“WHAT’S IT MEAN?” JALEN HELD on to the phone, reading the words again.
“Just what it says,” Cat replied. “He wants to talk when he gets back. He means talk about the terms of your deal.”
“He didn’t say that, though.”
Cat took her phone back from him and glanced at it before stuffing it into her jeans pocket. “He doesn’t have to. It’s self-explanatory. He realizes he’s not going to get that new contract extension the way he’s going.”
Jalen’s heart thumped inside his chest. “But maybe not. Maybe it’s something else.”
“Don’t be afraid of success.” Cat waved her hand to dismiss his doubts. “Or of me being right all the time.”
She huffed on her nails and polished them on her sweatshirt.
“Oh, brother,” Daniel said. “What a load of hot sauce.”
“Does the truth hurt so much?” she asked.
“If your head swells any more,” Daniel said, “you’ll turn into a hot-air balloon and float away.”
“When a guy’s right all the time,” Cat said, “he’s a genius, but when a girl’s right, she’s got a swollen head? Talk about hot sauce . . . .”
“I gotta go, guys.” Jalen turned and left them to their bickering. He marched downhill, feeling light on his feet. The game couldn’t have gone better for him, which meant worse for JY. He passed the Silver Liner parking lot, bursting with cars, and crunched down the gravel drive to his house.
• • •
The last day of school always had a partylike atmosphere. Teachers dropped their cloaks of seriousness, and the chatter in the classrooms and hallways felt like a sports bus after a big win. Even bitter enemies seemed to be under a flag of truce, but after sixth period Jalen was surprised when he turned to find Chris blocking his way in the hall.
“Hey.” Chris’s sling was gone, another good sign, but he wore a menacing frown.
“Hey,” Jalen said. “What’s up?”
“I thought we should talk.”
“Okay. Shoot.” Jalen tried to keep his voice from shaking.
“Pretty funny, those rabbit turds in my lunch, huh?” Chris’s frown became a bitter smile.
“I . . . have no idea.” Jalen’s muscles tightened from a fresh jolt of fear.
“Yeah, you do.” Chris narrowed his eyes but kept his hands to himself.
“I didn’t do that.”
“Maybe, but you knew about it.” Chris folded his long arms and leaned into the lockers, striking a casual pose. It looked to Jalen like he was holding up the wall. “But I want to bury the hatchet, you know?”
Jalen rubbed his jaw, which was still sore, if not swollen.
“I mean, we’re on the same team, right?” Chris raised his eyebrows.
“Where is this coming from?” Jalen looked around. Maybe someone was videotaping his response. Maybe someone was about to spill a can of paint over his head.
Chris shrugged. “I’m just a good guy.”
Jalen snorted.
“No?” Chris looked offended.
“Maybe.” Jalen looked around. The hallways were beginning to empty. He took a step backward. “I don’t know.”
“You should know.” Chris unfolded his arms and stepped forward. “If I wasn’t a good guy, I’d be beating the crap out of you right now.”
“It wasn’t me. I swear.”
“Yeah, well, if I were you, I’d just quit right now.”
“Quit?”
“The Rockets.” Chris folded his arms again. “Just quit. Again, here I am being the nice guy, because you are not going to want to go through everything I’ve got planned for you this summer. But I was thinking, instead of being distracted by the punishment I need to inflict on you and your scurvy friend, I’d rather focus on my curveball. But if you’re around . . . well, I can’t let you get away with what you did.”
“You can’t scare me.” Jalen straightened his back.
“No?” Chris smiled and nodded and turned to walk away.
The instant Jalen relaxed, Chris spun around, shrieked like a demon, and lunged right at him.