The Keeping Score Box Set

  The Keeping Score Box Set

  Copyright © 2017 by Tawdra Kandle

  Cover Design: Meg Murrey

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  Young

  Copyright © 2018 by Tawdra Kandle

  When We Were Us

  Copyright © 2016 by Tawdra Kandle

  Hanging by a Moment

  Copyright © 2016 by Tawdra Kandle

  Days of You and Me

  Copyright © 2016 by Tawdra Kandle

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Young

  A Note from the Author

  The Trio Preludes/Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Preludes to Not Broken Anymore

  Preludes to Your Wildest Dreams

  Preludes to Sway

  When We Were Us

  Synopsis

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Hanging by a Moment

  Synopsis

  Dedication

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Hanging By A Moment Play List

  Days of You and Me

  Dedication

  Synopsis

  PART 1

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  PART II

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Days of You and Me Play List

  Fourth and Long

  Other Books

  About the Author

  A Note from the Author

  Writing a book can be a tricky business. Sometimes, as the author, I know much more about the characters and their past, present and future than you, as the reader, need to know. Still, I’m passionate about sharing well-rounded, developed characters, so I usually try to err on the side of sharing more rather than less.

  That was the case with the Keeping Score series, particularly with Leo, Quinn and Nate’s story. How they came to be who they are by the time they reach high school seemed very important to me—and it is. The things that happen early in their lives impact and influence the choices they make later in life.

  But if you are a new reader to me and you picked up When We Were Us in its original form, you might have been put off that it began when the trio was in fifth grade. The fact that most of the book takes place in high school is even slightly problematic, from a genre perspective—is this young adult or new adult?—so starting back in elementary school complicated that further.

  That’s why I made the decision this year to pull the original start of When We Were Us and instead to begin their story in junior year of high school. Although I was resistant, I will admit that it makes the book tighter and more cohesive. It was a good move.

  However, I didn’t want to simply discard the first eight chapters, the ones that give us the background. I wanted my readers to be able to have access to that information, even if it wasn’t crucial to the overall story.

  That’s why this book, Young, was born. Here, you’ll find that original beginning.

  However, since I’d gone to the trouble of creating a new book, I thought it needed something more. So I also wrote some new material: prelude chapters for Gia, Tate and Matt from Not Broken Anymore, for Zelda and Tuck from Your Wildest Dreams and for Sarah and Gideon from Sway.

  These chapters don’t necessarily contain spoilers for the later books, though you might be able to surmise some plot points from a few bits of dialogue. Still, for the most part, the preludes tell you more about the characters themselves, not about what’s going to happen to them.

  I enjoyed writing these preludes, because some of the side characters haven’t had their own voice yet—and one won’t. It was wonderful for me to give them some more background and to further explain incidents that are mentioned within the context of the Keeping Score main books.

  This prequel takes its title from Kenny Chesney’s song Young.

  I hope you’ll enjoy them. If you haven’t read the Keeping Score books yet (When We Were Us, Hanging By A Moment, Days of You and Me, Not Broken Anymore, Your Wildest Dreams and Sway), I hope this inspires you to read them next. If you have read all of these (that are currently released!), I hope this gives you more insight into your favorite characters.

  We were brave, we were crazy, we were mostly young . . .

  THE TRIO PRELUDES

  Present Day

  “Are you nervous?” Morgan Baxter, the savvy and knowledgeable woman who handled promotion and publicity for the Richmond Rebels, tilted her head as she sat down in the tufted chair behind her desk. “About this?”

  I sighed, slumping a bit in my own seat on the other side of the desk. “I know. It’s crazy, isn’t it? I’m a journalist, and I’ve been working all different angles of sports reporting for a couple of years now. But what I’m doing today is different.” I swallowed. “What I’m talking about today isn’t really football. It’s . . . something else entirely.”

  Morgan nodded. “It’s personal. It’s not a story about an athlete. It’s your own story, yours and Leo’s . . .”

  “And Nate’s,” I finished her sentence. “Yes, that’s it. The responsibility is enormous.”

  “But who better to tell the tale? You were there. You lived it.” She shrugged. “The world wants to know more about the famous Leo Taylor. They’re hungry for all the details. As we discussed, this is our way of controlling the narrative. You’ll get out in front of the mome
ntum, and you won’t have to worry about rumors and lies.”

