All Chapters of HOW TO MAKE HER FALL? STEP NUMBER ONE, LIE: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

CARTERIt would seem I was in a chirpy mood, considering I was behind the kitchen counter trying to whip up salmon scrambled eggs and bacon. The only thing I literally knew how to make by the way— a fact I hadn’t been ashamed of until recently. Grayson was practically our in-house chef, so why the fuck would I bother learning? But during dinner, Ally had mentioned offhandedly that she couldn’t boil water to save her life, so I figured I should man up and learn a few culinary tricks—if it didn’t require me burning the damn house down. “Yo, what the fuck man?” Hudson poked his head into the kitchen, Grayson right beside him wearing a grim face. Hell was going to break loose today. I flipped the gas off, dropped the smoking pan into the sink and blasted it with tap water. A cloud of steam rose over the burnt protein yuck. Yup, I’d screwed it up. Big time. “Sorry. I was trying my hands at breakfast.” I said, tossing the spatula into the sink

CARTERMy eyes were glued to Ally’s purple study guides filled with insane calculus problems, and I felt numb. Downcast, dejected, depressed—use whatever word you want, I knew they meant the same things. But the reality was I felt like shit. The kind that leaves you questioning every choice you’ve ever made. Was this how folks felt when they got dumped? This was the exact reason I never had time for girlfriends. Emotional investment just got you wrecked, and the speech I’d given the guys earlier? Yeah, that one, it didn’t even come close to what I was actually feeling. All I could think about was Allison and how thoroughly I’d messed up everything. The original plan was supposed to be simple, you know: get her to fall, sleep with her, invent some excuse to pull away, and leave. But how could I? The fucking phase left me craving more of her—even now, as I was flipping aimlessly through pages of her sheets. Oh, shit.In that crushing moment I g

SIENNA I was still at a loss as to why I’d agreed to do this, but after seeing Asher step up to psycho Rhett, I couldn’t bring myself to turn him down. I was going to help him. Besides Ally was a total mess too, but not in the grandiose hackneyed scheme of things. She’d barely spoken three words to me two days ago, and yesterday, zilch. She was more focused on her books than ever and had grown more distant. Rather than looking miserable or crying into a pillow, she was channelling every ounce of her heartbreak into studying. It was impressive, really, I wished I could do that. The opposite was true for me, my own grades usually cratered after a breakup. Right now, she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by three massive textbooks. Seriously, just looking at her was giving me a headache. What happened to wearing oversized sweat pants and eating a depressing amount of Cheetos? Or whatever cliche God-forsaken shit people did in movies?

CARTER“Look who finally decided to join us,” Coach Anthony huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your father being the founder of this school doesn’t give you any special privileges, Carter. Practice is five times a week, you’re no exception.”“Co-founder.” I mumbled, crossing my hands behind my back. “Excuse me?”“He’s just the co-founder, Coach. He’s in it with Asher’s dad.” I said, barely suppressing a faint smirk after he responded with a string of colorful expletives before pulling me out of the locker room into the hallway.“Why’d you miss so many practices? Asher told me you were under the weather. You look fine to me.” I sighed softly. I was done with the lies. It was what had gotten me into this messy heap in the first place. “Asher was just covering for me, Coach. I wasn’t sick… well, unless you count lovesick.” I offered a weak smile, but his expression stayed stone-cold. He was in no mood for my shaggy-dog story. I knew I he

CARTER Coach Anthony called a timeout. The guys crowded around the bench while he barked instructions, tapping the strategy board with his dry-erase marker. He drew a few quick arrows across it— nothing fancy. I couldn’t hear everything from where I was seated, but I caught enough: stop forcing the middle, get pucks behind their defense, cycle, create space. Basic fucking hockey. And yet, we couldn’t seem to execute a single piece of it. I dragged a heavy hand down my face.This was getting ridiculous. The second period was turning into a total nightmare. When the timeout ended, and the players pushed back onto the ice, for a few minutes, Hawthorne actually looked aliveWe moved the puck faster, stopped trying to force everything through the high slot, dumped it deep and made Warroad work for every inch.Exactly what Coach had ordered.I leaned forward, elbows digging into my knees.“Come on,” I muttered under my breath, tapping my foot franti