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I lazily make my way off the field while they get into formation. Meeting Coach on the sideline, I stand beside him with arms crossed tightly over my chest as the first play begins.
“You’re almost there, Rome,” Coach assures me, reading the pitiful expression on my face.
“Yeah,” I respond softly. “Almost.”
I haven’t asked Coach what happens when I return. When I watch Wilder out there, I feel a pang of guilt that I’ll be taking the spotlight away from him when he just got it. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him happier than he is when he’s out there making passes.
That’s my position, though. It’s my team, too. In a couple weeks, Wilder is going to feel what I felt when the game was ripped away from me. He’ll still get to play, though. So it’s not all that bad.
The first two quarters go by quickly without incident and we’re up 28-7. There were a few moments when I found myself smiling as Wilder dominated the field. His passes were powerful, his footwork swift. There's no doubt he was meant for this position. My brother’s a good guy—a great guy. He deserves this. I just wish I did, too.
Halftime rolls around and I find myself not caring about the game or what I’m missing for once. The stadium comes alive with energy as we hold the lead. But that's not what I'm focused on. It's the dozen cheerleaders surrounding me that have my attention.
Wilder might have stolen the field and most of the school's attention tonight, but these girls have always been mine. It’s how I’ve controlled the school for so long—that and the secrets I collect from students.
Ana’s father donates lots of money to the school and hates when she’s upset, so if I ever need anything, she knows how to work her father’s magic.
Abby is the resident mean girl, so if I need girls to fall in line, she is my go-to.
Brogan is new to the squad, but I'm sure she will fall in line like the rest of them. Maybe I can even use her against her sister if Elodie won't do as she's fucking told.
“We’re so sad you’re not out there, Rome,” Ana pouts. “You’re the true MVP.”
“You sure are,” Abby says, slithering up to me. Her arms bracket my neck and her fingers intertwine behind my head. “You know where else you're the true MVP?” I peer down at her, eyebrow cocked, and she whispers with hot breath on my ear, “Between my legs.”
“All right, Rome.” The cheer coach scoffs. “Back to your team. You’re distracting my girls.”
Abby frowns before kissing my cheek. “I’ll see you at the party tonight, lover.”
Fuck me. I should’ve known this girl would get too attached if I didn’t just keep things to a one-night hookup. In my defense, she can suck dick like it’s nobody's business.
Her hands drop and I walk away with a semi in my pants. I wiggle my pelvis trying to adjust myself without being obvious because just the thought of that mouth does things to me. But the idea of being attached to Abby makes me want to gag.
The game continues, and when we’re down to the last minute, it’s all tied up.
We have a first down with thirty seconds to go.
This is getting intense. I’m watching with trained focus, my heart fucking pounding.
Then, Luke fumbles the ball.
I stomp my foot to the ground, my nerves shot. “Damn it. Come on, boys!”
Fifteen seconds left.
My fingers draw around my mouth and I hold my breath on the next pass while the announcer screams in our ears.
“Misfits’ Wilder Cromwell takes the snap from Carver and hurls the ball to receiver Luke Aarons. It wasn’t long ago that Wilder was catching those passes from his brother, Rome Cromwell. Those boys sure have some fire in their arms.” I grit my teeth, not even able to look at the field right now, or anyone for that matter. “What a pass! And Aarons has got it! He’s going…and he’s in!” the announcer roars. “Marking another victorious touchdown. And the Misfits win the game.”
The stands go wild, but my ears pick out a distinct voice in the roaring crowd.
I spin around, looking in the bleachers, and I see Elodie. Her hands are in the air and she’s jumping up and down along with everyone else, celebrating the Misfits’ win. Her eyes are on the cheerleaders, mainly Brogan. To her left are Brady Newton and some chick whose name I don’t remember, though I’m almost positive I’ve had a past encounter with her. No surprise there. On her right are my dad, Celia, and Sayer. Callan’s likely in the student section with the junior varsity team.
Elodie and I lock eyes as she cups her hands around her mouth and screams, “Way to go, Wilder!”
Something snaps inside me.
She’s staring right fucking at me, as if she was intentionally trying to hurt me with her words. Little does she know, it doesn’t hurt. It only feeds the brewing storm inside me. It solidifies that everything I am doing is justified. She’s an evil fucking bitch who’s going to get exactly what she deserves.
