“You have no fucking clue! Why her? You know she doesn’t fit your mold.”
“What mold would that be? Surely you can’t think so damned little of her that my interest or affection surprises you?”
“Be honest with yourself, you preyed on an innocent girl who’s starved for attention.”
“You underestimate her. I wonder if you know her at all. Look, this is just as much of a surprise to me as it is you, but not for the reasons you think. In fact, you need to understand right now, I’m not going anywhere. I’m in it for the long haul with her.”
“I don’t want you on my team, in my life, or with my daughter and not because of what you’ve done in the past but because of the way you snuck around behind my back and had my daughter do the same.”
“You’re partly to blame for that, and that’s just tough shit, Coach. And before you object that this isn’t the field, you might want to remember that you’re the one who brought the personal shit into the locker room, not me.”
“So easy for you to say. You’re a punk-ass kid without a family.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I have a family, and it might not be identical to yours, but they depend on me just as much.”
“She might have fallen for the sick dad routine—”
“Wow, you’ve really gone off the fucking deep end, haven’t you? You think I need to make up stories about a sick daddy to get a girl into my bed?”
Murderous eyes meet mine, but my anger boils over.
“With you for a father, no wonder she’s starving for affection.”
“You’re done, Prescott!”
“I was done the minute I pulled up.”
“Fuck you, punk.” He walks towards his truck as I counter.
“With all due respect, sir, fuck you!”
He turns back to glare at me.
“Don’t bother showing up to the game on Friday.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You’ll have to toss me out in front of everyone.”
“Don’t think I won’t.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you there.”
Lance
Troy tosses his helmet in my direction, his anger evident. Tonight, we fucked up, majorly. Both offense and defense. The team is completely at odds, everyone to blame. The whole game was a shitshow, and it had little to do with skill and everything to do with miscommunication. We’re on a losing streak. I shake my head in apology towards Troy, who has just as much riding on being drafted as I do, and tonight, I was benched for half of the game. Technically, I could go over his head if I wasn’t getting fair play and coach knows it, so he’s playing me the minimum which is costing us games. I’ll never understand how he could throw a season out of spite, but I do understand his love for Harper. Because it’s all I know anymore. We’re all circling the drain with morale alone, and that has the team screaming for answers. The village is demanding someone to crucify, and everyone’s house is being searched. Accusations are flying, but it’s the one flying to my right that grabs my attention.
“You,” someone says, and all of our heads snap up. “It’s you, isn’t it, Jenner? Can’t keep your fucking dick out of anyone.”
Troy shakes his head and slams his locker. “Fuck yourself, Altman, it’s not my fault you threw the game away.” This is something I’ve never seen, the quarterback and the wide receiver at each other’s throats. It’s gone too far.
“Chill out, man, don’t point fingers,” someone calls out. “We’re a team; therefore, we all fucked her.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t cum,” someone spits to my left as my pulse kicks up.
“Everybody knows Troy’s the yes man,” Altman mutters with disgust. “He’ll fuck anything.”
“Back off, man,” Troy grits out. “I’m with someone.”
News to me. From what I’ve seen he’s not been bringing anything in off the street for a hot minute. His room’s been a no-fly zone.
“Yeah? Who?”
“None of your fucking business,” Troy growls.
“You need to back the hell off, Altman,” I grunt. It’s one look. One look from Wallace when I know I’ve just implicated myself. Pat eyes me for a long moment before dropping his head. I’m sunk. And I don’t even care at this point because I can’t handle another comment about Harper. But to my complete surprise, he doesn’t say a single word. Instead, he waits for me in his truck in the parking lot sitting mute with his eyes straight ahead, the heat blowing at us from the vent. After a long, uncomfortable silence he finally speaks up.
“It’s her, isn’t it? The dancer from the coffee shop.”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell, Lance? We’ve been boys since freshman year.”
“My silence was for her just as much as it was me.”
“Jesus, I would understand if she was good-looking but—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I hiss in his direction.
“All this shit, all of this because of you and her.”
“It didn’t start like this. I didn’t even know she was coach’s daughter until after, even then I wouldn’t fucking stop so if you’re going to tell them, go ahead and tell them.”
“She’s a six at most, why are you wasting time with a six?”
“Add five to that.”
“What?”
“She’s my eleven.”
With a loud sigh, he puts his truck into gear and turns to me. “Hope it’s worth it.”
“You know it’s Coach Elliot that’s throwing the season, not me.”
“We all see it. And I’m not going to say shit, but this better be the girl you marry. You owe us all that much. She better be worth it.”
“She is.”
Harper
Harper: Hey you.
Lance: Hey baby. You here?
Harper: Just pulled up.
Tears streak my cheeks as I try my best to hold in my sobs. Lance appears in a long-sleeve T-shirt and beanie, his eyes lighting up when they find mine. He frowns when he sees me standing by my car and nods towards his front door.
“Come inside.” He blows in his hands. “It’s cold.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
He looks past me at my loaded SUV. “What the hell? He kicked you out?”
I swallow. “No.”
He closes the distance between us and sees what I’m trying hard to hide.
“I’m leaving. I’m taking my shot, Lance. Things at home, well, they aren’t good, and there’s a casting call for something off-Broadway. René is going to let me stay with him.”
I can physically feel the crack in my chest when his features twist. “Priss, don’t.”
“I can make up school later. I can’t get a dancing year back, ever. It’s for the best. Our relationship is wreaking havoc on your life, your team, the season, my relationship with my father. His career. There’s more than just you and me to worry about. I really,” I sniff. “I really care about you and your family, but I’ve been selfish. We’ve both been selfish. Other people are paying for this.”