Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“A half dollar?” another rookie asks. “Who’d rip a dollar in half? That’s why I pay for everything on my phone.”
I sigh. “Fine—no bigger than a poker chip.”
“But why?” Calder asks.
“Because miniature food tastes better,” I snap. “I don’t make the rules. Calder? List off those ingredients. The rest of you are going to find them in this kitchen.”
Calder flops his hair out of his face. “On it, Cap.”
An hour later, we have three pans of miniature golden cookies. I arrange a couple dozen of the best specimens on a paper plate, leaving the rookies to finish polishing the kitchen to a high shine.
Then I go looking for Darcy. I know exactly which first-floor room belongs to her and Zoe, anyway. I’ve spent our entire time upstate noticing her, even when I’m supposed to be thinking about other things.
And even if I didn’t know, I could probably have figured it out by just pacing past her door. I mean—it’s possible that one of our players is a Taylor Swift fan. I wouldn’t judge. But as I knock, I hear “August” playing behind the door.
“Zoe?” she says, and I think I hear footsteps.
“Nope,” I say, hoping she’ll still open the door.
She does. But only a crack. I can only see one of her blue-green eyes, and it’s confused. “Hi. You need something?”
Yes. Yes, I do. “I brought you some cookies.”
The door widens slightly, and her glance falls to the plate in my hand. “Oh, wow. Those are so cute. Did Marnie make them?”
I sigh. “Not quite. I made them myself, but the rookies had to help. I’m not competent at, like, literally everything like you are.”
She blinks. “Can I eat one?”
I push the plate at her. “These are all for you. Can I come in?”
“Well…” She gives me a wary look. “That’s not a great idea.”
“Then come for a walk with me.” My heart is suddenly beating out of my chest. “I just want to talk.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”
The look she gives me says that it is hard to believe. So that’s something to work on, I guess. “Come on.” I hold out a hand.
“Let me get my shoes,” she says quietly.
I wait in the doorway, because I know she doesn’t want people to get the wrong idea about us. I’ve never been anyone’s dirty secret before.
And I really can’t recommend it.
Chapter 40
The Only Thing on the List
Darcy
My exams are in two days, and I really should be studying.
Instead, I’m lacing up my sneakers and taking a surreptitious glance in the mirror to make sure my makeup isn’t smudged.
The song ends, and another heartbreaker comes on, and I’m not even paying attention. But then I catch Eric listening to it with a thoughtful frown, and I realize that playing “Cruel Summer” right after “August” is giving him a look into my soul that was never intended. So I snatch my phone up and pause the music.
“New playlist?” he asks.
“Background noise,” I insist. “I’ve been studying. So let’s make this quick.”
“I’ll settle for as much of your time as you can spare,” he says quietly. “Come on. It’s a nice night.”
He’s not wrong. There’s a sliver of a moon as I step outside of the room I chose for myself and Zoe. It’s on the end, away from the chaos, and the doors on this level open to the outside, like a roadside motel.
The camp where we stay for training camp is a few miles outside of the town of Lake Placid. It’s a beautiful lakeside retreat, with a swimming dock and a fire pit that’s very popular with the players after hours.
Eric turns in the other direction, though, toward the lake, where it should be quieter. There’s just enough moonlight to see the path. And when we reach a branch lying across it, Eric takes my hand and helps me over it. Then he somehow forgets to let go, and I somehow forget to call him out on it.
It’s wonderfully quiet here, but I feel a lot of tension in the silence between us, and I don’t know what to do about it. “Why did you bring me cookies, Eric?”
“Because I miss you,” he says immediately. “Do you miss me even a little?”
Oh boy. “I’m gonna have to plead the Fifth.”
“I think you do,” he says easily. “You even made yourself a heartbreak playlist.”
Busted. Not that I’ll concede the point. “It’s a Taylor Swift playlist!”
“Same thing.” He suddenly swings an arm out in front of me, deftly catching a branch I’d been about to walk right into.
“Thanks,” I murmur, ducking underneath. “Let’s just say that you were right, and I do miss you. It doesn’t matter, though. Because none of our issues are solved.”
“No, they’re not,” he admits. “But now I have some brand-new problems, like what I’m doing with my life.”