Page 35 of Campus Heat

“Should I have?” I asked numbly.

Jenna shook her head and shoved her cell into my hand. “Look.”

The screen lit up with a meme. It was a slow-motion screenshot of Ethan getting hit just after release. His body was twisted mid-impact, and the ball was still in the frame.

Someone captioned it, “When you carry the whole team but forget to carry the ball.”

A wave of heat rushed over my cheeks, and I swallowed hard. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Did someone really go that far just to humiliate the guys? Was that what caused the outburst? Jenna swiped and things only got worse.

It was a still of the defense missing a tackle. And the caption read, “Sponsored by Swiss Cheese.”

She swiped again, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I saw a poll.

Is Ozzy Harris:

A basketball coach in the wrong building.

A social experiment.

Fired by Thanksgiving.

The post had over eight hundred likes, and sadly, most of the people voted C. It felt like my heart was going to crumble, but then Jenna swiped again. I closed my eyes, not knowing how much more I could take.

It was a video edit of Ethan’s interception. The editor cut it at the worst moment, and it replayed on a loop. And to make matters worse, it had circus music layered over it. The commenters on this one went overboard.

“QB thinks he’s the man,” one person said.

“The transfer portal must look real tempting at this point,” another added.

“Bench Rose and let someone who knows how to play in a team try.”

Jenna tried to swipe again, but I grabbed her wrist and returned the phone.

Why is this happening?” I asked softly.

“It’s called @HighlanderDisasterClass,” Jenna said as she took in the surrounding riot. “The page launched last night and already has eight hundred followers. It’s climbing by the minute.”

I felt something ignite beneath my ribs, but I wasn’t sure if it was a fire fueled by rage, or a crush caused by the devastating impact this had. Yet none of that mattered because Ethan invaded my mind. I knew how personally he took every loss and how much he beat himself up because of them. He was probably doing it already. I had seen the way he avoided me after the game and how his shoulders tensed during his interview with Penny.

This must’ve been eating him up. It wasn’t just a couple of silly photos like Lucas did with his prank. This was a public execution of epic proportions.

“I need to find him,” I mumbled.

Jenna caught my arm. “El, wait…”

But I quickly pulled out of her grasp and kept moving. My gaze moved between classes as if I were looking for a missing person. I stormed through the business building, but there was no sign of him. Then I went to the library, but our study spot was empty. I went to the student center next, and laughter and flashing phone screens met me.

Every single time someone snickered near me, my skin crawled, but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I had to keep my focus on Ethan because if I didn’t, I would end up doing something I’d regret.

By the time I reached the field, the day was ending. The air felt heavier. Practice was underway, and the bleachers were full. They weren’t completely packed, but they held enough people to make an impact. There was a cluster of students who lounged across three rows. And every single one of them had a phone pointed at the field. The guys’ every move came with some form of commentary, and exaggerated groans met every incomplete pass.

“Rose! That guy is wearing the same color as you!” one of them shouted.

“Coach! It’s time to return to the court! Basketball practice has started!” someone else added.

One of them even got a printed, blown-up still of Ethan mid-interception. And he taped it to a cardboard sign that said, “No ‘I’ in team! But there is one in interception!”

Their laughter cut deeper than a sharp blade. I stopped at the base of the bleachers and watched Ethan take the snap. There was a quick drop and a throw over the middle. It was slightly high, but Lucas adjusted. Unfortunately, the ball tipped off his fingertips and fell incomplete. Naturally, the bleachers erupted.