I didn’t know what to feel when I finally said, “And Cameron?”
“He was there at the start, but I’m not sure… I didn’t...” She sounded apologetic, and I didn’t understand. She had nothing to feel bad about. It wasn’t her fault.
“I see.” My blood turned cold.
“Come on,” she said, taking my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
I let her lead me away from the whispers and stares and snickers. Jason and his douchebag friends had been mean to me for years. It was nothing new. Nothing I wasn’t already used to. But this… this was different.
And I couldn’t help but remember Cameron’s words, ‘don’t come crying to me when he ruins you’.
Chapter Ten
Cameron
“Do you need to tell me something?” Jase was blocking the door to Bell’s, hands in his pockets, suspicion glittering in his eyes. We’d headed straight here from the pep rally, but I’d driven myself instead of riding with him and Asher.
“All you need to know is, I handled it.”
“Handled it?” His brow rose. “I didn’t know it needed handling.”
Blowing out an exasperated breath, I ran a hand over my head and down the back of my neck. “Look, you can’t afford to mess up this year. Hailee, she’s a problem you don’t need.”
“So, you thought you’d fix it for me?” He straightened off the wall, folding his arms over his chest.
“I just don’t want to see you mess up the season because of her.”
He narrowed his gaze, searching my face for something. Something I didn’t have the answer to. I held my breath, waiting. Relieved as fuck when a rare smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Shit, man, I can’t believe you did that. She looked ready to cry… and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry.”
My chest tightened remembering how Hailee had frozen up when I’d grabbed her. How her soft curves had tensed beneath my fingers. It had been the same when I’d kissed her, except then she’d quickly softened under my touch. Her body melting against mine even though she’d tried to fight it.
All week, after our janitor’s closet kiss, I’d watched her. She had tried to avoid me; kept her head down whenever we passed in the hall at school, and I’d noticed she didn’t sit in the cafeteria to eat her lunch. But there were moments when she didn’t know I was watching her watch me. Mild curiosity was painted on her expression and something that looked a lot like lust shining in her eyes. Hailee could deny it all she wanted but kissing me had awoken something inside her. I’d felt it.
We both had.
But no matter how good she’d felt pressed against me, how good it had felt having my lips on hers, it was a problem neither of us needed.
So, I’d done what I should have done all along—I pushed her away the only way I knew how.
“Yeah, well, hopefully it’ll keep her off your back for a while. But you need to stop that shit too. We have enough to worry about with Finnigan breathing down our necks, and then there’s this shit with Thatcher—”
“Chill, man, it’s all in hand.” He clapped me on the back before yanking the door open. “Come on, drinks are on me.”
I followed him inside where we were met with a low rumble of cheers. Bell’s was our place; a bar run by an ex-Raider who decked the place out to be a living memorial to the team. Newspaper cuttings and photographs littered the wall, and there was a huge trophy case housing some of Jerry—the owner’s—more treasured pieces of Raiders memorabilia: signed game balls, helmets, game ticket stubs. He even had his old jersey signed by Jerome Maddox, a Raider who went on to win two Super Bowls with the Pittsburg Steelers.
“Fellas,” Jerry greeted us as we each took a stool at the bar. “What can I get you?”
“Two Bud Lights please, J.” Jase got out his wallet, but Jerry shook his head. “First one’s on the house. If you boys didn’t keep using my place, business wouldn’t be half as good as it is.”
“Bell’s will always be Raiders territory.” Jase gave him a nod while Jerry got our beers.
“How’re the team looking?” He handed us each a bottle without hesitation, another perk of being a Raider. “Think we’ll go all the way to State?”
“You know it,” Jase said.
“Gotta bring home the bling before you go off to college.” He wiggled his ring finger, the light hitting his Championship ring. “I heard East are already talking a lot of smack.” The corner of Jerry’s mouth tugged up. Nobody had their ear to the ground as much as Jerry.
“East can bring it. They got lucky last year. This year, they won’t.”
“Damn right, Son. Damn right. I remember my senior year, nineteen-eighty-one, that season was brutal.” His eyes glazed over with memories of the past. “Nobody thought we’d make the play-offs. Our last game was the Eagles at their place. It was a dog fight. By the fourth quarter we were trailing twenty-six-points to zero. We’d got guys bleeding, more injuries than we could count, and a team who was barely standing. I’ll be honest with you boys, I thought it was over. We all did.”
“What happened?” I humored the old man. I’d heard the story before; everyone who came through Bell’s door had at one time or another.
“Coach Royston gathered us around and said to us… he said, ‘strength grows in the moments when you can’t go on, but you keep going anyway’. We came into that fourth quarter defeated, but we rose victorious and went on to win State. Bring it home this season, Son.” He addressed Jason. “The whole damn town is counting on you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched my best friend. His eyes were narrowed, dark, his whole demeanor deadly. Winning State was the dream for most high school football teams, but it wasn’t just a dream for Jason, it was a rite of passage. It was in his blood. And he wanted it more than anything else. He didn’t only want it, he needed it. Sometimes I wondered if he needed it more than the air he breathed.
“You guys take it easy now.” Jerry bid us a good night and went to serve some other customers, and we moved over to where the rest of the team had congregated.
“Why is it?” Grady piped up. “You two fuckers never have to pay for your beer, and the rest of us do?”
Jase raised an eyebrow as he slid into one of the booths.
“Because he’s QB One, jackass,” someone called.
“And Chase? What’s he got that I don’t?” Grady was smirking at me and I flipped him off.
“Try three offers on the table from Division One schools including Penn,” Mackey grinned at me as if he was doing me a favor.
Asher stiffened beside me and then slammed his hand down on the table. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I don’t want to talk about free beer. I want to talk about kicking some Marshall ass.”
A chorus of ‘hells yeah’ broke out in our corner of the bar. Jumping up onto the leather bench, he thrust his beer into the air. “What do y’all say? Do you think we can kick Marshall’s ass?”