The Art of Falling for You (Falling #1) by Maya Hughes

Author:Maya Hughes [Hughes, Maya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781950117116
Google: MpA9zgEACAAJ
Amazon: B08Y72R733
Goodreads: 49692701
Publisher: #PrB.rating#4.04
Published: 2021-03-11T00:00:00+00:00

18

Dare

“Where the fuck are you going?” Knox barreled out of the bus along with everyone else, coated in dried sweat and grime, but grinning from ear to ear.

My grin had nothing to do with the Titan Combine, though. I’d never sprinted faster, tackled harder or had stickier hands than I’d had in Chicago. But I had one singular thought: getting back here to get Bay.

Donuts had never been sweeter than off her lips. We might have steamed up the windows in the parking lot when I dropped her off. Sure, she’d run in with the bags instead of letting me help, but today’s performance coupled with seeing her again for the first time in thirty-six hours meant that no amount of dried stinging sweat all over my body mattered.

“Dare.” Coach Greer called after me.

I skidded to a stop after grabbing my bag and jogged back to him. The play would be over by now. Had she already left to go hang out with the other stage crew people? With that guy, Jon? “Coach.”

“You had a hell of a performance out there today.”

I shifted from foot to foot. “Yeah, I felt good.”

“And that run-in with the kid from Pennsylvania.”

My hands clenched around my duffle. The cloudy haze of the cheap shot almost dragged me back into the fog of rage. I closed my eyes.

“I didn’t hit him.”

“Only because someone got between you two.”

I gritted my teeth. “He could’ve broken my leg with the shit he pulled.”

Coach sighed, long and troubled.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

“We can talk about this later.” He shook his head. “Get a shower and get some sleep.”

I nodded and headed toward my car. The other guys were grabbing their bags. They were my soon-to-be former teammates, but now they were in my way to my goal.

If anyone thought my skills at making a path through opponents ended on the field they were dead wrong. Right now, these were opponents in the way of getting to my true celebration tonight.

I rushed home and back to school. Sweat poured down my back. Even showering and changing clothes hadn’t stopped the pounding in my chest or the sweat jumping from my pores like it was abandoning ship after an iceberg collision.

I sniffed my pits, hopped in my car and drove around to the auditorium doors on the other side of the school.

Knox: Overlook

Me: Not tonight

Knox: Where have you been going?

Me: None of your business

Knox: I tell you everything going on with me

Me: Against my will

Knox: You’re an asshole

Me: I know

There would be droves of people at the Overlook excited to stand on the empty quarry edge singing team fight songs, talking shit about the Bedlam Bowl, and drinking until midnight.

I parked a row back where there was only one other car parked. Nerves ping-ponged inside my chest. Winning a state championship had felt a lot less scary than standing out here.

Hers was the lone bike locked to the rack. I hadn’t missed her.

I leaned against my car with my hands shoved in my pockets, waiting.

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