Girls with Curls: Walsh Warriors, #4

By April Kerner

"If ever I needed evidence of my social fall from grace at Walsh, this moment right here would be proof."

Vic Bradford used to have it all. The beautiful girlfriend. The social life. A starting position on the Warriors basketball team.

But life was far from ideal, and then his picture-perfect life shattered. A fall so spectacular no one expects him to recover.

Naomi Berger knows exactly what she wants. Working hard to achieve her goals has never been an issue.  There is a comfort in having a plan, a list to work through.

Who needs a social life anyway?

When she finds herself abandoned by her friend group for the obligatory senior project, Naomi begins questioning the choices she's made. Especially her no dating policy after spending more and more time with Vic Bradford.

• Language: English
• Publisher: April Kerner
• Release date: Feb 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9783039620302

Book preview

Chapter One

Vic

I check the time on my phone and shake my head. A full minute hasn’t even gone by since I last looked. I take a seat on the cold bench facing the basketball courts at the rec fields. My leg begins jittering as nervous energy fills my veins.

Man, I want to get this shit over with!

I look out at the empty court, the lights from overhead throwing a warm halo glow over the backboard and free throw line. I should feel… I don’t know, something—sad, I guess—but the emotion never comes. All I feel is relief, knowing I’ll never have to pick up a basketball again. Which is kinda fucked up if I think about it.

I didn’t think you’d actually show, I hear grumbled behind me.

My teeth clench at the sound of his voice. And yet I’m not at all surprised you decided to join us, I respond, looking over my shoulder at the two figures walking my way.

Nate Palmer is wearing a navy beanie and dark gray peacoat with the collar turned up to brace himself from the cold. He looks leaner and meaner than the last time I saw him, then again, that’s what happens when you go to two-a-day practices during the basketball season.

They have a real chance of going all the way this year. Again, something I should have a reaction to, but I can’t even be bothered to be jealous.

There is a peace that comes at not having to fake it anymore.

Next to Nate is Penelope Pen Brooks, holding on to her boyfriend’s hand like a lifeline. Pen looks like she’d rather be anywhere else but here, but still she came, testament to a core of strength I hadn’t really seen in her until recently.

I watch her shiver in her cream winter jacket, and I wince. I shouldn’t have asked her to meet me outside at the end of November. I wasn’t thinking about the weather when I set this up, only my need for it to be a neutral place.

I’ll make this quick so you can get inside and out of the cold.

Pen looks at me for the first time since the two of them walked up, and I’m struck by her beauty. Anyone who says hazel eyes are boring hasn’t taken a good hard look at Pen Brooks.

I close my eyes for a second, trying to collect my scattered thoughts. Knowing that I’ve caused this girl harm has my stomach tying in a knot.

Man, this sucks.

I’m sorry that my lie hurt you. I watch her eyes go round in surprise before I continue. More than that, I’m sorry I added to an already miserable situation for you. It wasn’t anything personal, I just latched on to the rumor because it was convenient. Nate’s whole body has drawn tight, and I watch as his free hand fists at his side. You didn’t deserve anything that happened to you, and… well, there are many things I wish I could get a do-over on, but my placing a target more firmly on your back sophomore year? I shake my head. "I really am freaking sorry, Pen."

Pen steps away from Nate and takes a seat next to me on the bench. I would normally smirk at the scowl on Palmer’s face, but I don’t have it in me to be a full asshole at the moment. This is too important.

I accept your apology, Pen softly states. I don’t know why you told Merrin we hooked up, but you weren’t the only one using my name in a breakup. Pen pauses, and turns her face towards me before continuing, But what I don’t get is why the two of you got back together. I mean, she had to believe there was some truth to the ‘you and I’ theory. If she hadn’t bought in to the whole ‘Pen’s a slut who breaks couples up’ narrative, why would she have involved herself in the whole bathroom incident?

Nate’s whole body radiates rage at his girlfriend’s mention of her brutal beatdown in a campus bathroom our sophomore year. My ex-girlfriend was one of the main bullies and took an activate part in Pen’s ending up in the hospital.

The knot in my stomach tightens.

What can I say? I couldn’t have known what was going to happen, but… I knew Merrin was unstable, which makes me partially responsible for what happened. Right?

I could defend myself and tell her that Merrin has too many issues to catalog. Personally, I think she might be a sociopath, but what do I know? I only spent the last six years being manipulated by her and having to deal with her violent outbursts.

I rub my hands down my thighs, relieving the moisture that’s built up on my palms. I have no idea what Merrin thought about anything, really. She kept her motivations to herself. What I can say—and fuck, I get that it isn’t enough, it’ll never be enough—is I would take it all back if I could. My hands grip my legs in frustration. I didn’t even know what went down our sophomore year until recently. I swallow the bile that moves up my throat when I think on the details. It’s my fault you suffered Merrin’s jealousy-fueled rage, and I—

"You say that, but you’ve been hooking up with her best friend Mindy for who knows how long, and Merrin no doubt sensing something, of course placed all her suspicions on me. You were ready and willing to put the target back on me," Pen states, releasing a frustrated huff.

