“Just swapping some notes, sir,” Marc stepped aside and swept his arm out. “After you, Maguire.”
I slipped into the room, pinning Marc with a terse glare. His dark chuckle followed me. “I’ll be watching you, Birdie.”
My heart faltered but I forced myself to keep walking. To ignore his eyes drilling holes into the back of my head.
“Seats, now please,” the teacher boomed, and I dropped down into my chair.
“So,” Ange said from somewhere behind me. “Did you find out what her and Nate were doing?”
“No, she wouldn’t spill.”
“She was probably sucking his dick for some pills. You know he can get a hold of anything.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Maybe.
Anger flared inside me, but I bit the inside of my cheek to ground myself. If I didn’t give them the power, they couldn’t hurt me.
But it really was easier said than done.
Nix
“Where have you been hiding?” Cherri curled her fingers around my arm and pressed in close.
“Around.” I shrugged.
“You know I’d hoped we could spend some time together after the fair… but you disappeared and—”
“Yo, Wilder.” Darius Hench slung his arm over my shoulder, giving zero fucks that Cherri was trying to have a conversation with me. “We partying down at the res tonight?”
“Don’t we always?” I replied dryly.
“Damn straight we do. See you at the pep rally, man.” He clapped me on the shoulder and winked at Cherri. “Looking good, Cher.”
She rolled her eyes, glaring at me.
“What? I didn’t ask him to show up like that.”
“That’s just the thing, Nix. You never say anything. Like Saturday at the fair. You acted like you wanted to spend time with me and then fucked off and—”
“Sorry, yeah. I have some shit going on.”
“You mean you’re hung up on Harl—”
“Don’t,” I seethed, a ripple of irritation going through me.
She made a derisive noise. “Whatever, Nix. I’m done.” Shouldering past me, she took off down the hall and I dropped my head against the locker bank, letting out a deep sigh.
“Trouble in paradise?” Zane stalked over to me.
“Don’t even ask.”
“How’s Jessa?”
“Okay, I guess. She wouldn’t talk about it. Acting like it never happened.”
“And your old man?”
“Barely been around.”
It was both a blessing and a curse. When he stayed away for long periods of time it usually meant the calm before the storm.
“I fucking hate this for you,” Zane said. “You deserve more, man.”
“Don’t we all, Z. Don’t we all.” I stared down the hall at the stream of kids heading for class.
I fucking hated this place. But at the end of the summer, I’d convinced myself that maybe senior year would be better. That maybe things would be a little easier. Two weeks in though, and it was turning out to be a complete shitshow. Coach kept pushing me about college, about Albany U being interested. But could I really do it? Could I make it out of here? Could I leave Jessa behind? My friends behind?
It was a strange place to be, wanting so much more for my future, but being shackled to my life in The Row.
The kids of Darling Hill High made the best of their shitty lives, but we all knew the chances of making it out of The Row were slim to none, and did I really want to get my hopes up only to have my dreams of something better for my life dashed?
“We could blow off the party tonight. Hang out at Buster’s or go over to Kye’s place. I’m sure his mom wouldn’t mind.”
“Nah, we can head to the res. I need to get fucked up.”
“You sure?” He scratched his jaw, studying me. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“Like you’re about to cause trouble.”
“Nah, man. I just want to hang out at the bonfire and chill.” Maybe a beer or two and a smoke would ease some of the restlessness inside me. I wasn’t going for the crowd or the noise or to hang out with the team, I was going for the distraction.
“If you say so.” Zane smirked, but his expression quickly fell. “But first we’ve got to survive the pep rally.”
“Okay, ladies, listen up.” Coach beckoned us in. The cheers of the crowd beyond the doors rumbled like thunder in the distance.
Darling Hill High was eager to welcome its team onto the stage because if one thing gave the school spirit, it was football.
I’d always loved it. The thrill of holding the ball in my hands, of commanding my teammates to deliver the perfect play. Squashing our opponents didn’t hurt either. But as the years went on, and my skill on the field grew, I became detached.
I was good, really damn good. I held two of the state records for passing yards and completions, and on paper I was the kind of player Division 1 colleges wanted in their ranks. But I was also a liability. My grades were mediocre at best, my attendance record was poor, and my school report was littered with suspensions and problem behavior. I was the Hawks’ star player with a questionable reputation. Albany U might have wanted my skill on the field, but it would come with a bunch of conditions I wasn’t sure I could promise to uphold. Because when you’d spent your whole life being told you weren’t good enough, that you’d never amount to anything, it was hard to shake that label.
And too fucking easy to live up to it.
“Last season we almost had it.” Coach Farringdon’s eyes found mine, disappointment radiating there. “But I’m not looking to live in the past. We drew a line under last season, and I want everyone to focus on this year. We have a strong team. A team who can go all the way. You just need to believe it.”
He ran his eyes over every single player, silently letting them know they were here because he deemed them good enough. Worthy enough to wear a Hawks jersey and represent his team.
“We might be the underdogs, everyone might expect us to mess up again, but this is our season. I can feel it.” He whipped off his ball cap and dragged his hand through his salt and pepper hair. “I want you to go out there tonight and soak it up. Your school is behind you. I’m behind you. You just have to believe you can do it. Hands in.”
We all moved closer, shoulder to shoulder. Friends. Teammates. Brothers.
“Nix, son, you want to do the honors?”
Fuck.
Pressure closed in around me, making my lungs smart. I drew in a deep breath, shaking off the weight of expectation. Coach’s. My teammates. The whole damn school’s.
“Uh, yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Coach is right, we came close last year.” Too fucking close, but it had slipped through our fingers, and it was all my fault. Because I’d lost sight of the prize. “So this year we need to step up and make it ours. We’re a good team, a strong fucking team, and we can do it. I know we can. Hawks on three. One… two… three… Hawks.”
My teammates’ cheers rolled through me, boosting the adrenaline coursing through my veins. But when we burst through the doors and jogged into the gymnasium, a sinking feeling spread through me.