  “I know all that is true. But the idea of being interviewed for a story that’s going to air on the largest television sports network—” I blew out a long breath. “You can’t blame me for having some butterflies.”

  “Quinn, they’re going to love you. The world is going to love you.” Morgan smiled. “Trust me. You have the kind of appeal that every professional football player would love to have in his corner.” She glanced at her phone. “They’re ready for us. Shall we go?”

  I stood up, hoping no one noticed the slight wobble in my legs. “If we don’t go now, I’ll probably chicken out. Lead the way.”

  The studio had sent over all the equipment they needed to tape the interview. Doing it here, at the Rebels’ facility, had been one of my non-negotiables when Morgan had set this up. I didn’t want to leave Virginia just now, and the Rebels had become like a family to me. I felt safe and at home in the offices and training rooms.

  “Quinn.” The woman who greeted me was perfectly coiffed, not a hair out of place. “Thanks so much for doing this. We’re going to have a good time today.”

  “Are we?” I didn’t mean the question to sound so dubious, but the interviewer must’ve assumed I was trying to be amusing. She chuckled and pointed to the two chairs that were set apart under massive lights.

  “We’re right over here. Now, this is a taping, of course, so we’ll edit it back at the studio. If at any time you need a break, just let me know, and we’ll pause.” She waited as one of the assistants fastened a tiny mic to the neckline of my dress. “I realize that some of what we talk about today could be . . . difficult. Painful. So we’ll take as much time as you need to get through it.”

  I noticed without much surprise that she wasn’t promising to avoid the painful areas. But that was what I’d signed up for, wasn’t it—exposing the past, exposing us, to the harsh and glaring light of the publicity machine.

  Within moments, the cameras were rolling, and the interviewer was introducing me, talking about my past and more importantly, my connection with the famous Leo Taylor.

  “Now, most people are aware that you and Leo have known each other for a while, but many don’t realize just how long you’ve been . . . friends.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice as she framed her first question.

  “Quinn, tell us about the trio.”

  I knew fifth grade was going to be different the minute I stepped onto the playground that first day.

  In our town, there were two huge elementary schools. The kids went to Marian Johnson Primary School from pre-K through fourth grade and then moved onto Herbert Andrews Elementary from fifth through seventh grade. It was cool to change schools, I guessed, but in a way, it meant we all started over three times before we graduated from high school, because there was also a junior high. We went from being the big men on campus back to the bottom of the barrel three times.

  So when I stepped onto the newly-resurfaced asphalt at Herbert Andrews—everyone called it the HA school—I had to admit, I was a little nervous. At MJ Primary, I was a pretty popular kid. At least I had a lot of friends, and the teachers liked me. I didn’t know how it happened, but I was able to get good grades and not be labeled as some kind of dork. I think it was mostly because we hadn’t gotten to the point of labeling each other. We’d all been together since kindergarten—or pre-K, for some of us—and there was a kind of sweet acceptance that was doomed to end.

  I saw it slipping away almost immediately on the first day of fifth grade. I was still standing on the edge of the playground, kind of taking everything in, when I noticed a cluster of kids over to my left, standing just beyond the swings. They weren’t just hanging out; I saw a few glancing carefully over their shoulders, watching out for teachers or other adults just the same way my dog looked when he was getting into the trash.

  I was curious, and I wandered over that way. I recognized a couple of classmates from fourth grade. But as I got closer, my heart sank. In the middle of the crowd, looking more confused and frightened than I’d ever seen him, was Nate.

  Nate had always been smaller than me. His arms were thin and gangly, and his face had a pointed look that had been cute during kindergarten but now only had the effect of making him seem hunted. His hunched shoulders made it worse.

  He was surrounded by five boys who all towered at least two heads above him. They were grinning, but not in a ‘hey, let’s all go play ball’ way. I saw one of them reach out and shove against Nate’s shoulder. Always just a little unsteady, he teetered for a moment, but to my relief, kept to his feet.

  I was close enough now to hear their voices, the jeering. And for a minute, less time than it took me to realize I was thinking it, I was tempted to just turn around. Turn my back and pretend that I hadn’t seen it, hadn’t seen Nate in the middle of that mess.

  I wouldn’t have done it. I was really sure about that. But before I could prove it—to myself or anyone else, I guess—a blue tornado streaked past me.

