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“Miss it, slut!” someone yells from the crowd before I hit the ball. It catches me off guard enough that I barely make contactwith the outside of my hand, and the ball sails far too slowly over the net and is recovered easily by the other team.
I glare over my shoulder and see Audrey laughing on the sidelines, hanging all over Devon.
“Ally Hargrove is a whore!” she yells.
I grit my teeth. Fuck saying sorry. I’m going to fucking kill them both.
The next two times, I’m ready. Maybe I overstep a little, taking a hit that should have been my teammates, but I drill the ball straight into the ground on the next two plays and step in to serve with our team in the lead.
“Come on, Ally! Do what you do best! Choke!” Audrey yells as I step back from the line.
“Are you going to do anything about this!?” I yell at Coach Davis.
She shakes her head but walks over and says something to Audrey that I don’t hear, who only laughs. When she steps away, she grabs Devon by his shirt, pulls him into her, and kisses him on the mouth.
And I see red. And nothing else.
I spike the ball hard, but not toward the net, hitting her right in the face, and the next thing I know, I’m in the stands, swinging at her. Coach’s arms circle around my waist and attempt to pull me back while I fight against her, desperately trying to claw at any part of Audrey I can get to.
“Get out!” Coach yells. “Get out of here, Ally. Go home. You’re done.”
“But she—”
“Look at her!” she says. “Look what you did to her face. Look at your team! You’redone,Ally. Hit the showers and turn in your jersey.”
Turn in my jersey?No.
No, I can’t.
“Please don’t kick me off the team,” I beg. “This is…it’s all I have.”
“You should have thought about that before you attacked another student in the middle of a match!” she says. “Don’t embarrass your team more than you already have. Go now and go quietly.”
I look out at the court and see them all staring at me—the other team, too. I see the silent plea in Morgan’s eyes for me to just go before I make it any worse, so I do. I pick up my bag and try to hold my head up, not letting the tears fall as I cross the gym to the locker room.
I strip down, cover myself with my towel, and head to the showers. I close the curtain behind me, turn on the water, and wait until it’s hot against my hand and steam billows off the cold tile floor before draping my towel over the shower wall and stepping under the stream. Once I do, I let myself cry.
I was wrong when I told Devon I had nothing left to lose—I had onemore thing.
I let myself sob under the water long after it goes cold—letting it run down my face, wondering what the hell I’m going to do now and how I’m supposed to crawl out of the grave I’ve dug for myself.
I don’t think I can do this anymore.
I open my eyes, confused, when I realize the water has shut off and turn to find Devon standing in the small space next to me.
I scramble to grab my towel from the wall and wrap it around my body, clutching it to my chest and doing my best to cover myself.
“Looks like that water was cold,” he says.
“Get out, Devon! Now!”
“No, I don’t think I will,” he says, closing the space between us. He runs a finger down my left cheek. “I didn’t want you to get kicked off the team. I don’t know what to do with you. I want to hurt you, but I don’t want anything else to hurt you. Can you understand that?”
“No, I can’t.Not at all.”
I never want him to hurt. Ever.
“Is thisthatshower?”
