Broken Beautiful Hearts(91)

What’s wrong with me? Is something inside me broken?

I’ve always relied on my instincts—on and off the field—and they’ve never led me astray. Until Reed.

Did he screw up more than just my knee?

And if he did, how do I fix it?

Suddenly, I’m panicked. I want somebody to tell me it’s not true. I almost call Lucia, but what would I say? I fell for another guy who was lying to me and I had no clue.

I can’t do it.

I curl up on the bed and listen to the voice mail from Dad that I saved on my phone. Hearing his voice makes me cry all over again, but it also reminds me that I’ll be okay.

After I listen to Dad’s message for the third time, I put my phone on the nightstand. Every few minutes it vibrates.

Owen alternates between calling and texting me. I let the calls go straight to voice mail and I don’t respond to his texts. But I still read them.

I screwed up. I’m sorry.

Please call me.

I want to explain.

I should’ve told you.

I’m an idiot. But I can’t lose you.

You mean so much to me.

I send Owen one text before I crawl under the covers and go to bed.

not enough for u to tell me the truth.

I hit send and turn off my phone.

*

At school the next day, I avoid Owen.

At the end of first period, I pretend to feel sick and I spend second period in the health room, which gets me out of English class. The Twins run interference, even though I’m barely speaking to them. After school, I skip PT.

Now I’m in my Tennessee bedroom, where I’ve been holed up for hours.

My cell phone rings, and I check the number before I answer. The list of people I’m not speaking to keeps growing.

It’s Grace.

“What’s up?”

“Promise you won’t hate me?” she asks. When a friend leads with that question, it’s never good.

“Why would I hate you?”

“Well…” She stalls. “I sort of told Owen that I’d give him a ride to the fight tonight. He cornered me after cheer practice and asked if you were okay. Then he hit me with all these questions: ‘Does Peyton hate me? Will she give me a chance to explain? Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?’ It was awful. I wanted to change the subject, so I asked if he was nervous about his big fight.”

The regional championship.

“Owen said he didn’t have a ride because his trainer was coming straight from UT. Maybe he’d take the bus or hitchhike. He looked so miserable. So I offered to give him a ride. He was going either way. I didn’t want him to go alone. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” But it’s not. If there’s something wrong with Owen’s heart, he probably shouldn’t be fighting at all.

“I have to pick up Owen and Tucker in thirty minutes. I just wanted to tell you before I left.”

“Come get me. I’m not letting you and Tucker go by yourselves. You’ve never been to an MMA fight.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re not even speaking to Owen.”

“And I’m not going to start now. Just pick me up.”

“Okay.” Grace hesitates. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

By the time I change and get downstairs, the Twins are already standing by the front door, wearing their letterman jackets.

“Are you two waiting for someone?” I ask.

“Grace is picking us all up,” Christian announces. “We’re coming, too.”

“What do you mean? How do you even know about this in the first place?”

“I know everything that happens with Grace,” Christian says.

Cam glares at him. “What he means is that Grace told me. I talked to her right after you did.”

“We’re not letting you two go to some wrestling match alone,” Christian says.

“It’s not a wrestling match. It’s an MMA championship fight.”

Christian waves me off. “Close enough.”

“What makes you think I want to be stuck in the car with you two?” I’m still hurt, and this is the most I’ve said to my cousins since they outed Owen.

“You probably don’t.” Christian keeps his eyes trained on the floor. “We’re just gonna have to keep telling you we’re sorry.”

“And we’ll try to find a way to make it up to you,” Cam adds.

“What if I still don’t want you to come?” I ask.

“We’re coming either way.” Christian’s mind is made up.

“Fine.” I sound like I’m in sixth grade again.

Grace honks, and the Twins follow me outside.

I pause by the front door when I realize Owen and Tucker are already in the car. Owen gets out and holds the passenger door open.

Christian heads straight for the front seat.

“Shotgun,” Cam says.

I catch up with them and settle the argument. “I’m sitting in the front.”

Christian and Cam pile into the back seat with Tucker, which doesn’t leave much room for Owen. But he squeezes back there, too. I feel him watching me, but I try to ignore it.

“Scoot over.” Cam elbows his brother.