The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3) - Page 49

“Shit, Bina.” I sigh, defeated.

She squeaks and I’m scared she’s about to cry. “No, Bennett. No.”

“Bina, it’s complicated,” I say.

“So you’re doing steroids?”

“No,” I say firmly. “I’m not. But Coach Matthews has made it look like I am.”

“Why would he do that? I don’t believe you.” Yep, she’s about to cry.

“Dammit, Sabrina, I’m your brother. Who are you going to believe? Some shitty sports reporter or your family?”

“It doesn’t make any sense, though.” She bangs something else, it sounds like she’s rattling in the silverware drawer. “Why would he fudge a drug test?”

I sigh. “I can’t talk about this with you, Bina.”

“Is it because I’m a reporter or your sister?”

“Both,” I answer, feeling a headache coming on. “There’s just a lot of shit going on right now.” I rub the back of my head. “The last drug test I did for Matthews was when I was still playing for the team so that was months ago. Just let this go, please?” I beg her. “All I want is to make it through this season and get traded to another team.”

“Traded? You want to leave?”

I look toward the lights dotting campus. “Yes. I have to.”

I have to get away from Matthews before he ruins my life.

All because of what I saw.

“Why? What’s going on?” She pesters. “Talk to me, Bennett. I’m your sister.”

“That’s exactly why I can’t talk to you. You don’t know what I’m up against. This guy … I don’t trust him.”

“Your coach?”

“Yes.”

She grows quiet. “I’ll look into it.”

“Bina, no,” I beg.

But it’s too late, she’s already hung up.

“That sounded intense.”

I look up to find Grace standing over me. It’s the second time she’s stumbled upon me in a heated conversation.

“Yeah.” I sigh. My voice sounds tired, like all the fight’s gone out of me, but the fight is really only beginning.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re taking an unexpected trip to Boston in the middle of the night?”

“It’s not the middle of the night,” I counter. She raises a brow. “I’ll explain in the car.”

Explain what I can, at least.

“You better.” She slings her duffle bag into my chest, and I cough from the unexpected impact with my gut. “You dragged me out of my dorm room, the least you can do is carry my bag.” Her green eyes sparkle with laughter.

My lips quirk into a smile and we fall into step beside each other, walking across campus.

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