Heartache and Hope (Heartache Duet #1)(53)

“Connor?”

I look up to see Principal Brown and a man I’ve never met before standing over me. I get to my feet. “Yes, sir?”

Brown smiles, waving a hand to the man next to him. “This is Tony Parsons. From Duke. He wanted a word with you.”

My pulse picks up pace, as if I’m on the court again, overtime, two points down and I’m at the three-point line, ball in my hand. “It’s good to meet you, sir,” I say, shaking his hand.

“Likewise,” he responds. “That’s quite a shiner you’ve got there.”

“Yeah, it’s…”

“It’s one of the hazards of basketball, right, son?” Brown says.

I nod, grateful for his response.

Parsons continues, “Well, Connor, have you ever thought about playing for Duke?”

“Only when I’m breathing.”

He smiles, then opens his mouth, but I interrupt, my finger up between us. “Sorry, just one second.”

I look up at the stands, at one of the only people left—my dad. His eyes are wide, clear. “Dad!” I wave him over and watch as he makes his way toward us. Then I turn back to the scout. “This is my dad,” I tell him. “I uh…” I give him the truth that, lately, I’d been too stubborn to realize. “I just like to have him around.”





“It’s not like I’m going to get my hopes up or anything,” I say into the phone, pacing my room, the adrenaline inside me still pulsing.

“You should totally get your hopes up,” Ava encourages. “I mean, it’s Duke.”

“Yeah, but do you know how many scouts they have looking for high school ballers? I’m, like, one in hundreds these scouts would be talking to.”

“Connor,” she laughs out. “You’re looking at it wrong. You’re one in only hundreds that they’re talking to. That’s a big deal no matter how much you try to downplay it.”

I hold the phone to my ear, and pick up a ball, then spin it on the tip of my finger. “I guess.”

“I’m proud of you,” she says, and I can hear the genuine honesty in her voice.

I drop the ball to the floor and sit on the edge of the bed. “It wouldn’t have happened without you.”

“Well, technically, if you think about it…” she trails off.

“How did you get us back in, anyway?”

“I told you.”

“Ava…”

She giggles into the phone, causing my chest to ache in longing. I wish she were here. In my bed. So I could see her. So I could run my hands through her curls and kiss her and hold her and maybe fool around a little. “I just wrote him a heartfelt letter about what had been going on and how you and Rhys were my saviors, and that you didn’t deserve to be punished for it. Vincit qui se vincit.”

“What does that mean? The last part?”

“It’s the school motto. It means He conquers who conquers himself.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well,” she says, mocking. “How the hell is Brown supposed to let you conquer the world if you’re on the sidelines for being chivalrous?”

“I can’t believe you managed to work that in there.”

“Your girl can be quite convincing, Connor.”

I smile into the phone, let the silence fill the space between us.

“I wish I were there,” she says quietly, reading my mind.

“I know. Me too.”

Dad knocks on my door, enters.

I lower the phone to my lap.

“I’m heading off,” he says, smiling. “You did real good tonight, Connor. I’m proud of you. You’re one step closer.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I reply, genuine. “And thanks for being there. I would’ve been a nervous wreck if you weren’t.”

His smile widens. “Anytime, son. We’ll call Ross tomorrow and fill him in on what happened.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t stay up too late, all right? You’ve had a long day.”

“Yes, sir.”

I wait until he’s out of my room and out of the house before lifting the phone to my ear again. “Hey, sorry.”

“You and your dad are talking again?” Ava asks.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“That’s good,” she says, but I can hear the uncertainty in her voice.

“Look, about what my dad said about you…” I sigh. “It’s not as if he has something personal against you. It’s just, he’s being protective, you know? And it’s not like he knows you, because if he did…” I trail off, not knowing what to say.

“You don’t need to explain,” she assures. “It’s okay. I know what we are—my family—and I know how it seems from the outside looking in. But just... if it ever gets too much for you—being with me—just say so.”

“Ava, stop.” I flop down on the bed, cover my eyes with my forearm. “We don’t need to be having this conversation.”

She’s silent a beat too long.

“Ava?” I sit up.

“Sorry,” she says. “Someone’s just uploaded the game, and I’m trying to download it as fast as I can. Oh, my God, I’m so giddy. Hurry up!”