Second First Kiss

“Ouch.” She looked genuinely pained. Not for the loss of the game, but for him. The wince was for his pain. That was new. He hadn’t seen that in this town. Ever. “That lost it for the Eagles, I take it?”

“No, no. It was much more dramatic than that. Climb into my Time Machine of Shame as I describe why the population of Mendon wishes I’d been abducted by aliens my senior year instead of ruining their lives.”

“Their lives,” she dead-panned.

“You’d think, from the way they reacted.” And still reacted, daily. Every minute he spent in this town he needed armor from the flaming arrows. “No, after that, there were several seconds remaining, and the Eagles still had a two-point lead. Then I ended up with the ball, and … in a moment of delirium passed the ball to the other team. That same center made a three-point shot from center court—and ended the game.”

“Wow. I’d say personally ruining a four-point lead in the state championship game could get a guy black-listed around here.” She lifted a brow, drawing his attention to her eyes again.

“Forever.” Which was why he was getting out of here post haste. “Some people accused me of being paid to throw the game. That kicked off the violence.”

“Violence!”

“I mean, no one actually got hurt, though there were definitely a few threats. And rumors.”

“What kind of threats and rumors?” She looked genuinely concerned.

Jasher’s neck muscle loosened its knot a degree. See? Sage Everton, as expected, was too nice to be one of them.

“Were any of those threats acted upon?”

“You ever heard of Cade Calhoun?” Who hadn’t in this town? She’d allegedly been chummy with the cowboy reject last night at the fundraiser, but Jasher could play dumb about that.

“Sure.” Her tone didn’t sound impressed. She certainly didn’t giggle at some memory of Cade whispering in her ear. Maybe she didn’t bid on him. “The bull rider.”

Bull something-er. “Before bulls, he conquered the wood of Eagle Court.” The Mendon High basketball court was this town’s temple, and Calhoun had been its high priest in his day. “He took it personally when the forty points he’d made in the game were nullified by my error.”

No one ever mentioned that Jasher had made twenty-nine points himself that night. They only remembered his last few, dehydration-fueled seconds of the game.

“I bet his fans were mad.”

“Mad enough to suggest pitchforks and torches.”

“Did your family call the police?”

“Chief Calhoun?”

“Oh.”

“Right.”

“That was not your finest hour.”

“There were twenty-two consecutive state championship banners, up until that year.” He closed his eyes. “And from what I hear, the following dozen.”

“Oh.”

“They left a blank spot for my year. Might as well have coated it with day-glo paint that read Jasher Hotchkiss screwed up this one.”

“That’s not nice.” She grimaced.

“You know? Some people look back on high school as the best years of their lives.”

“Not you.”

“Nope.” There. It was all out for her to examine. His greatest shame. “So, I guess that makes you as annoyed as everyone else.”

“Actually, I’m furious with you for a completely different reason.”