I grabbed the nearest object — a rolled-up sock — and threw it at him.
He dodged easily, laughing. “Good to see your accuracy hasn’t left completely.”
I set the phone down. Determined not to look at it again. Not that it mattered — I felt the silence anyway.
“Did Dante say when he was going to be back?” I almost,almostpicked the phone up again to check, but the curl of Noah’s upper lip stopped me.
“He had two PTs to do, and they wanted him for media.”
“Feeling the burn of neglect,” I joked with him. “They always want the quarterback, not the ones who make the passes, the touchdowns. Or the guys holding the defensive line.”
Noah sniffed. “You think I’m jealous?” he asked with surprise. “Fuck no, he can doallthe media days. I hate talking to the cameras. What if I’ve got spit on my face or something?”
I laughed out loud. It was such a stupid thing to think about that it cracked me up. Noah laughed too, and when we quieted, it was just two guys waiting for the next shoe to drop.
Noah glanced at me. “Wasn’t the plan to get through this, get drafted, and get out?” It sounded like something he’d repeated to himself so often it had become reflex. “Am I right?”
“Still is,” I said with a nod.
He gave me a look that said he wasn’t sure it was true anymore. “Maybe for me.” His voice was clear. He wasn’t accusing me of anything. “For Dante? Savvy’s already in it, getting deeper the more involved she gets with Hadley.” He stretched his legs out. “And the same for you now.”
“The same for me? How?”
“You’re going to stay in this because of her.”
I didn’t answer.
“And that’s fine,” he said, voice dropping. “I’m not judging. But if she keeps digging and you keep circling her...” He stopped. “What she finds determines how much trouble findsher. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“So, if you want to keep her safe,” he added, “then you need to keep her close.”
It wasn’t advice; it was an observation of the situation as he saw it, stated plainly. The way Noah did. No ambiguity.
“Get through this, get drafted, get out,” I told him. “That’s still my plan.”
He nodded once. “Sure.”
Neither of us believed me.
The door opened, and Dante walked in, phone at his ear. He hesitated, looking at us both, eyebrows raised.
“No, I’m here. Yeah, I just got in.” He paused. “The laughing, yeah, that’s them.” He paused, lips twitching. “Okay, tell me when you get back. Tell her to drive safely.”
Whatever Savvy answered made her boyfriend smile, and he said goodbye.
“What’s funny?” he asked, dropping his backpack.
“What’d they find?” Noah asked, sitting up.
Dante was at the fridge, getting some water. He held up an extra bottle and offered it to us, but we both refused. Shutting the door, he turned to us.
“I have no idea. They made contact,” he snorted as he uncapped his bottle. “Like they’re FBI agents,” he scoffed. “Sav says she’ll tell us all together, so she doesn’t have to repeat herself.” He sighed. “They found the girl, though, so that’s... good?” His eyes flicked between Noah and me. “Is it? Is that good?”
I slouched down on the couch. “None of this is good.”
“I hear that,” Noah said with a grim nod. “So... more waiting?”