Curveball (Barlow Sisters Book 1)

by Jordan Ford

  “Would you shut up?” I snap. “I kissed her because I like her.”

  “Why?” Luke’s confusion is kind of insulting. It’s like he’s decided to hate Maddie from the outset. He only sees her as a threat.

  I want him to understand how amazing she is, but he’ll never get it.

  Instead, I shake my head and look away from him. “I guess I just got caught up in a moment. She’s hot, you know? Great body. Nice lips.”

  Luke grins and rolls his eyes. “You’re such a stud, Carter.”

  “Shut up.” I swing a fake punch at him and then laugh when he launches into a play fight.

  I let the tussle go on for a couple of minutes, hoping he’ll forget about the Barlow sisters. I don’t want him starting up a gossip chain that will just lead to more trouble.

  “Come on, man.” I push him off me. “Let’s go get that new gear.”

  “Sounds good to me.” He grabs his bag and hitches it onto his shoulder before we walk through the workout room and into Coach Keenan’s office. I scan his desk, looking for the inventory he promised to print out. He wants us to check it off at the store when we’re buying the gear.

  “It’s not here.” I purse my lips.

  Luke steps into the tiny space and starts pulling open desk drawers.

  “What are you doing?” I frown.

  He stops and looks up at me like I’m stupid. “Looking for the inventory.”

  “We can’t just go through his desk.”

  “Dude, he doesn’t care. He’s always sending us down here to get stuff for him.”

  I go still. “Really? I thought with all the stealing going on that he’d be a little more paranoid. Every other teacher seems to be.”

  “He probably doesn’t keep anything worth stealing in his desk.” Luke starts yanking on different drawers until he reaches one in the center that won’t budge. “Huh? Maybe he does. I bet his wallet and keys are safely locked up in here now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t you know?” Luke glances at me. “The spare key to Coach’s truck is missing. The police think that’s how it was taken so quietly in the night.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  Luke shrugs and looks just a little shame-faced as he mutters, “I eavesdropped on a phone call Coach was having after practice yesterday. He admitted that he keeps a spare set of keys in his office and that he can’t find them.”

  I frown at Luke and he just snickers. “I was curious, okay? I was waiting for him to mention Vincent’s name, but it never came up. I can’t believe the school is stupid enough to think it’s not him. He probably snuck down here after school while we were all practicing.”

  I reach down and run my finger over the lock, feeling for signs of forced entry. It feels fine to me.

  “You know Coach is a pretty laid-back guy.” Luke scratches his curls. “Maybe it didn’t occur to him that Vincent would be ballsy enough to just walk in here.”

  “You honestly think the guy would just stroll in during practice?” My shoulders hitch. “Wouldn’t someone have seen him? He’d stand out in this part of the school. He’s not sporty, so he’d never venture down here.”

  “I don’t know, man. When we’re all focused on training, it’d be pretty easy to sneak down here.”

  My eyebrows pinch together in thought.

  “What does that look on your face mean?” Luke slaps me on the shoulder.

  “I’m just thinking…what if Coach is a little too casual sending us down here to get stuff out of his office?”

  Luke tips his head like he’s trying to figure out what I’m saying. “We’re his team. He trusts us.”

  “Maybe he shouldn’t,” I murmur.

  Luke’s head jolts back, his surprise morphing into a frown. “What are you saying?”

  “Maybe Vincent didn’t steal Coach’s truck. Maybe it was some other student who came down here on an errand or something, saw the keys and a great opportunity.”

  Luke’s eyes bulge as he runs a hand over his head. “You think it was one of the team?”

  I clench my jaw. Is that what I’m implying right now? That I think one of my teammates is guiltier than Vincent?

  There’s no way I’m saying that shit.

  I shake my head—firm and adamant. “One of our guys wouldn’t do this.”

  “You’re right.” Luke bobs his head, but then he winces and gives me a pained smile. “But what about one of our girls?”

  It’s my turn to do a little eye bulging.

