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“She’s been,” she hesitates. I grip my phone tighter as I wait for her to finish her thought, hating myself for how desperate I am to hear something about her. “Weird,” she finally finishes. My chest constricts, and I can’t figure out why. “Distant, maybe?” She pushes her coiled curl off her face and huffs in frustration. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her natural hair. She usually prefers to have it in braids or twists with how long she keeps it. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone more emotionally attached to their hair than my twin is.
I run my hands over the springy texture of my own hair. I can’t imagine having to spend as much time on my hair as she does. Keeping it this length and styled is hard enough. Something that Brielle always used to enjoy helping me with.
“Are you even listening to me?” she demands.
I give her a sheepish look. And she curses me out, making me smile. Fuck. I’d never admit it to her but I really do miss her.
“Please try talking to her,” she begs. My smile drops off my face as I am reminded exactly why we couldn’t have her here.
“She doesn’t want to talk to us, V.”
She groans in irritation. “I know my best friend. Something isn’t right.” I quickly smother the ray of hope that her words light in my heart. She doesn’t understand. Hasn’t seen the way she looks at us with fear in her eyes now. The way disgust and anger lines her features every time she’s around us. Hasn’t seen the way she hangs all over Carson in public. My sister wouldn’t recognize the Brielle that walks these halls. I know it without a doubt because I don’t. I don’t recognize her anymore.
“Why go there if you weren’t going to fix this shit?” she demands, her frustration getting the best of her. “All five of you abandoned the plans we’ve had since middle school. You left me alone and now even you are keeping secrets from me.”
I sigh, running my hand over my face. “I don’t know what to tell you, V.” I can't tell her I know why Brielle ran from us. Can’t tell her about the blood on our hands. On all of our hands. I can’t risk that she would turn her back on me too. “We weren’t ready to just walk away but it’s only been made more clear that the last thing Brielle wanted was us to follow her here.”
“Please, just…”
I cut her off. “Listen, V. I gotta go. Talk to her if you want to know why she only looks at us with disdain in her eyes.”
“I’ve tried!” she exclaims, making me freeze in place. “Any time I bring you up, she gets this look on her face. Like pained or guilty. Or I don’t even know how to describe it and then she always has to run and just hangs up the phone.”
I scoff. “She’s feeling guilty because she knows she’s being a bitch. But I really do have to go.” I don’t give her a chance to say anything back, knowing she’s only going to continue defending Brielle. “Bye, Little Sis. Love you.”
She huffs. “Love you. Good luck!” I hear her just before I hang up. I throw my phone in my bag. There’s no reason to check it again. I’m in an even worse mood than I was when I woke up this morning thanks to that phone call. As nice as it was to talk to her, it just made me angrier at the situation we’ve all found ourselves in.
Would we have been happier if we had just let Brielle go? Forgotten about all the time we spent together. Cut our losses and just moved on. Just abandoned the idea of revenge.
I shake my head as I throw the locker room doors open and make my way inside, finding Z already there. I just can’t accept not having Brielle in my life. I’d rather she hate me than forget about me. I guess that’s the crux of the problem. I’ll torture her and myself to keep her from being able to move on completely.
I get my first good look at Z as he lifts his head to pull his shirt over it. He looks as pissed as I feel. Great. I drop my bag next to his and start grabbing shit to throw in my locker before I start to undress.
If I thought my mood couldn’t get any worse, I was wrong. I hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation going on a row over from us about some hot piece of ass until I heard Carson’s name. All of a sudden Z’s expression makes a hell of a lot more sense. Why the fuck can’t we just get a break from her?
“Even after he had his hands on another girl all she did was climb into his lap,” one of these assholes comments.
“Maybe she doesn't have a problem sharing,” another jokes and I see red.
“We already know she knows her way between the sheets if the rumors are anything to go by.” They all chuckle as I pull my jersey on roughly over my pads. I can’t even look at Z to get his reaction. I don’t think any of us thought about one of the consequences of the rumors we started being Brielle becoming prime locker room talk. Or for these assholes to act like they could ever have a chance with her.
“Lucky bastard.”
I throw my bag into my locker harder than necessary at the same time as Z slams his shut. From the row over I hear another locker close before a new voice speaks up. “You’re right he is lucky,” he says light heartedly. “That girl adores him and trusts him, but I do have to correct you. Carson didn’t put his hands on any other girl. He’s obsessed with Bri. Kendra was just trying her luck and got rejected. That was all.”
I look around the corner to see one of those fuckers from Carson’s house. Jake from State Farm. I narrow my eyes as he walks past us without a backwards glance. Why the fuck was he defending Carson? I didn’t think they were all that close. His family isn’t one easily pushed around like the families the Crawfords prefer to keep around.
I meet Z’s eyes to find them flaring with barely restrained fury. He isn’t watching where Jake is leaving the locker room though. No, he’s waiting to see exactly who it was that was daring to talk about Brielle that way.
I slap my hand down over his shoulder as we hear the group of three preparing to leave. I keep Zaiden in place with a firm grip, but as soon as we see their faces I can’t help the savage grin that spreads across my face as I memorize the faces of the fucks as they turn the corner. Fucking nobodies who won’t ever see the field during the game. They have nothing but their big mouths and Daddy’s wallets backing them.
None of that matters to us though, it never has. It seems we have found some new toys to play with.
Game on boys.
ChapterFourteen
Laughter spillsfrom my lips as fingers dig into my sides from behind as I’m hoisted up into the air and spun in circles.
