“Gee, careful there. I do want to come back sooner rather than later.”
Puck cringes. “Oops. Sorry.”
Andreas comes over, watching me with a thousand questions in his eyes. He wants to know how my date went, and knowing the perv, he’ll ask for all the details.
“So?” he starts.
“I have nothing to report.”
“Come on, man. Maybe if you paint me a good picture, I’ll consider sticking to one girl for a while.”
Puck scoffs. “Yeah, right. When hell freezes over.” He turns to me. “Is your girl watching the game?”
“Yeah. She brought her brother too.”
“Cool, man. Nice to see Andy’s heathen ways haven’t rubbed off on you.”
Puck comes from a super religious family and has been with the same girl since high school. He loves to pick on Andreas’s amoral ways.
“Shut your piehole, altar boy,” he rebuffs.
“Make me.” Puck seems to grow in size, towering over Andreas.
Their banter is harmless, so I just head to my locker to put my uniform on.
A few minutes later, Coach Clarkson’s booming voice cuts through the room, commanding everyone’s attention.
His determined gaze finds mine, but all he does to acknowledge my presence is nod slightly. He proceeds to give the team a pep talk, and I usually hang on his every word, but I’m having a hard time getting focused since I’m not playing. I spot Danny next to Andreas, and a pang hits my chest that he’s going in my place. I told Charlie I was fine with not playing, but being here with my teammates makes it harder to pretend that’s true.
I hear my phone’s text tone inside my duffel bag. Since I’m not invested in the coach’s speech, I fish the device out. It’s a message from Brooke.
When were you going to tell me you had a new girlfriend?
What the hell? Is she mad at me? It sure as shit sounds like it. Damn it. She picked the wrong time to annoy me with her bullshit.
I didn’t think I had to.
I click Send, even knowing my reply is harsh. Her reply comes through a few seconds later.
Wow. Just wow.
It’s pointless to continue the convo, so I just shove my phone back in the duffel bag and try to forget my ex is acting like we just broke up yesterday and not two years ago.
31
CHARLIE
I take back everything I’ve ever said about football. Being in the stadium, feeling the contagious energy of the crowd, made me understand why people love it so much. I still don’t know most of the rules, but in the end, it didn’t matter.
There was also the added bonus that I wanted the opposing team to lose badly all thanks to the encounter with those bullies earlier, and the Rushmore Rebels delivered. It was a hard game, and the score remained tight throughout the entire three and a half hours, but in the end, the Rebels won. My voice is hoarse from screaming.
Troy texts me that he might not be able to sneak out to ride with us. I totally understand. This victory was amazing, and I’m sure the celebration in the locker room is crazy right now. I tell him not to worry. His reply is to let him know when we’re in the food court and he’ll try to make it.
The crowd is slow to leave, and since we’re all the way down, it takes at least ten minutes for our row to move. Ben and I file out, and then we trudge along with the rest of the people. It feels like an eternity before we finally reach the top of the stairs. I get out of the traffic headed for the exit and look for a quieter spot to text Troy back.
He’ll be here in a few minutes, so I wait, keeping my eyes peeled and searching for him in the crowd. But I find someone else first, and I wish I’d missed her altogether. Brooke, Troy’s beautiful friend, is coming in my direction. It’s too late now to pretend I didn’t see her, and it’s clear she’s making a beeline in my direction. She’s with a friend, a brunette just as tall as she is but not as pretty.
“Hey. Charlie, right?” Brooke asks me with a phony smile plastered on her face.
“Yep. How’s it going?”
“Oh, pretty good. So, you and Troy, huh?”
I knew she had ulterior motives for coming to speak to me. Thanks to my snooping of Troy’s Instagram profile before my interview with him, I know they’re close, probably dated at some point. But he’s never mentioned her, so I wasn’t going to ask. Judging by Brooke’s fake friendliness, my assumption was correct. If they didn’t date, then she has a major crush on him.
Too fucking bad.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t get it,” the friend says. “Weren’t you the girl who wrote that nasty article about him? Why would he date you?”
I narrow my eyes for a second, but when I reply, it’s with a saccharine smile. “You know what they say: there’s a fine line between love and hate. I guess we were just bound to cross it.”
“Oh, so now you think Troy is in love with you?” She scoffs. “In your dreams.”
“Tammy, please.” Brooke touches her friend’s arm as her face twists into an expression of discomfort.
Yeah, I’m not buying it.
The ugly brunette takes a sip of her soda first before replying, “What? I was just saying what everyone knows. Troy doesn’t love anyone but himself.”
Whoa. Maybe we have more than one scorned woman here, not only Brooke.
“I’m pretty sure his only problem is that he has high standards,” Ben says before I can.
“Oh my God. The retarded boy speaks.” The bitch looks at Ben with disdain, an expression I know too well. What she doesn’t know is that every bully who has taunted my brother because of his Down syndrome has paid the price.
Brooke gasps, looking genuinely shocked by her friend’s comment. It doesn’t matter. My vision has already turned red, and before anyone can stop me, I pull my arm back and punch the bitch in the nose.
Her head jerks back right before she screeches, creating a commotion. “What the hell! You broke my nose.”
Unlikely, since I didn’t hear anything crack.
My pulse is pumping in my ears when I reply through clenched teeth, “Be glad that’s all I broke.”
Troy appears suddenly, breaking through the crowd to get to us. “What happened?”
“That filthy whore broke my nose.” The girl points at me.
“You called her brother the R-word,” a lady I hadn’t noticed until then cuts in. “It’s because of disgusting, prejudiced people like you that there’s still a stigma today if people are different.”
Wow. I didn’t expect anyone to stand up for me. Her defense brings tears to my eyes.
She glances at me and smiles as a way to say she has my back.
Troy turns to Brooke. “That’s the company you keep nowadays?”
“They were both out of line,” she retorts, crossing her arms.
“I want to go. Can we go, Charlie?” Ben asks, clutching the sleeve of my jacket. His small voice breaks me.
I pull him into a side hug, ignoring the throbbing in my hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”
I’m too angry to check if Troy is following me. I just want to get out of here. The onlookers are smothering me.