  “Are you out of your mind?” I whack his shoulder. “The homecoming money was taken before they even got here.”

  “Why are we assuming it’s the same person?”

  I give Luke an incredulous look.

  “I’m just saying.” He raises his hands. “Maybe Vincent took homecoming and someone else took this.”

  I cross my arms and glare at him. “And which Barlow sister are you accusing?”

  Looking to the floor, he scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Chloe’s too sweet and innocent, and Maddie’s too self-righteous. As much as I hate to say this…Max is the only one with the balls to do it.”

  “Max.” I frown at him.

  Luke shrugs. “Look, it’s only a theory. She’s often late to practice and turns up looking kind of distracted and twitchy, don’t you think? Plus, I saw her talking to Roman Sanchez the other day. They were whispering about something. And then when you just said that about this desk and it could be a team member and I… It just got me thinking.”

  What the hell is Max doing talking to Roman? Shit, if he’s trying to offer her drugs I’m going to pound him.

  She’s smarter than that. She wouldn’t get pulled into his shit, would she?

  “She’s not like that,” I murmur. “It’s not her.”

  He snickers and shakes his head. “Let’s hope so, ’cause I don’t want her getting kicked off the team. Let’s just both keep our mouths shut and pretend we didn’t have this conversation. I’m happy to be wrong.” He winks and points at the desk. “Check that bottom drawer and I’ll do this side.”

  The thought sits like a rock in my stomach, heavy and uncomfortable. It can’t be Max, but…it’s not like I know her well enough to say that with total conviction.

  Maybe I should have a chat with Maddie.

  Although, after what just went down, I doubt she’ll let me anywhere near her right now.

  Shit, this is so messed up.

  I reluctantly hunch over and pull open the bottom right drawer. The inventory is sitting on top of a pile of sports manuals. I snatch it out and quickly shut the drawer with my foot.

  “Okay.” Scanning the page, I run my finger down the list and start making a mental note of what we need to replace.

  Luke rubs his hands together with a gleeful smile. “Let’s go shopping.” He spins and walks out.

  I follow him. When we reach the corridor, my eyes skim the spot where Maddie and I kissed.

  I can still feel her tongue on mine—that smooth game of give and take, her sweet flavor.

  And then the tragedy of being discovered by Chloe.

  The ashy aftermath of this messed-up reality.

  It’s gonna suck on so many levels.

  The students will have a field day with this one.

  Dammit, they cannot find out.

  “Hey, Luke.” I stop him before he gets too far ahead. “Can you keep your mouth shut about…?” I point over my shoulder.

  “Oh, the whole kissing a Barlow thing?”

  I grimace and nod.

  “My lips are sealed, stud muffin. All Barlow secrets are on lockdown.” He winks at me, then cracks up laughing when I flip him off. “Come on, douche bag. Let’s go spend your dad’s money.”

  I slap my back pocket, making sure the Visa card is still in there before reluctantly following my friend out to his Jeep.

  I don’t see two of the Barlow sisters as we walk past the field towards the parking
lot, and I can’t help wondering about the shit that must be going down between them right now. I want to find Maddie and back her up, but I can’t help feeling like that’ll do more damage than good.

  As much as I hate it, I have to let the sisters battle this one out on their own.

  25

  Basket Case

  MADDIE

  I can’t find Chloe anywhere.

  I spend most of baseball practice searching the school for her, but come up empty-handed. When I finally get to the field, Coach balls me out in front of everyone for skipping practice without telling him.

  “And where’s your sister?” he barks at me.

  “I don’t know.” I look to the ground, then quickly cover for her so she won’t get in trouble. “She mentioned not feeling well when I saw her today. I’m pretty sure she’s gone home.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Max raises her mitt and grimaces. “Sorry, Coach, I was supposed to pass that message on. My fault.”

  The coach kind of grunts while Max and I share a quick look. She’s going to want to know why she’s lying for Chloe and me.

  Shit. I really don’t want to have to explain it to her.

