Cut Shot (Chicago Cats #2)

12 Years Ago

SAMMIE RAN FROM her brother, her secret pressing at the bars of its cage, threatening to finally escape.

A breath choked off in her throat, lungs swelling as the wood grain of the old door dug into her shoulder blades.

Her eyes began to burn, and Sammie blinked once, twice, fighting back the sensation.

Her nose tingled, but she would not start sniffling.

She didn’t even know why her nose and eyes were suddenly runny.

Atticus had been kissing a boy. Carl Matthews, to be specific. A boy in their grade who spent more time holed up in corners practicing on his violin than he did talking to anyone. Sammie hadn’t even known they were friends. So what were they doing kissing?

Her heart was still pounding, a rattling thump that vibrated all the way to her fingertips.

She sucked in another breath, deeper this time, and her throat finally opened enough to let her lungs fill.

They had been playing volleyball in the park.

Nothing official, just a few of their friends from the junior varsity teams. A pretty day, perfect for a game where the points were meaningless and laughter bounced off the trees surrounding the old, sandy court.

Atticus had disappeared afterwards, while Sammie had been awkwardly mingling on the outskirts of a conversation between some of the older players.

Her courage failed her, and instead of sticking around to continue looking like the gangly, shy fourteen year old she was, she had slipped away mostly unnoticed.

Only Kieran McCullough had offered up a goodbye, a cheerful wave before his kelly green eyes flicked back toward the conversation.

His hair looked more golden than its normal strawberry blond under the bright summer sun.

Sammie’s responding goodbye had been more of a breathy chirp, setting her cheeks aflame as she turned away.

It hadn’t taken long to find her twin. He was standing by the swings, hidden back in a far corner of the park that they hadn’t frequented for years.

One of the swings was occupied. Carl sat before Atticus, hands gripping the plastic wrapped chains, knuckles going white.

The boys were engrossed in a conversation that was too quiet for Sammie to pick up on as she approached, their eyes locked on one another.

She was just passing the jungle gym when Carl looked down at his lap, color flooding his pale, freckled cheeks.

That froze Sammie in place, the words she’d been about to call out to her brother sticking in her throat.

Atticus had his hands shoved in the pockets of his gym shorts, his own sun-tanned cheeks brightly flushed. A sneaking feeling that she was intruding on something, watching a moment that wasn’t for her, prickled in Sammie’s mind.

And then it happened. Sammie’s limbs went cold as she watched her brother lean forward, pressing his lips to Carl’s.

It had been a quick thing. Nothing more than a chaste, hurried touch.

Even so, by the time Atticus was pulling back, a bright grin plastered across his red face, Sammie had turned away.

She rushed home, too many thoughts whirling through her mind all at once.

They crowded out every other sound, every other sight, and before she knew it she was crashing through the door of their home, bounding down the long hallway to her bedroom at the end.

The whirlpool in her mind was finally slowing now that she’d taken a moment to settle. The cool air blasting from the window unit in her room seared her sweat-salted skin, burning its way into her chest. One thought finally pushed its way through, louder, brighter, bigger than all the rest.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

Sammie flinched at the sound of the front door slamming shut, glancing at the clock on her nightstand. Not quite noon, which meant her granny wouldn’t be home from church yet. That left only one other option for who had just walked into their home.

“Sammie!” Atticus was loud, always loud, his voice reaching the far corners of the house. “I’m making a sandwich, want one?”

“Yeah,” she yelled back, her voice cracking as the realization she’d had mere moments earlier continued to wash over her.

Wave after wave, a mixture of feelings that had her nose tingling even more.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Sammie launched herself away from her door just in time for her twin to swing it open.

“Why’d you run off without me?” Atticus held out a slapped-together sandwich, nothing but bread, ham, and a slice of cheese.

The flush that had lit his face back at the swings was gone.

Dark hair was plastered across his forehead with sweat, but the innocence on his face showed that he hadn’t seen Sammie watching him with Carl.

“I had to pee,” she blurted. Atticus made a face, scrunching up his nose as he shoved a too-big bite of sandwich into his mouth.

“Mind if I take a shower first?” he mumbled around the mouthful, which had Sammie scrunching up her own face in an expression identical to his. But her heart was still racing, and even as she nodded at him there were words filling her mouth, pushing out before he turned away.

