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That’s the thing I hated most about Gatlin. The way everyone had something to say about everything you said or did or, in this case, wore. I just stared at the noodles on my tray, swimming in runny orange liquid that didn’t look much like cheese.
The bad omen wasn’t just a hearse. It was a girl.
For a few minutes, I had let myself hope. That maybe this year wouldn’t be just like every other year, that something would change. That I would have someone to talk to, someone who really got me.
But all I had was a good day on the court, and that had never been enough.
For a few minutes, I had let myself hope. That maybe this year wouldn’t be just like every other year, that something would change. That I would have someone to talk to, someone who really got me.
But all I had was a good day on the court, and that had never been enough.
I had just wanted to know. That had always been my problem. Even now.
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