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Back Moment of Truth Save as PDF
Chapters (47)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-One
  24. Twenty-Two
  25. Twenty-Three
  26. Twenty-Four
  27. Twenty-Five
  28. Twenty-Six
  29. Twenty-Seven
  30. Twenty-Eight
  31. Twenty-Nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-One
  34. Thirty-Two
  35. Thirty-Three
  36. Thirty-Four
  37. Thirty-Five
  38. Thirty-Six
  39. Thirty-Seven
  40. Thirty-Eight
  41. Thirty-Nine
  42. 2 Months Later
  43. Acknowledgments
  44. About the Author
  45. Books by Kasie West
  46. Back Ad
  47. About the Publisher

My mom left, and I shut my bedroom door, then fell back onto my bed with a groan. My mom was right: the charity dinner was where I should go. But I couldn’t help but think that being at the awards banquet would be important for the next year of swimming. For making sure Coach knew I wasn’t just in this for me, that I supported the team. But my parents were important to me too. Why was this so hard?

I reached for my phone. I needed to talk to Amelia about this. She’d tell me what to do. I swiped across the screen of my phone. The direct message notification reminded me I had a message waiting. Instead of calling Amelia, I found myself clicking on the envelope icon.

Turns out I didn’t want to swim again last night.

I stared at the message. Was he trying to get a reaction or was that his backward way of saying I didn’t have to worry about him messing up a swim meet again? I thought about ignoring him but then typed: Control the urge for the final meet this year and I will have no problems with you.

As I moved to exit out of the screen, I saw the three dots showing he was responding. I waited until it buzzed through.

So that is the only problem you have with me?

Was he looking for validation? He’d come to the wrong place. I typed back: That is the only thing I care about.

Swimming?

I narrowed my eyes. No, you disrupting my swimming.

Good to know.

Who are you? I needed to know who to avoid in real life.

I thought you already knew.

I knew he didn’t really believe that. I’d given myself away at the museum when I’d chased him down and demanded his identity. No, you didn’t. So . . . who are you?

Nice try.

What’s it take to find out?

A need.

What does that even mean? I asked.

If you don’t know what it means, then you don’t have it.

We’re talking in riddles now?

He didn’t respond right away, and I found myself refreshing the page to make sure the site hadn’t frozen. When nothing happened, I got up and pulled a pair of socks out of my dresser. I went to put on a sweatshirt and realized it was Robert’s. I had forgotten to return it. I loved this sweatshirt and not because it was Robert’s—well, maybe a little because it was his—but because it was comfortable.