Chapter 4 Collision Course

The next week at school was torture. Adrian tried to catch my eye in AP Literature, but I became an expert at staring at my notebook. He lingered after class, but I always had somewhere urgent to be. He texted me twice-just "Can we talk?"-but I deleted both messages without responding. I threw myself into being the perfect invisible student. I ate lunch alone in the library, joined the debate team to fill my afternoons, and avoided the main courtyard where Adrian's crowd gathered. It should have worked. It might have worked, if not for the basketball game.

"You have to come," Mom insisted Friday morning over breakfast. "It's Adrian's biggest game of the season, and we're family now. Richard's so excited to have us there supporting him." Richard beamed at me across the table. "Adrian's been asking if you're coming. I think it would mean a lot to him." Adrian had been asking about me? I tried to ignore the flutter in my chest. "I have debate practice," I lied. "Maya, honey," Mom's voice had that tone that meant I wasn't getting out of this. "You've been working so hard lately. You need to have some fun, make friends. This is the perfect opportunity." Two hours later, I found myself in the Westbridge Academy gymnasium, surrounded by screaming teenagers and the overwhelming scent of teenage desperation masked by expensive cologne. I'd chosen a seat high in the bleachers, hoping to blend into the crowd. I should have known better. "Maya! There you are!" Sophia appeared beside me like a perfectly manicured storm cloud, flanked by two other girls who looked like they'd stepped out of a magazine. "I was wondering when you'd finally show up to support your stepbrother." The way she said "stepbrother" made it sound like something dirty. "I'm here for my parents," I said evenly. "Of course you are." Sophia's smile was razor-sharp. "Though I have to say, you picked interesting seats. Perfect view of the court... and Adrian." One of her friends-a redhead with calculating eyes-leaned forward. "So you're the one everyone's been talking about. The girl who moved into the Cross mansion." "Lucky you," the other one added. "Living with Adrian Cross. Half the girls at school would kill for that kind of access." "It's not like that," I said quickly. "Isn't it?" Sophia tilted her head, studying me like a predator sizing up prey. "Because Adrian's been... distracted lately. Off his game, you could say. And it all started when you arrived." My stomach clenched. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Don't you?" Sophia's voice dropped to a whisper. "Let me give you some free advice, Maya. Adrian feels sorry for you. That's all this is. You're a charity project, a way for him to feel good about himself. But don't confuse pity with anything else." Before I could respond, the crowd erupted in cheers. The teams were taking the court. Adrian emerged from the tunnel with his teammates, and even from this distance, he was magnetic. Tall, confident, moving with an athlete's easy grace. The crowd went wild, and I could see why. In his basketball uniform, he looked like every high school sports movie fantasy come to life. His eyes swept the crowd, and I knew the moment he found me. Even from fifty feet away, I felt the impact of his gaze like a physical force. He raised his hand in a small wave, and my heart did something complicated in my chest. "See?" Sophia's voice was poison in my ear. "He's being nice because he has to be. Don't read into it." The game started, and I tried to focus on the action instead of the way Adrian moved on the court-fluid, powerful, completely in control. But every time he scored, every time the crowd chanted his name, I felt myself being pulled deeper into something I couldn't control. Westbridge was up by twelve at halftime when disaster struck. I was coming out of the bathroom when I ran into someone coming around the corner. Literally ran into them, hard enough to send both of us stumbling. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't-" I looked up and froze. It was a girl from my AP History class, someone I'd barely spoken to but who'd always seemed nice enough. Now she was staring at me with undisguised hostility. "You're Maya Chen," she said. It wasn't a question. "Yes?" "You need to stay away from Adrian Cross." The words hit me like a slap. "Excuse me?" "You heard me." Two more girls appeared beside her, forming a semicircle that effectively trapped me against the wall. "Everyone knows you're trying to get your claws into him. But he's with Sophia, and he's way out of your league." "I'm not trying to-" "Please. You think we don't see the way you look at him? The way you follow him around?" "I don't follow him around!" "No? Then explain why you're suddenly in all his favorite spots. The library corner where he studies, the coffee shop off campus, even AP Lit-which everyone knows you only took because he's in it." Heat flooded my cheeks. "That's not-" "Look, I get it," the first girl continued, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "You won the lottery when your mom married his dad. But don't mistake charity for anything else. Adrian's just being nice because he has to live with you." There was that word again. Charity. "He doesn't even see you as a real person," one of the others added. "You're just the poor girl his family took pity on. Do yourself a favor and remember that." They walked away, leaving me pressed against the bathroom wall with my cheeks burning and my hands shaking. I wanted to run. Wanted to call Mom and beg her to take me home, away from this school where everyone saw me as exactly what I was-an outsider who didn't belong. Instead, I walked back to my seat and pretended to watch the second half of the game. Adrian was on fire in the third quarter, scoring basket after basket with an intensity that seemed almost angry. Every shot was perfect, every move calculated. The crowd was going insane. But something was wrong. I could see it in the set of his shoulders, the way he kept glancing up at the stands. When a player from the other team got too aggressive, Adrian shoved back harder than necessary, earning a warning from the referee. "What's gotten into him?" I heard someone behind me say. "He's playing like he's pissed off about something," came the reply. The game was almost over, Westbridge ahead by twenty, when Adrian made a steal and was racing down the court for an easy layup. I was on my feet with everyone else, caught up in the excitement despite everything. That's when I saw the other player coming up behind him, moving too fast, at a bad angle. "Watch out!" I screamed, but my voice was lost in the crowd noise. The collision was sickening. Adrian went down hard, his head hitting the court with a sound I felt in my bones. The gymnasium went silent. He wasn't getting up. I was moving before I realized it, pushing through the crowd, jumping over bleacher seats, running toward the court. Security tried to stop me, but I heard Richard's voice behind me. "Let her through! That's family!" I dropped to my knees beside Adrian's still form. His eyes were closed, and there was blood trickling from a cut above his eyebrow. The team medic was already there, checking his pulse, his pupils. "Adrian?" I whispered, not caring who heard the desperation in my voice. "Please be okay." His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then finding mine. "Maya?" His voice was rough, confused. "You came." "Of course I came," I said, and realized I was crying. "Don't try to move, okay? Help is coming." His hand found mine, fingers intertwining. "You're here." "I'm here." Around us, I was dimly aware of coaches talking, paramedics arriving, Sophia pushing through the crowd demanding to know what happened. But all I could focus on was Adrian's eyes locked on mine, his hand gripping mine like an anchor. "I need to tell you something," he said, still groggy from the hit. "Save your strength." "No, listen. What Sophia said about you-it's not true. None of it's true." My heart stopped. "Adrian, you don't-" "You're not charity, Maya. You're not nothing. You're-" "Sir, we need to get him to the hospital," one of the paramedics interrupted. "Possible concussion." As they loaded Adrian onto a stretcher, he kept his eyes on me until the very last second. "Come with me?" he asked. I looked around at the crowd of faces-Sophia's furious expression, the shocked stares of classmates who'd just seen me break down completely, Richard and Mom pushing through to reach us. "Of course," I said. Because somewhere between the collision and the confession, I'd stopped caring about staying invisible. Some lines weren't meant to be crossed. But maybe some lines were meant to be completely obliterated.