  “Well, you don’t look sick. You got a better excuse than ‘sorry’ for why you've missed most of this practice? You know I sent my best pitcher and catcher off to buy sports gear this afternoon but wasn’t too worried, because I had two more I could count on. But what do you know, they never showed up!”

  Geez, Coach has been super grumpy since his truck was stolen. I’ve never seen him this riled before.

  “So, why weren’t you here?”

  What am I supposed to say? He doesn’t want to hear the truth. Ugh! I don’t even know how I’m going to admit out loud what I did to my little sister.

  My guilt is so strong I actually feel like throwing up, so I could honestly say that I’m feeling sick too, but instead I just shrug and murmur, “I lost track of time.”

  He frowns at me like he must be talking to the wrong Barlow girl. He even glances between Max and me, like he’s double-checking that we’re not playing swapsies on him.

  “It’s me, Coach. I screwed up.”

  Lifting his cap, he scratches his forehead, looking frustrated and confused. “I thought the season meant more to you than this.”

  “It does.”

  He ignores me and clips, “You disrespect your team when you don’t show up. You disrespect me.” Flicking his chin towards the locker rooms, he mutters, “Get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow, and you better be on time.”

  “Yes, Coach.” I shuffle away from the field feeling like total shit. Grabbing my stuff, I do one more thorough search of the school before finally relenting that Chloe must have left.

  When I reach the parking lot, our yellow Camry is already gone. With a frown, I pull out my phone and see that I missed a text from Max.

  Where’d you go? Do you need a ride home?

  I swipe to the left on my phone screen and reply:

  Do you know where Chloe is?

  She’s kickin it with Rahn.

  Where are you?

  Home. Do you need me to come pick you up?

  I sigh and shake my head before texting,

  No. I’ll see you at home.

  Slipping my phone into my jacket pocket, I hitch my bag higher onto my shoulder and begin the trek to our house. It’ll take about thirty minutes if I’m only walking, which is probably a good thing. I need time to stabilize my emotions before facing off with my little sister.

  She had tears in her eyes!

  What the hell have I done?

  In trying to protect her, I’ve gone and screwed everything up.

  I wish Holden had never kissed me.

  But then I don’t, because it was perfect.

  But I do, because it shouldn’t have happened!

  I shouldn’t have gone to Cresthill with him. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t doing it to protect Chloe! I was intrigued…and attracted. So I selfishly pursued something I never should have.

  And now this has happened.

  Dread surges in my belly, growing stronger and more storm-like the closer I get to home.

  By the time I reach our driveway, I’m a sweating, anxious mess.

  I still haven’t figured out what I’m going to say to Chloe. The truth won’t make her feel better.

  A car pulls up beside the house and I glance over my shoulder. Chloe gets out of Rahn’s VW Beetle, throwing me a toxic look before saying goodbye to her friend. Rahn peeks past her shoulder, her almond eyes narrowing to slits before she peels away from the curb.

  “Chloe, I—”

  “Don’t talk to me,” she snaps before storming up the front path and slamming into the house.

  Closing my eyes with a heavy sigh, I shuffle up the path and decide to use the back entrance.

  I hate this. I want time to rewind. Take me back to Columbus where things were simple and I had some semblance of control. Where my sister thought I was awesome, and knew I would always protect her no matter what.

  Clenching my teeth, I fight the burning tears and push open the door. Mom’s in the kitchen making herself a cup of herbal tea. She’s bobbing the bag up and down in the cup and gazing out the front window.

  Aw crap, did she see the way Chloe yelled at me?

  “Hey, Mom.” I greet her softly enough that she might not hear.

  Maybe I can sneak by unnoticed.

  But no such luck.

  “Madelyn?”

  “Uh, yeah?” I turn, hoping my expression is bland and unquestionable.

  “Is Chloe okay?”

  “Um… I’m not…” Crap, I’m gonna have to lie. I don’t want Mom involved in this drama. “I think she’s just had a really bad day.”

