Page 38 of Chasing Headlines
I steeled myself and looked away.
The unbelievable pendejo knelt on the floor in front of me. And literally begged. “Pretty please? I'll do anything. Your laundry? Your homework. I'll put in a good word for you with Coop.”
“Please don't. Do . . . any of that. Maybe the laundry. But. Ugh, if I get in the middle of this, you owe me a favor. Big time.”
“Anything for my second favorite chica.” He gained his feet and wrapped me up in a one-armed hug. “Our first baby will be named Olivia. Or Oliver if it’s a boy. Gotta go!” He released me and swung around. I ducked as his ginormous duffle rushed through the air. He threw open the locker room door and disappeared inside.
Yeah, Hilda wasn't going to like this either. On the other hand, if favors from fellow students had any monetary value, I was on the path to being a millionaire.
Breslin POV
Campus Mental Health Division
“Your stress and anxiety scores have increased. But your depression scorehasimproved a bit.” The therapist folded her hands on her desk and met my gaze through small, rectangular lenses. “Is there any place you’d like to start?”
I looked down at my hands. While I understood the reasoning behind this exercise in wasting my time, it didn’t make the minutes—or questions—any less irritating. “Like what?”
Dr. Hamer picked up her glasses and settled them over the bridge of her nose. “Well, classes have started.” She flipped a page in her folder.
I nodded.
“Anything interesting so far?” She glanced at me over the top of her frames.
I shrugged. “Not really.”
“Ok.” She placed the folder down and folded her hands together again. “When we last met, baseball camp was about to start. Was it what you expected?”
“I guess.”
She tilted her head like she was trying to look at me from a different angle. “You met your teammates, I presume.”
“I met the other freshmen competing for a spot on the roster.”
Her mouth tightened and she frowned. Ugh, I needed to give her something positive-sounding.
“And Fendleman, they call him Fens. He’s the captain from last season’s team.”
Her tight expression remained in place. “Have you made any friends?”
One of my callouses on my left palm started to peel. I pulled at the dried skin.
“Mr. Cooper?”
I shrugged but didn't look at her. I knew what she wanted me to say. I'm sure someone like Rally Girl called home and told her parents all about how great everyone was here. How she'd already made so many amazing new friends. But I still didn't want anything to do with this place. It was just somewhere I could play baseball—in the interim.
“You know how this works. If you don’t cooperate?—”
“You’ll put it in the report to the Deputy and my coaches.” I scowled at her. “Sounds . . . voluntary.”
She sighed. “The coaches send me notes, too. But I was hoping we could just.” She laid her hands out on her desk. “Talk.”
“Sure. Talk away.” I crossed my arms and sat back. “You’re the one with an agenda.”
“How’s your father?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
She flipped some pages. “Before, you mentioned he was calling you practically daily, and?—”