fast.”

Coach enters before he can keep going.