Chapter 7

Tyler

Once again, my mouth had moved faster than my brain. Because somehow I couldn’t resist not saying something about Sydney Walker.

“I guess the outfit was thirsty after all.”

Really, Tyler? Really?

I’d beaten myself up after I realized the words had rolled off my tongue.

In my defense, Brooklyn had started it. She’d planted the idea in my head, and somehow I grabbed it, cooked up something, and spilled it out without rethinking.

I guess some part of me had expected something else. Because, I mean, if Sydney Walker was bold enough to walk into a crowd dressed like the most stunning piece of art I’d ever seen, she would have taken my joke.

But it’d been the other way round.

Her cheeks had turned beet red. And not the way it did when I bumped into her.

She hugged herself like she was trying to disappear, her chest rising too fast, her back hitting the door.

And before I could completely register that I’d screwed up again, she ran.

The laughter didn’t stop even after she left. Partly because a quarter of the crowd was already half drunk.

But the next moment a loud crash came from the living room, and all their attention shifted to Micheal who’d fallen off a glass table.

And me? I didn’t take my eyes off the door even as I settled back into my seat, half hoping Sydney would walk back into the room and pretend she didn’t care.

Like the look in her eyes as she stared at me wasn’t entirely hatred.

But no matter how many times I sipped my drink whenever the door opened, Sydney Walker never came back.

“Dean! Dean! Dean!”

“Man, coach is so going to kill Dean tomorrow.” Aaron laughed, sliding into the chair beside me.

I dragged my attention to the small crowd forming around Dean as he chugged half a gallon of beer.

I forced a scoff. “You talk like you’re new. Coach will never know. Dude masks his scent like a cheating werewolf.”

Aaron barked a laugh and finished his drink.

“Yeah!!! That’s how you do it, you bastards! That's how you fucking do it!!” Dean roared after the last drop of beer rolled down his throat, beating his chest.

“It’s a great party after all.” Aaron said. “Micheal outdid himself this time.”

“Yeah, sort of.” I sipped my drink.

“And Brooklyn’s sister?” Aaron grinned. “That was epic.”

I forced a chuckle. “Yeah. She’s easy.”

The words tasted worse than the drink.

Aaron laughed even more.

“What about Micheal?” I asked quickly, stopping myself from replaying the look on Sydney’s face.

Aaron clicked his teeth. “He’s fine. Only sprained his shoulder. He’s up with Brooklyn in his room.”

Brooklyn.

I’ve never seen someone switch on her sister so quickly without remorse.

Honestly, Brooklyn had always been that girl. Perfect little life with everything she needed at her feet—including a spoiled ass boyfriend.

But seeing how excited she was when Sydney arrived, I never expected the switch.

At least not so soon.

*****

“I really think her outfit was too much.”

“I mean, tell me about it. I can’t believe she actually showed up like that.”

The ball slipped out of my hands for the third time. It hit the ground with a loud thud and rolled past my foot.

“Sinclair!” Coach barked.

“I got it,” I muttered, jogging after it even though I clearly didn’t.

Practice was loud the next day, as it seemed everyone still felt hyped about the party last night.

Sneakers squeaked across the court, the guys called plays, and the sharp bounce of basketballs echoed off the walls.

But none of it stuck. Because my mind wasn’t on the court. It was across the gym.

Brooklyn and her cheer squad were on the sidelines, supposed to be practicing their own routine. Instead, they were in a circle, their pom-poms lying around their feet.

They were giggling, forgetting to gossip in low tones.

I wasn’t even trying to listen. But somehow, I wanted to know what they thought of the party and my snarky comment.

I saw Sydney at the cafeteria about an hour ago. She was sitting at a table hunched over some fruit thingy, and as she looked up, our eyes met.

That familiar flush had appeared on her cheek.

And even as she looked away, it took Micheal’s nudge on my ribs to turn away before I did something I was probably going to regret later.

“God, did you see her face when the wine came down?”

“And then she ran out like she was in some movie.”

“Maybe she thought Tyler would chase after her.”

They laughed harder.

My jaw tightened.

I missed a pass coming straight at me, and the ball smacked against my chest and dropped.

“Come on, man!” Micheal yelled, despite trying to play with his hurting shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?”

Brooklyn finally turned away from watching Micheal to the girls.

Their smiles shifted.

“Brook,” Tracy called. “Did you know your sister was going to show up looking like some…Velma?”

I could hear the restraint in Brooklyn’s voice as she flipped her ponytail. “No. Maeve dressed her up.”

Tracy scoffed. “You mean Maeve…what’s her last name again?”

Racist bitch.

“Maeve, tiny eyes.”

More laughter.

“Sinclair!” Coach’s whistle shrieked through the gym. “You asleep?”

I forced myself to dribble, to drive—shoot.

The ball hit the rim. It clanged off.

I missed.

“Again!” Coach barked.

I went from the top, tried harder. But the ball bounced off the backboard and nearly missed the net.

“Maybe she thought she could get noticed.” Someone’s voice reached my ears again.

Heat crawled up my neck.

The ball slipped from my grip again. And coach blew the whistle longer this time.

“Enough!” his voice echoed.

The gym went silent.

He walked towards me slowly, his sharp eyes watching me closely, arms folded. “You’re sloppy, Tyler. Did you drink at the party?”

My brows flew up instantly, my eyes flickering to the guys wondering which one of them had flapped their gums. But they also seemed surprised coach knew.

“No,” I said evenly.

“You’re distracted then. You missed three shots you could have made in your sleep.”

Even the cheer squad stood watching at this point.

“I’m sorry.”

Then the bell rang.

Coach exhaled, shaking his head. “Pack it up, we’re done for today. If this is the energy my captain is bringing, then there’s no point.”

The guys groaned as coach turned towards the exit. “We have something to discuss after school, Sinclair.”

I didn’t even stop to listen to what the girls had to say next. But as I walked towards the exit, my jaw tight, my eyes met Brooklyn’s.

And for a second, I thought she’d walk up to me and confront me about the party, or maybe figure out what her sister was doing to my mind.

Instead, she just stared at me like I was holding something that belonged to her.

Dean caught up beside me as I pushed towards the locker room.

“Yo, Tyler. Sounds like you’re in big trouble.” He laughed. “Did you hook up last night?”

“Fuck off, Dean.” I said, trying to play it cool.

He snorted and walked towards his own locker, tugging off his jersey. “God, we’ve got chemistry next. Kill me.”

Every subject was Dean’s worst subject. But as he walked off to the showers, my hand paused on my jersey.

Because chemistry was where Sydney was.