“I saw you kiss Carl.”

Atticus froze, and those damned tears were back in Sammie’s eyes, threatening to spill over as she waited for him to process her words.

The twins didn’t keep secrets. Neither of them were good at it, never had been. Except that recently Sammie had been keeping a pretty big one. The guilt had been gnawing at her for weeks, mixing with a shame she didn’t know what to do with.

Atticus turned back toward her, a cockiness lighting up his expression that Sammie saw right through. He was smirking, feigned confidence lining his posture, sandwich forgotten in his hand.

“Kinda gross to be spying on people like that,” he shot back at her. “Mind your own business next time.”

The words were harsh, teasing, but there was something in her brother’s blue eyes that she recognized. The same fear, the same confusion that she had seen looking back at her in the mirror so often lately.

Atticus was turning away again, and it was wrong, it was all wrong. She didn’t want him to look at her like that. She didn’t want to be the cause of that fear.

She didn’t want him to feel as alone as she did.

“I like Cassie,” Sammie finally blurted. Those blue eyes that matched her own went wide.

“Cassie Jones?”

Sammie nodded as Atticus stepped fully into her room, shutting the door behind him and leaning back against it.

It had started a month earlier. Cassie’s family moved to Illinois from Georgia just before the end of the school year. She’d sat next to Sammie in several of their classes, and their teachers had asked Sammie to help her out before finals.

The girls had hit it off immediately, fast friends bonding over Sailor Moon and sports. Cassie didn’t play volleyball, but she’d been a softball star back in Atlanta.

After a few weeks spent passing notes and sitting together at lunch, something new had begun to swell inside Sammie.

She couldn’t help but notice how pretty Cassie’s black curls looked when they were loose from the ponytail she wore most days.

How the periwinkle dress she sometimes showed up to school in made her dark brown skin glow.

How her hazel eyes sparkled whenever she got excited about something.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Atticus accused, but there was no real heat in the question. Sammie frowned.

“I just did,” she fired back. “Why didn’t you tell me about Carl?”

The name brought a smile to her brother’s lips, one that had a fist clenching around Sammie’s heart. If even just hearing the other boy’s name made him that kind of happy, then…

“It’s sorta new.” Atticus shrugged, finishing off his sandwich in one more massive bite.“I was gonna tell you soon.”

Sammie nodded. She couldn’t say the same. She’d spent the last several weeks terrified, even if every day she had wanted desperately to let her secret out.

“Are you gay?” Sammie winced at her own question.

“Don’t know,” Atticus said, his gaze falling to his sneakers. “I think I still like girls too.”

Sammie’s mind flashed back to the way her heart had skipped at Kieran’s waved goodbye.

“I think I still like boys too.”

The air seemed to thin out between them, the pressure that had been building since the moment Atticus arrived finally releasing.

“But right now you like Cassie?”

Sammie nodded, pushing Kieran out of her mind, waiting for Atticus to meet her eyes again, silently begging him to look up and see her.

When he did, the tears she had been holding back finally slipped free.

“Wait!” Atticus was across the room in a heartbeat, hands on her shoulders, his grip firm. Strong. “You don’t need to cry about it.”

“I thought I was alone, Attie.”

His expression folded at her words, going soft in a way it only ever did for her. He pulled her against his chest, arms wrapping tight around her shoulders. He’d shot up over the last school year, and even though Sammie was tall for a girl her age, Atticus now stood a head taller than her.

“We’re never alone, Sammie. We’re a package deal.”

She pulled back, swiping at her wet cheeks. Despite the tears, Sammie felt lighter than she had in a good, long while.

“Are you going to tell Granny?”

Atticus chewed on the inside of his cheek, brow furrowed. “I don’t know yet.”

“I’m afraid to.” The confession brought back some of that guilt Sammie had been fighting.

Atticus nodded. She didn’t have to say why she was scared of telling their grandmother.

The bible pushed to the back of her desk drawer was a constant reminder that not everyone would react to her confession the way her brother had.

“I won’t tell her for you,” Atticus said, letting her go. “Our secret is safe, just between us for now.”

Sammie really wasn’t as alone as she’d thought.