Broken Beautiful Hearts(30)

“Why did you come to Black Water?” Owen asks. “I’m guessing it wasn’t for the social scene.”

I tap on my brace. “I tore my PCL, the ligament that runs behind my knee. My doctor said I’ll need a lot of physical therapy to get my knee back in shape, and I only have four months to do it.”

“What happens in four months?”

“I’m a soccer player. I need to get back on the field in March, when the season starts.”

“What if you need more time to recover?” It sounds like he actually cares about the answer.

“If I work hard enough, it will heal by then.” I hope.

Losing my spot at UNC isn’t an option. I practiced soccer drills with Dad every day after school and on weekends—and it paid off. I’m not letting Reed destroy my dreams.

“Don’t they have physical therapists where you’re from?” he asks.

“In Washington, DC? Sure.”

“You left Washington, DC, to come here? Why?” Owen is smart and nosy. Not the best combination when I’m trying to keep certain parts of my life private. But he does have an amazing smile.

“Why not?” I counter.

“How about because Washington, DC, is a major city with museums and concerts and the subway, and Black Water is … Black Water.”

“In DC, we call it the Metro, not the subway.”

He smiles at me again. “In Black Water we don’t call it anything, because we don’t have one.”

“That’s the point. There are no distractions here.”

“How did you hurt your knee?”

I didn’t.

“I fell down a flight of stairs.” It’s the truth, but for some reason leaving out the details makes me feel like I’m trapped in a room that’s too small and could get smaller any minute. “I’m a klutz when I’m not on the soccer field.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” Owen looks me in the eye and says it, like he really means it.

“It could be worse.” But with my scholarship hanging in the balance, it doesn’t feel that way.

“It still sucks.”

Why am I letting Owen ask me so many questions? I’ve known him for fifteen minutes. The incident with Reed taught me how easy it is to misjudge someone. I thought he was the kind of athlete who would never resort to doping and cheating.

I’ve always relied on my gut instincts about people—the little voice in the back of my head. But I don’t trust it anymore.

Owen cocks his head to the side and grins. “So do you still want to know if I have a girlfriend?”

Heat crawls up the back of my neck. “I never asked you that.”

“When I got off the phone, you asked if I was fighting with my girlfriend.”

“I was making conversation, not fishing.” Okay, I sort of was. “I’m not hunting for a boyfriend if that’s what you think.”

“Your cousins made that pretty clear.”

I’m going to strangle those two. “What did they say?” So I know how much salt to dump in their breakfast tomorrow.

Owen leans back against the bales. “I saw them coming out of the locker room after the game and I mentioned that we met, and they said you don’t date.”

The Twins are dead.

They made it sound like I’m joining a convent after graduation. The heat spreads from my neck to my cheeks. I should ditch Owen and go back to the party before this conversation gets more embarrassing.

But I want to stay.

The last three weeks have been full of lies and accusations, surgery and doctors’ appointments, threats and depressing calls from an ex who won’t stop calling me and a best friend who never wants to speak to me again. My conversation with Owen makes me feel normal. It’s one of the few I’ve had in weeks that didn’t revolve around my injury or Reed.

I want it to last a little longer.

I also don’t want Owen thinking I’m convent-bound. “For the record, I do date. I’m just not interested in dating right now. There’s a difference.”

Owen holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m just telling you what I heard. Is that the reason you’re back here instead of hanging out at the party?”

“No. I’m just antisocial.”

His eyes flicker to my mouth. “I don’t believe that.”

I pull my hair back in a ponytail and secure it with the elastic around my wrist. Anything to keep from making eye contact with him. “You don’t even know me.”

Owen leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. His arm grazes mine and he looks over at me. “Not yet.”

“Peyton? Where are you?” one of the Twins shouts.

Owen hops off the bale. “Sounds like your cousins are looking for you.”

A hulking figure rounds the corner. I’m not sure if it’s Christian or Cameron until I see his green T-shirt.

Christian storms in our direction. When he sees Owen, he does a double take. “Owen? I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just stopped by to get Tucker,” Owen says. “Some idiot freshman talked him into coming to the party. Garrett went after Tucker at the game so I just wanted to make sure nothing happened. I sent him home with his friend.”