Anger builds in my chest at her words, and my jaw tightens to keep a retort back.

"Out of everyone at Walsh, you should know better than anyone things aren’t always the way people report them to be, I get out between clenched teeth. Palmer steps closer to me, ready to defend his girlfriend from my ire, but I wave him off. I wanted to meet up with you to apologize for the hurt my actions caused. I’m not here to rehash the whole ‘Bradford is an asshole’ line. I know who I am and what I need to answer for. I pat my chest. I’m taking ownership, but I refuse to carry shit that isn’t mine to carry."

Pen’s face makes a comical oh face. "You’re right, I shouldn’t speak like an authority on something I can only speculate about. But you get it, right? She thought you were up to whatever, and assumed the whatever was with me."

I don’t have anything more to say about any of this, so I nod in acceptance of her hypothesis stated as fact.

Awkward silence grows as Pen realizes she isn’t going to get any more of a response from me.

We should get going, Nate says, reaching a hand out to his girlfriend to help her up.

Pen springs up into Palmer’s waiting arms and I can’t stop the disgust I feel as envy unfurls in my chest at the sight of their easy affection.

Dillon Grant told me how you reached out to him, to make amends. Palmer pins me with an unnerving stare. "Gotta say, man, I thought I had you figured out. Don’t know what’s brought on this apology tour you got going on, but I’m not buying it. I still think you’re a selfish prick."

I give him my classic asshole smirk. Agreed.

Acknowledging my failings, asking for forgiveness for wrongs, doesn’t magically make me a good guy.

Not even sure if that’s possible anymore.

My skin tingles as I experience Pen’s full focus, her head tilting to the side like I’m some problem she’s looking to answer.

I remain seated as the happy couple leave for Pen’s Jeep. I stay there, letting the cold numb my frustrated anger.

Looking up into the starry night, I bite back the scream I want to unleash.

I don’t want to be this guy, but I’ve been playing the role of the asshole so well, for so long, I don’t know where the lines are anymore.

Palmer’s right. Doesn’t matter how many people I try to make amends with. Sorry isn’t hard to say if you really feel it, which I do, in spades. What’s difficult is backing my remorse up with changed behavior. Stepping away from the part I was assigned, and willingly accepted.

I wasn’t always this angry, this dickish. There was a time pre-Merrin, where I had hopes and dreams of my own. I was active in sports and activities I chose, ones I took genuine pleasure in.

Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I was happy. My eyes close at the realization.

The faint memory of fireworks on a different night teases me, until I open my eyes to head home.

Chapter Two

Naomi

I take a long sip through the paper straw of my mojitade, enjoying the soothing taste of lemon and mint. This right here, is hands down one of the best perks of working weekends at Owen’s Oven, Baked Breads & Bagels. Free drinks during my shift, and a box of six bagels to take home with me at the end of each workday. Mom and Dad love helping themselves to the perks of their daughter’s labor. I mean, who would turn down a free bagel from the best place to get them in all of Grady Springs?

Owen’s take on agua de Jamaica is still my absolute favorite, but the mojitade is a close contender, I think to myself as I have a little more. I’m wiping down the prep space next to the espresso machine when I hear the distinctive ring of the bell over the front door.

I’ll be right with you, I say over my shoulder, as I check my smart watch for the time. There’s only ten minutes until closing, so hopefully, whoever this is will make it quick so I can get out of here on time.

Thinking about the bibliography for a group project I need to work on when I get home, I turn around and freeze when I see the face of the customer.

Erwin Cederholm.

I do my best to keep my face neutral when I look into his dull blue eyes. Hi, I say, forcing a cheeriness I’m not really feeling into my voice. What can I get you, Erwin?

He shifts back on his feet and smiles. Hello, Naomi. I’m not really interested in eating. I’d rather have an answer to my question?

This can’t be happening.

I look to my right, and sigh in relief that my manager, Steve, has come out from the back to start cleaning the few tables we have in the shop. Steve nods to me, and I don’t know if it’s because he can pick up on the tension rolling off me in waves or what, but he asks, Do you want me to handle this one, Naomi?

Erwin’s typical ruddy cheeks darken as he gives the twenty-five-year-old manager the stink eye.

Thanks, Steve, but I got this. I look Erwin in the eyes and choose my words carefully, not wanting to be mean, but needing him to respect my boundaries. Erwin, I’ve already given you an answer. I don’t date.

But—

I put my hand up to stop him. Erwin, please stop. I’ve reiterated my position on this topic to you four times since the beginning of the semester. I’m not going to change my mind, and frankly, your inability to accept my answer is making me uncomfortable to be around you.

Erwin grabs at the hair on top of his head, the thin, light-brown hair now pushed into several different directions. It’s dinner, Naomi. Not a proposal. His eyes narrow on me, and a shiver goes up my spine at the fury I see burning bright.

I fist my hand, digging my