He grinned, glancing over at me and I took the moment to study his face.

There it was. A charming deep dimple on his left cheek. Much deeper than Troy’s, who only had a faint hint of one on the same side. I should know, I practically gawked at that boy walking these halls for weeks since I started at East Brooklyn.

“Yeah, um…you see this…uh, lever back here? Just lift it at the same time you pull down the lock.” He demonstrated again.

I shook my head. “You have no idea how long it took me to figure that out.” I giggled, which was unlike me, but he was so tense, it was a little awkward.

He nodded.

“Any way, good meeting you, officially, I guess.”

I turned, somehow not expecting him to say anything else to me.

“If you ever need help with anything else,” he shrugged, and I waited for a moment before I realized there wasn’t more to that.

I nodded. “Right. Thanks.”

12. August

12

“I hope she was worth it because you just cost yourself two games and a fifteen thousand dollar fine,” Coach barked in my ear, doing nothing but sweetening up the pot for me.

Two birds.

I’d pay the fine for my brother. But at least he had an extra few games to get his shit together and wouldn’t be calling me again. He’d still have to show up but at least the pressure of playing was eliminated.

Ryan was pissed too. He’d planned on me finishing the game strong. He and Simon were both convinced that they in fact didn’t have the wrong twin playing these last few games.

To me, it didn’t matter—whether we won or lost tonight, Harper was going to win.

My chest tightened as I wondered if that was enough. From where I stood, she hadn’t seemed to appreciate it much at all.

No. Harper wouldn’t. Despite her cute efforts last week, she wasn’t the vengeful type. She was hurt and wanted to stand up for herself.

I only hoped I helped get her some closure.

Would there ever be anything that could erase the hurt and humiliation he caused her?

Troy was going to be livid, but I could handle him. I didn’t have time to process if I’d gone too far by pulling that stunt on national television, tainting his name and image.

It was close to eleven that night when I knocked on his door. I was no coward and I needed to get this over with.

My brother pulled the door open roughly. He was wearing a stained t-shirt and sweats. He looked me up and down with disappointment and turned wordlessly to walk back into his apartment.

Yeah, I’m the washout here…

He didn’t need to tell me he’d seen it. I know he had. I kept telling myself he was meant to.