Page 45 of Leave Me Broken

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Page 45 of Leave Me Broken

She nods and backs away to help Mika with her outfit. Chanel was the most excited about Mika’s body and took the second longest amount of time deciding what she would wear. I took the longest but not because she thought everything would look good on me.

I’m pulling up my skirt when someone bumps into my back. “Sorry,” Alyssa mutters.

The skirt is tight, like no way I could sit down in this, but I don’t look like stuffed sausage so it’s fine. Actually, I feel kind of sexy. That’s not a feeling I feel . . . well, ever.

I reach for the sweater, but someone passes it to me instead. I don’t tell her thank you, I just stare at her while she stares at my outreached arm. I rip my arm back after a second and scowl. “Mind your business, Alyssa.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” I hate how soft her voice is. I hate not hearing her snap or be a bitch. This version of Alyssa, the quiet one who hands me my clothes and doesn’t steal them away, is confusing and more uncomfortable than her seeing my arms.

“What is your issue?”

The muttering from the other girls stops. Alyssa nervously looks at them, then drops her eyes to the ground. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been quiet and not bitchy. It’s uncomfortable.”

She gives me what I think is meant to be a smile, but fails. “You want me to be a bitch?”

“No, I just don’t want you to act like this. It’s annoying because I’m the one hurt and you are the one pouting.”

Anytime I mention my injury, Alyssa flinches—this time is no different. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Yeah? Well, it did.”

“Will you get to play the rest of the season?”

“Yes.”

Alyssa chews on her bottom lip, obviously wanting to say something.

“Spit it out, Burton.”

“I’m not ready for my playing career to be over.” Her voice is vulnerable, more than I’ve ever heard.

“What can I do about that?”

She huffs, it’s killing her having to be nice. Having to ask me for a favor. “I was hoping you could talk to As—Coach.”

I want to claw her, hearing her slip up on his name. “And you think I can convince him to let you play again?”

Her eyes sag. There’s the old Alyssa. “Yeah, I think you can.”

She’s right, of course. I probably could. “I don’t know if I want to. How can I trust you won’t hurt me again when I get back to playing? Or someone else on the team when they are having an off day?”

“I guess you just have to trust me.”

I laugh, I don’t mean to—but I do. More of the old Alyssa comes back and she crosses her arms over her chest. “I will never trust anything that comes out of your mouth, Alyssa.” Her anger fades again and my heart squeezes. I don’t know if I would say I hate Alyssa, I don’t like her and if it wasn’t for volleyball, I wouldn’t be talking to her, but the truth is—she is one of the best players on the team. If we want to go far this season, we need her. Especially with my knee. I bite my lip, then blurt as she’s about to walk away. “Fine.”

She pauses. “I’ll talk to him but I can’t promise anything. Coach Pearson might be the most stubborn person I know.”

Her lips quirk. “I know. Thanks.”

She has to throw it in that she knows. Ugh. I’m already regretting this.

“There’s a couple things before I fully agree.”

Alyssa mutters something under her breath but faces me and shrugs. “What?”

I take a minute to think over what I want to say. I’m on a power kick lately, first with Ash in the parking lot and now holding Alyssa’s destiny over her head. I kind of like it. I like it a lot.




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