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“Damn it!” Coach shouts while stomping his foot. He resumes his pacing back and forth, reminding me of a lion locked in a very small cage.
I watch the players push up from the ground and Brody slowly rise, swiping the dirt and grass from his uniform before stumbling back to his position on the line. Brody’s short, stocky frame slowly morphs into Rachel’s dainty form, and I groan, trying to shake her out of my head. I’m here to watch football and root for my team, not obsess about my girl like a lovesick puppy. She wants Alex.
And you,a small voice whispers in the back of my head.She still loves you.
I try to focus on Brody, but my gaze moves upwards to the crowd, searching once more for my bros and my girl. It’s stupid, I know. I’ll never find them, but I need some sort of sign— something to tell me that this day isn’t for nothing; that I’m not wasting my life here, waiting for a chance to play. That I’m not wasting my time with Rachel.
My gaze widens as they land on a sign in the fifth row of the bleachers reading:Go Hunter!The letters are written in purple and black with glitter bedazzling them. The sign is being held up by Rachel, who is standing on the bleachers with Lucas at her side. Her mouth is open, shouting something, but she’s too far away to hear, and I’m unable to make out the words.
Despite still being angry at her, I feel my lips twitching upwards.No,I tell myself.You’re not going to forgive her. Not yet.
But soon.
No matter how she feels about Alex, she still loves you.
The crowd groans and the cheering stops. I follow everyone’s gazes, finding Brody face down in the mud, not getting up. Rising from the bench, I step forward, my eyes widening when several paramedics run out onto the field. They pick up his limp body, turning him around and smacking his cheek. I run towards him, joining my teammates as everyone gathers around him.
“Foster!” Coach shouts. “Wake up!”
Brody moans and I release the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.The asshole is okay.As much as I dislike the guy, I don’t want him to die or get seriously injured. He’s still part of the team.
“Can he play?” Coach asks as the medics help Brody up.
Brody stumbles in their grasp. Blood runs down the side of his face while his head lulls from side to side.
One of the medics shakes his head. “We need to get him to the hospital. There’s no way he can play right now.”
I watch Coach. He doesn’t say anything as Brody is walked off the field. His shoulders slump as he turns to face me, his eyes narrowing on me. “Alright, Hunter,” he says slowly. “This is your one and only chance to impress me. Don’t fuck it up.”
My body stills. “Huh?”
Coach scowls. “Don’t make me say it again. Get your helmet and get your ass on the field. We’ve got a game to win.”
I run towards the bench, a smile breaking on my face. This will be my first game of the year, and I feel both excited and nervous. I’m going to give it all I have. I’m going to show Coach he can rely on me.
Donning my helmet, I turn around, finding Rachel in the crowd, waving her sign. My heart slams in my throat as I think of her in my arms, as I think of her cheering for me.
I’m going to win this.
19
RACHEL
LucasandIwaitoutside the locker room for Hunter. Each time the door swings open, I hold up my sign, only to see not Hunter coming out. I shuffle nervously from foot to foot, worried he won’t be happy with me waiting for him, ready to pounce. It’s been too long since we last spoke, and I hate this tension.
I glance at Lucas, and he gives me a reassuring nod. “He’ll come. Don’t worry. He’s probably still speaking with his coach.”
Yeah, that must be it. I know he’s been having some trouble with the team. Earlier, I noticed he had stains on his jersey. I assumed it was just some mud from being tackled, but then I saw some red, which made me concerned until I realized it was too bright to be blood. There was also some yellow tinge. Hunter isn’t the type to eat in his uniform. Maybe he was in such a rush to get out of our apartment that he picked up some food from one of the hotdog or hamburger stands.
Things at our apartment have been absolutely unbearable, and after I speak with Hunter, I plan on having it out with Seth.That guy. I stifle the need to groan and scowl at the door. He’s been purposefully leaving things around the house, trying to get a rise out of me. At first, I thought I could handle it. A few shoes lying around the house here and there is nothing to complain about. But, as the days went by, Seth started pushing things to the next level: leaving dirty dishes in the sink, his underwear in the bathroom. It wasn’t until I found skid marks on the bathroom toilet that I finally decided to put my foot down.
No more.
Why can’t Seth convey his anger through words? I can’t take this passive aggression any longer. He even refused to join us today by locking his door in response to my invitation. If he’s going to act like a child, then I’m going to treat him like one.
Will that solve anything, though?
And what about Alex?
