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“You know, Thatcher. It’s real cute the way you walk around all high and mighty as if you’re too fucking good to go a few rounds with me. Or maybe it’s because you’re scared. Maybe the rumors about you are full of sh—”
I was up in his face in an instant, chest to chest with him, pure rage flooding my veins. “You want to test that theory?” My brow arched.
Monroe flashed me a knowing smirk. “I knew you had it in you. Just like your old man.” My eyes widened and he chuckled darkly. “Oh, you thought we wouldn’t find out about that? It’s called Google, asshole. And it won’t be long until everyone in school knows exactly what kind of guy your old man is.”
Anger snaked through me like poison, turning my rationality into venom.
Anger at my dad, at Monroe. Anger over the fact that Rixon East had burned down on the most important year of high school. It wasn’t fair that I was held to the same standards as him, but that was life. There was no escaping your name or its history.
Fuck.
“Bet Coach must love having you here. Every time he looks at you he must want to—”
“Mr. Thatcher, Mr. Monroe, I suggest you both get to class,” Principal Kiln yelled. “Now.”
“Yeah, we’re going, sir.” Monroe sneered at me as he walked off down the hall.
“Asshole,” Bryan hissed.
“Yeah.” My chest heaved as I tried to calm the fuck down.
But Jenson Monroe would get what was coming to him. I just had to wait to hit him where it would hurt most.
On the football field.
* * *
The moodat practice was tense. Everyone felt it. Coach spent the entire time scowling as he watched us run drills and work through plays. His scrutiny burned into me from across the field. The stifling anticipation ahead of Friday’s announcement.
“Okay, bring it in,” he eventually yelled after a grueling ninety minutes. Sweat rolled down my back, my jersey damp and dirty. The Raiders defensive players had been brutal today, slamming into me as if we were playing the game of our lives. It didn’t take much to figure out what was going on. I’d seen Monroe smirking, high-fiving them, and cheering them on from the sidelines. He was gunning for me and he’d roped his team in to do his dirty work.
Asshole.
I ripped my helmet off and traipsed over to the huddle.
“Nice work out there. Monroe, nice passing,” Coach said. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into you today, Thatcher, but I suggest you leave your shit at the door tomorrow.”
My spine stiffened. Gav shot me a hard look. His eyes glittering with one message.Don’t. It took everything in me not to argue with Coach, but I wouldn’t be that guy. The guy who cried foul. If Monroe wanted to play dirty, then I’d just have to play dirtier.
“I want you all to know that Friday is decision day. I’ll be posting the starting lineup for the Marshall game. It doesn’t mean those of you who don’t make the cut won’t get game time. But I have to make a decision, and my decision is final.”
A chill went through the air as the Raider players honed in on me and my guys. Aaron and Cole were the only two players who didn’t treat us like we were outcasts. Some of the guys seemed indifferent, but the majority were Monroe’s guys. Their loyalty to their quarterback, to their team, ran deep.
“Understood?” he said.
“Yes, sir.” echoed around me.
“Good, and don’t forget there’s the booster thing at Bell’s after the pep rally. I expect you all to be there.”
“Bell’s?” Bryan asked, and a few of the guys snorted.
“It’s a bar downtown. It’ll be a good chance for you to meet the boosters and break the ice.”
Just what I didn’t need, more ice breaking.
“Okay, hit the showers.”
We padded off the field, filing into the locker room. It had become them and us, with Monroe and his guys taking up most of the benches. They had left us one bench over in the corner of the room, away from the rest of the team.