  “Hey! Get away from him. What are you doing?” Her voice ringing with the righteous indignation of the young, Quinn pushed through the little knot of boys and stood in front of Nate. With hands on her hips and curly brown hair flying in every direction, she stood only a little taller than Nate, but she stared up at the boys with fury and challenge.

  The biggest of them looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. “Leave it alone. Go back and play with the little girls. We’re just welcoming our new buddy to HA.”

  “You’re all bullies.” Quinn always did cut right to the chase. “You’re mean, and you’re stupid and you want to hurt Nate just because he’s different from you. Go away. Leave him alone, or I’ll go get a teacher.”

  I held my breath, waiting to see what the boys would do. I saw them exchange glances, and then the leader shrugged. “Whatever. You’re not going to be around all the time. We’ll catch up with him later.” Turning, he stalked off, pushing through the swings and sending them flying.

  The other boys melted off, leaving Quinn and Nate standing together, alone. I stalked over, ready to yell at Quinn for getting in the middle of that, when she turned and spotted me.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded. “Didn’t you see what was happening? They were going to hurt Nate!”

  “I—I was—” I looked at Nate, my eyes pleading for some back up, but he was just staring off into the distance, beyond Quinn, beyond me.

  “I was heading over here,” I finished lamely.

  “Yeah, by the time you got here, they would have pushed him down and gotten in some good punches. What were you waiting for?”

  “I don’t know.” I pushed a hand through the hair my mom had so carefully combed an hour ago. “It just happened so fast. I saw it was Nate, and then before I could even get in there, you ran past me.”

  “It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. They were big kids, picking on someone smaller. You should have stopped them no matter who it was. But then when you saw it was your friend—” Quinn glared at me meaningfully. “Your best friend since before you were born, you should have run to stop them.” Like I did. She didn’t say it, but I could read it loud and clear in her eyes.

  “Nate.” I could see I wasn’t going to get anywhere with Quinn, so I turned to the small boy hunched between us. “What happened? Why were they ganged up on you?”

  He shrugged, still not meeting our eyes. “Mom dropped me off early,” he finally answered, softly. “I asked her to. I thought I could get in here and look around, be ready when you guys got here. I was just sitting on the bars over there.” He jerked his chin toward the rainbow climber, now covered with kids. “But then I saw there was an empty swing, and I thought I would grab it for Quinn.” At last he looked up at her. “I know you like to swing.”

  Quinn sighed, the merest breath. “I do like to swing. Thanks for thinking of me, Nate.”

  He nodded and continued. “I was just trying to get acr
oss the playground to them, and then this one kid grabbed me, and the next thing I knew, they were all standing around.” He swung his eyes up to me. “Matt was there, too. Did you see that, Leo?”

  I sighed, but I didn’t say anything. Matt Lampert had been in our class last year, and he had hung around with Nate and me. I would’ve said we were friends. I hadn’t seen him over the summer, but that wasn’t unusual; his family lived on the other side of town and belonged to the community pool, which was where he spent most of his days between school years.

  “Why do kids act like that?” Quinn stomped her foot against the concrete and winced. I tried to hide a smile, but she looked at me and rolled her eyes. She had a tendency to strike out physically, forgetting that hitting hard surfaces hurt.

  “They’re just . . . I don’t know. Stupid, like you said, I guess.” Nate still seemed far away, and I gave him a light punch on the shoulder to get his attention. He turned his bright blue eyes to me, and I flinched at the pain there.

  “You okay, Nate?” Quinn stole my line and laid a tentative hand on his arm. To my surprise, he shrugged it off. I hadn’t ever seen Nate rebuff Quinn’s affection—not ever.

  “You shouldn’t have gotten in the middle of it,” he said in a low voice. “Now it’s only going to be worse. They’re going to think I’m a wimp, that I have to count on a girl to protect me.”

  Quinn raised her eyes to mine. She was surprised and not a little hurt. “I’m sorry, Nate. I thought. . .I didn’t want you to get hurt.” She bit her lip and added, “I know if it had been me they were picking on, you would have stopped it.”

  “That’s different. I’m a boy. I’m supposed to do the defending.”

  Quinn stepped back, looking even more lost. “Since when does that matter? I thought friends stuck up for each other, no matter what.”

  “We’re not babies anymore, Quinn,” Nate said, more gently. Whatever angst he had been dealing with was passing, and he looked more himself. “I can take care of myself.” He hesitated and then added, “Besides, if it had been Leo in the middle of those boys, would you have run to save him?”