It was only the first practice of the semester, but the guys were looking to me to lead them all the way to the playoffs this season. They weren’t expecting to see their quarterback get his ass handed to him all morning.
But I couldn’t get Chloe’s words from Saturday night out of my fucking head.
She’s back.
Kye leaned down and offered me his hand, pulling me up. “You good?”
“I’ll live.”
“Listen, about what Clo said. We don’t even know—”
“Wilder, get the fuck over here, son. Now.”
“Jesus, he’s gunning for you today.” Kye shot me a concerned look.
“Nah, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” I tore my helmet off and jogged over to Coach and assistant coach Jameson.
“Talk to me, Wilder. What the hell is going on out there?”
“It’s taking me a while to find my flow, Coach.” The lie sounded convincing enough.
“Flow… it’s like watching Bambi drunk off his ass trying to play ball. Your aim is off. You’re dragging your ass around the field like you didn’t break two state records last year. Talk to me, son.”
“It’s nothing, Coach. I promise.” I scratched the back of my head. “Just need a little time to settle back in.”
His eyes narrowed, cool and assessing. Coach Farringdon was a good man. A strong leader who didn’t only demand respect from his players, he earned it. He’d been one of the few positive role models I’d had in my life.
But sometimes, I didn’t know why he pushed me so hard. This was it for me—high school football. It didn’t get any better than this, and I’d made peace with that a long fucking time ago.
“If there’s something I need to know—”
“There’s not,” I snapped, immediately reining myself in. “I swear, Coach, I’m good. It’s just first practice back jitters.”
“Jitters, my ass.” He grumbled, wafting his clipboard at me. “Get back out there and make the damn pass. We’re not leaving here until you do. Even if I have to explain to Principal Marston why his football players weren’t in second period.”
“You got it, Coach.” I pulled on my helmet and jogged back toward center field, giving the signal to my teammates. “Run it again.”
“Again?” Hench chuckled. “Haven’t you hit the ground enough already?”
“Just run the damn play,” I barked.
Hench was good. Real fucking good. But he had a big mouth and a tendency to push my buttons. Usually, I let it slide.
Today though, today I was itching for a fight.
The scrimmage line moved into position, and my center got ready to snap me the ball. Inhaling a deep breath, I readied myself. “Hut,” I called, and he released the ball. I caught it, pulling tall as I jogged backwards to scan the field for my wide receiver.
Once he was in my line of sight, I wound my arm back and made the throw. The ball sailed on a near perfect trajectory, cutting through the air like a bullet. Kye was tracking it, moving into position ready to—
He leaped off the ground and swiped the ball into the palm of his hand, cradling it to his body as he took off down the field.
“Better,” Coach yelled. “Much better. Good work, Wilder. Hit the showers. I don’t want to see your ugly faces again until tomorrow.”
“I let you have that one, Wilder.” Hench smirked at me as he headed for the locker room, and I shoved down the urge to rush him and wipe that smug fucking smirk right off his face.
“I don’t know how he’s still standing,” Zane said, jogging over to me.
“You know I can’t get into any trouble.”
Not on the first day, at least.
“Yeah, but an illegal jab or two wouldn’t have hurt. He’s such a smug bastard. I’d love to wipe—”
“Relax.” I slung my arm over Zane’s shoulder. “He’s one of the best defensive players we have, and I’m man enough to overlook the fact he’s a complete asshole.”
“Yeah, but come on, Nix. Tell me you didn’t imagine grinding his face into the ground every time he sacked you.”
“Whose face we grinding?” Kye joined us as we reached the doors to the locker room.
“Didn’t you hear? Nix has turned over a new leaf.” Zane smirked, and I flipped him off.
“I can always make exceptions for you, Washington.”
“Bring it, Wilder.” He flashed me a wolfish grin. “I know you’re itching for a fight.” Tipping his chin in invitation, I glanced around, realizing we’d drawn an audience.
“Not here,” I said, refusing to give our teammates a show.
I needed to burn off some steam, but it would have to wait until later.
“You shouldn’t have.” Chloe dropped down next to Kye and snagged a handful of his fries.
“You know, you could get your own lunch instead of stealing mine.”
“Stealing? I was always led to believe that what’s yours is mine, brother.”
“And what about what’s yours?”
“Simple. What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is mine.” She shrugged, fighting a smile.
“Seriously though, Clo. Do you mind? We’re in the middle of something.”
“The something of what exactly? Eating lunch? Rating girls on their racks? Uh, let’s see, plotting world domination, no, you’re not intelligent enough for that. So that leaves… ah, yes… nothing.” Chloe grinned.
“She has a point, man.” Zane mumbled.
“Don’t tell her that. We’ll never get rid of her.”
“Hello, sitting right here. Seriously, Nix, I don’t know how you put up with these two clowns.”
“Always a pleasure, Clo.”
“Actually, I thought you might want to know I found out something else… about Harleigh, I mean.”
I froze, her words lashing my insides. Deep visceral cuts, splaying me open. But I schooled my expression and said with indifference, “I don’t.”
“Okay.” She frowned. “So I’ll just go.” Her blue eyes bore into mine. Daring me to say it. To give in. But I didn’t want to give her any power over me.
It was bad enough I’d barely gotten any sleep last night. I didn’t need to drag this out any longer than it needed to be.
So Harleigh was back. It wasn’t like there was anything left to salvage between us.
She was one of them now.
Her life was across the reservoir.
Everything we’d ever shared, everything we’d ever done…
It didn’t fucking matter.
“You might as well say what you came to say.”
Chloe inclined her head slightly. “She started DA today.”
Kye sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re sure?”
“How’d you even find out this shit?” Zane voiced my concerns. Well, the concerns I would be having if I could think straight for longer than a second.
My mind was a blur of questions. Things you tell yourself, things you tell each other to try to make sense of something.
Harleigh Wren was back. She was in Old Darling Hill, attending Darling Academy.