  Mom snorts and mutters something about not being the only one. With a huff, she dumps the hot teabag into the sink.

  “Uh.” I lick my lips and wince. “How’d the interview go this afternoon?”

  She won’t look at me while she sips her tea. She busies herself wiping down the counter. “Just go check on your sister, Maddie. I’m fine.”

  She flashes a tight smile over her shoulder, proving she’s a liar.

  Maybe if I drop to my knees and start begging, she’ll whisk us back to Columbus.

  But that still won’t fix it.

  I betrayed my sister and it doesn’t matter where in the world we go, that truth is going to hound us.

  My throat swells as I slowly pivot on my heel and make my way down the hall.

  Chloe’s door is shut tight. I gently tap the wood. “Chloe, it’s Maddie. Can I come in?”

  “Of course you can’t! Stay away from me!”

  “Please, Chloe, just let me explain.”

  “What I saw doesn’t need an explanation!”

  I wince and grit my teeth. “Okay, fine. You’re right. Can I just apologize, then?”

  “No! Go away!” She follows her shouting with a loud blast of music. “I Hate Everything About You” by Three Days Grace.

  Way to drive home the message, Chloe.

  There’s no way I’ll break through when she’s this pissed off. Walking into her room will only set off a nuclear bomb.

  It’s not like Chloe has a bad temper normally. But she has every right to blast her music in my face right now.

  I’m scum and I deserve to be stonewalled.

  Resting my forehead against her door, I let the music swamp me until I’m too bogged down to even move.

  “Come on.” Max appears beside me, grabbing my wrist and tugging me down to our room.

  Closing the door behind me, she gently pushes me onto my bed and then takes a seat on hers.

  I can’t say anything and shake my head when she asks, “So, what’s up with you and Chlo-Chlo?”

  Resting her elbows on her knees, she leans forward, forcing me to make eye contact with her.

  I work my jaw to the side.

  “You know you’re gonna have to spill. Becaus
e if you don’t tell me, I’m gonna charm my way into Chloe’s room and get her version of the events. So, what do you want me to hear first?”

  “Ugh!” I tip my head to the ceiling. “Fine.”

  In a voice made soft with remorse, I spill it all, from the way I told Holden off in Mr. Johnson’s classroom through to our non-date and then the kiss.

  I don’t tell her about Holden’s mom or that his grandpa lives at Cresthill. I just tell her he volunteers there.

  “Wow.” Her eyebrows pop north. “Holden’s not an asshat after all. Who knew?”

  “You’ve gotta swear you won’t tell anybody.”

  Max rolls her eyes and then leans across to lightly slap my knee. “Of course I won’t.”

  I cringe, squeezing my eyes tight. “I just wish we were back in Columbus. I wish Patrick was my boyfriend again.”

  “Why?” Max pokes out her tongue.

  I scowl at her. “So I’d have the perfect excuse not to fall for Holden. So none of this stuff would have happened!”

  “Oh, please.” Max smirks. “The way you’ve just been talking, you’d fall for Holden no matter what.”

  “That’s so not true.” I dig the toe of my shoe into the carpet.

  “Did you not just hear yourself describe the perfect kiss and the best non-date you’ve ever had? You are totally falling for Holden. Patrick would make no difference to that.”

  “That’s not true! Patrick is awesome. He’s smart, and intelligent, and clever and—”

  “About as exciting as a gray crayon,” Max finishes for me.

  I glare at her.

  “Don’t look at me like that. You just described Patrick using three synonyms. I’m guessing you’d be getting a lot more creative if we were talking about Holden Carter.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

  “Stop it,” I whine, frustrated by how right she is.

  With a little snicker, she shakes her head and glances at her watch. Her eyes round for a second and she jerks off the bed.

  Grabbing her bomber jacket, she puts it on and pulls her hair free. Her long locks tumble over her shoulders. It looks kind of pretty. I’m not used to seeing Max with her hair down. She usually ties it back off her face or buries it under her Clippers cap.