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“At least you’ve only got Leigh to worry about. I’ve got three teenage girls living under my roof.”
“How’s she holding up, really?” Hailee asked.
“Peyton is strong,” Fee replied. “But I worry about her. The strongest glass usually shatters the most.”
I glanced over at the door. Maybe I’d been too hard on her earlier. But it wasn’t like I owed her anything. So I pulled her out of the river? I would have done the same for anyone else.
“She’s lucky to have you,” Hailee added. “I can’t even imagine what it must be like to lose your mom so young.” Her eyes found mine, widening with regret. “Shit, Xander, I didn’t—”
“Relax, it’s fine.” I brushed her off. As far as I was concerned, it was ancient history.
I’d been eight when my mom lost her battle with a brain tumor. I barely remembered it. One day she was there, the next she wasn’t. Yet, sometimes I remembered too vividly. Even all these years later, I could smell the cloying scent of the hospital, the monotonous beep of the machines keeping her alive. It was a mind fuck.
“I’m going for a smoke.” Not sticking around to hear my brother’s grunt of disapproval, I ducked outside and lit up another cigarette. I didn’t even like the disgusting things, but it focused me. Kept me from turning to other vices.
I sucked on the end, inhaling so deeply that my lungs burned, then let the smoke trail out of the split in my mouth.
What I really wanted was a bottle of Jack and my couch. I rented a small place downtown, a couple of blocks over from Bell’s, the local bar we liked to frequent. I liked it because it had a great view of the river, and I often ventured down there on the nights when sleep didn’t find me.
That’s how I’d stumbled across Peyton that night. I liked to be outside, in the dark when no one else was around. There was something settling about that time between twilight and dawn when the rest of the world slept.
Sometimes I passed the odd jogger or dog walker, but usually I had the stretch of sidewalk along the Susquehanna River to myself.
My brother’s gruff laughter pierced the air, and I shook the thoughts out of my head. I wasn’t trying to be a hero that night, I did what any half-decent person would have done. But I’d seen the way she looked at me earlier… with fucking stars in her eyes.
I wasn’t looking to be anyone’s white knight though.
Especially not hers.
* * *
The next morning,I rolled up to the school in my beat-up Chevy pickup. It looked like a piece of crap, but it ran like a dream thanks to the hours I spent fine tuning her. A group of girls looked over as I pulled into a parking spot, nudging each other and giggling. My arrival at Rixon High had caused quite the stir which is why I tried to keep to myself.
Grabbing my bag off the back seat, I put a Raiders ball cap on backwards and climbed out. It was cold as shit out, my lungs smarting when I inhaled a deep breath.
“Yo, Coach,” a voice called, and I turned around to find Kaiden Thatcher jogging toward me.
“What’s up, kid?”
“I was wondering if we can go over some plays again? I want to be ready for the next game.”
“You’re ready, Thatch.” Slinging my bag over one shoulder, we walked toward the gym together.
“Yeah, maybe. It’s just a lot… you know?”
I glanced over at him. Kaiden hadn’t had it easy, transferring to Rixon High in senior year. He was at a new school, commanding a new team, but he’d done it. The kid had beaten the odds to lead the Raiders straight into the playoffs. And he’d done it while his family imploded. His dad was a real piece of shit. A drunk with an old grudge against Jase. He was back in rehab but not before he’d knocked Kaiden around. The whole thing was a shitshow.
I knew better than most that life was hard. It was messy and painful and sometimes it was too fucking much, but I couldn’t ever imagine lashing out at the ones who were there for me. That shit was messed up.
“Word of advice,” I said. “Enjoy it. You’ve worked your ass off to get here. It’s senior year. You have a full-ride in the bag and your future is all mapped out. Whatever happens in the quarter-finals is just the icing on the cake.”
The bitter sting of regret snaked through me. I remembered my brother saying something similar to me once, when I was just a senior in high school. Before everything turned to shit.
“Try telling that to Coach Ford and the rest of the town,” he murmured.
He wasn’t wrong there. Football was life in Rixon. People didn’t just like it, they lived and breathed it. And the pressure was on the team to bring home the championship again.
“Yeah, I won’t argue there, kid.”
