Page 110 of The Backup Plan
“I won’t let him do that, coach. And he wouldn’t do that, anyway.”
Avery scrubbed the timeline back a few seconds and listened to the exchange again and again, brows furrowed as she scribbled in her sketchbook. The coach knew he was leaving. Maybe not why or when, but he knew something was wrong enough for an exit plan, and he fooled everyone into thinking he was as shocked as they were.
Natasha’s jangling keys startled Avery from her daze. “Hey,” she mumbled, eyeing the spread papers. “Who’s that?”
“The quarterback before Cameron. The one who went missing.”
“Obsess much?”
Avery bit her lip to stop herself from sniping back. “Just research for a piece about… about…” She flailed for the word. Mystery, loss, disappearance?—
“Football? Shocker.”
“Circumstantial evidence.”
Natasha disappeared into the bathroom.
“I’m sorry about what happened the other day,” Avery called after her.
“You already said that,” Natasha replied, her voice muffled by the door. “It’s dorm life. Whatever.”
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
The door opened. “You’re making me uncomfortable every time you bring it up, but by all means, keep reminding of that fine view of your boyfriend’s ass.”
Avery scooped the printouts into a sloppy pile. “Why don’t you like me anymore?” she demanded. “Even before the thing with Cam. We used to hang out all the time, and now you never want to.”
“We don’t have to hang out. We live together.”
“I always tell you when I’m going to go eat to see if you want to come. You never ask me.”
“You don’t always,” Natasha shot back. “I lost my dinner invitation every night you eat with Isaac.”
“You lost that invitation because you were embarrassing yourself and making him really uncomfortable.”
“Well, we’ve both settled in a little and made our own friends, so I think it’s fine to just have a nice, respectful living arrangement. We don’t have to do everything together. I’m so glad there aren’t any sororities here where everyone has to just be sisters at the flick of a magic wand.” Natasha flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. “That’s so fake. You and I are cool, right? We can each do our own thing.”
Avery looked down, pretending something in her stack of papers caught her eye. “Sorry. I was kind of overbearing. Of course we’re cool.”
“I mean, I don’t mind if you bring Cam around.”
She didn’t respond to the insinuation, and picked up a conté crayon to sketch Jordan in quarter-profile in a few quick strokes. With a few colored pencils, shades of gold curled over his head, and deep blue irises lit his eyes. His lips turned up at one corner, rounding his cheek, and down on the other side into a frown.
Avery sorted the photos—helmet, and no helmet—for a better look at his face. With a thick pen, she traced his outline atop one of the printed pictures in a comic-book style, then used a fine-point pen to dot tiny parallel rows at an angle to his face to create a halftone effect. She colored his eyes blue and his hair gold again.
Look at you, she said to her sketch, not speaking aloud since Natasha was on her bed studying. You’re Captain America with a little Lothario, aren’t you? You could be James Bond in this drawing, or grow out your hair and be some influencer who lives in a van. You could sell designer weed or whole life insurance or Gatorade, if you wanted to.
If you wanted to.
What did you want?
THIRTY-THREE
Come Back
CAMERON
Cam lay on his back in his bed, tossing his hat higher and higher until he found the perfect height for it to bump the ceiling and fall straight down into his hands. His phone was unmuted, the volume raised, so he wouldn’t miss the call—if it came. Knoxville is getting hot, Ethan said, and Cam knew it was no exaggeration.