“Doesn’t seem like you to trip and fall,” Kendall says.
“Tree branch,” Amber mutters, wincing.
“Damn. That sucks.”
I keep quiet, even as we enter the building and make our way to the elevator. When we’re on the second floor, Kendall tells me to keep Amber steady and then charges ahead to unlock the third door down.
I scoop her up again and carry her into the apartment, placing her down on the sofa. Sighing, Amber leans back, and Kendall slides the coffee table closer so that Amber can rest her sprained ankle on top of it.
“I’ll see if Veronika is back and has the crutches for you,” I tell her. I’m fucking useless. She can’t even look at me. She’s pissed at me and is trying to hide it.
“Okay. Thanks, Coach.”
“I can skip class to help you out, Amber. It’s no big deal,” Kendall says, sitting on the sofa next to her. “I hate numbers anyway.”
“That’s okay, Kendall. Seriously. I’m fine. I’m here now so it’s cool.”
I go to the door just as Kendall whispers, “Be honest. Did you really trip over a fucking tree branch?”
Amber lowers her head.
I walk out of the apartment.
THIRTEEN
Afternoon practice is slow. Nicole came up to me first thing to ask if Amber was okay. I told her she was fine, but didn’t miss the look she gave me, as if she had something more to say.
Unfortunately, Howard showed up, bouncing around and giggling and gossiping, as if nothing had ever happened.
She’s evil. That’s all I can assume.
I’m not usually so spiteful, but she had to pay for what she’d done, whether she knew I’d seen what happened or not. While the other girls practiced, I made Howard run up and down the stairs between the stadium seats for “talking too much.” It was my only excuse. And shit, she was talking too damn much.
After that, I made her run six laps around the track. By the time she was finished, her face was beet red, and she was so out of breath that she couldn’t talk anymore. Hell, that was the least I could make her do.
When practice is over, I go straight to Hamilton’s office. She’s sitting in her chair, reading over a thick packet of paper. Her desk is cluttered with folders and miscellaneous papers, and in the corner—up against the wall—is a short bookcase filled with track and field books, sports medicine books, and other things relative to sports and running.
I give the door three taps with my knuckles.
Hamilton looks over the glasses on the bridge of her nose to look at me. “Torres. How can I help you?” She immediately focuses on her papers again.
I step in and close the door. When she hears it click shut, she looks up again. She knows I only close the door when it’s urgent.
“What is going on?” she asks, brows drawing together as she takes her glasses off. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, Torres.”
“I need to talk to you. About Howard.”
“Okay?” She places the packet of paper down and sits up in her chair. “Do you want to sit?”
“No. This won’t be long.” I clear my throat. “As you know, I had the meter runners out this morning for a jog-to-sprint from Marble to the track.”
She nods, but I can tell she’s confused as to where this is going.
“Well, while we were on the trail and getting close to the field, Lakes tripped over something and fell.”
“Shit. Is she okay?”
“No. She has an ankle sprain. It’s not too severe, but she will have to be out of practice for the next week or so, I’m sure.”
“Jesus.”
I pause a moment, debating on how to go about this. I guess it’s best to rip it off like a Band-Aid. “She tripped over Howard’s foot.” I lay it out there, loud, and clear.
Hamilton cocks her head and narrows her eyes. “What?”
“I was behind the girls when we were running, and I saw Howard swing her foot over and trip Lakes. On purpose. And I’m sure another teammate saw it happen too, but I don’t want to drag her into this. Seems to me she’s a little unnerved by Howard too.”
“Jesus. Are you serious?” Hamilton’s gaze falls and she shakes her head.
“Lakes says she knows it was Hamilton. She’s not happy. I told her I’d tell you about it.”
“Well, what did you say to Howard when it happened?”
“Come on, Freya! What the hell could I have possibly said after what happened to me last time? I wanted to cuss her the fuck out, but that would have been against conduct and I’m sure I would have gotten fired for it. And it’s not like Howard is just some girl who goes to Bennett. Her father? The donations? Apparently, we owe him a debt and always have to treat his daughter like a fucking princess, remember?”