I wanted to tell him that, one day, he’d meet a girl who made everything else pale into insignificance. A girl who would get under his skin and gnaw away at his soul. But he wasn’t ready to hear the words… and I wasn’t ready to admit I knew what the hell I was talking about. So instead, I slung my arm around his shoulder and said, “Come on, Casanova, we should probably show up for a class or two.”
Our little stunt at lunch calmed the vicious rumors spreading through the halls, but it still didn’t stop some guys, and girls, thinking they could talk about Hailee like she was the town slut.
“You need to do something,” I urged Jase as we walked from last period to the locker room.
“Tried that, and she threw it back in my face.”
“So, give the word for the team to quash the rumors.”
He glared at me. “Why are you so worked up over this? It was just a photo.”
“And you’re okay with everyone thinking Hailee gives it up to the Eagles? To Thatcher?” My brow rose, challenging him. It wasn’t like I could tell him the truth; that every time I heard someone call her a slut or whore, I wanted to break their face. He wouldn’t want to hear that.
“You need to put an end to it, now. Before Finnigan hears something that gives him cause to look closer at this grudge between us and East.”
Jase rolled his shoulders back, his hardened gaze locking on mine. But he didn’t reply, he simply strolled into the locker room. Trailing after him, I went straight to my bench and began peeling out of my clothes.
“Yeah, well I wouldn’t mind her sucking on my dick.”
My eyes snapped over to two juniors huddled over a cell phone. “What’s that?” I asked, pulling on my pants.
The one holding the phone paled. “Hmm, nothing, it’s nothing.” He dropped the cell in his bag and pressed his lips together.
“No, seriously, what was it?” Irritation rippled up my spine. “Because I know it’s not what I think it is,” I ground out, slowly approaching them. “I know you’re not fucking stupid enough to be talking about your QB’s step-sister like that.”
Silence descended over the room, but I only had eyes for the junior who looked ready to piss himself. “Come on, Chase,” he stuttered around a weak smile, as if we were old friends. “It’s not like that… I wasn’t…”
“So, tell me how it is?” I reached him, plucking the cell phone from his open bag. He was as white as a ghost now as I thrust the cell at him and barked, “Unlock it.”
With shaky fingers, he swiped the screen and tapped out the pin. “I’m- I’m sorry, man, we were just goofing around.”
I saw the flash of Hailee’s face on the screen but kept my eyes locked on his face. I couldn’t see that shit, not again. Not if I wanted to avoid making a huge fucking mistake. Grabbing him by his collar, I yanked hard putting us face to face. “This isn’t just a team, it’s a family. You disrespect one of us, your disrespect all of us. You want to talk shit about your QB’s sister?” My breaths came hard as I narrowed my eyes on him.
“I… I’m sorry.” His face was pale.
“Chase, ease up.” Jase’s demand barely penetrated my anger, but I felt him move behind me. “Chase.” His hand landed on my shoulder and I flinched, shoving at the junior until he stumbled backward.
“You talking shit about Hailee?” Jase asked him.
“It wasn’t—”
“Chase is right. This is a team. My. Fucking. Team.” His voice was ice cold. “You feel me?”
The kid nodded, mumbling some incoherent apology.
“That goes for the rest of you.” Jase swung around, running his eyes over each of his teammates. “Anyone else want to run their mouth off about Hailee?” He was met with silence. “Didn’t think so. Hailee is off-limits. Always has been. If anyone needs reminding of that, I have no problem arranging it. This shit with the photo, it ends now.”
My best friend’s eyes slid to mine. His lips were pursed, annoyance pouring off him, but he gave me a little nod of understanding, and I returned it. Jase might not have wanted to intervene, but I’d given him no choice.
I only hoped I wouldn’t live to regret it.
Hailee
After Jason, Asher, and Cameron attempted to sit with us at lunch on Monday, things died down and, by the time Friday rolled around, the photo of me was old news. Instead, everyone was talking about the Raiders first game away from home against the Levinson Lions.
“Hi, Hailee,” some girl I barely recognized said as Flick and I walked to lunch.
“Hmm, hi,” I replied, my brows drawn tight, before glaring at my friend. “Okay, what the hell is happening now?”
She gave me a smug look, and I asked, “What?”
“I think you’re Rixon’s new hottest toy and everyone wants to play with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” So a couple of people had tried to talk to me, and I’d even been asked if I was going to watch the game tonight. I wasn’t, obviously. But my total lack of school spirit no longer seemed to qualify me as a social leper. And for as much as I didn’t want to admit it, Flick was right. People were interested in me all of a sudden.
With a chuckle, she looped her arm through mine as we entered the cafeteria. “You know, they came to sit with you for a reason.”
“Yeah, but…” I hesitated. I knew what she was hinting at, but it didn’t make any sense. “Let me get this straight. First, I’m treated like an outcast because Jason issued some kind of blanket Hailee-is-off-limits rule. Then I become the school slut for a fake photo circulated by Lewis Thatcher. And now, I’m what? Hot property because Jason and the guys sat with us at lunch; for all of five minutes, I might add.”
“Jason and the guys?” Flick grinned, her eyes mocking me.
“Oh, piss off,” I grumbled. “You know what I mean.” It had been a simple slip of the tongue. Nothing more.
“I’m not saying it makes any sense, I’m just saying, I think he did something.”
“Did something?” I scoffed. “He’s barely said two words to me since Monday.” There had been the odd grunt here or there when we passed one another at home, and he had actually sat down and eaten a meal with us last night, much to everyone’s surprise. But I was under no illusion Jason and I were any closer to becoming friends. That ship had sailed long ago.
Not that I wanted that anyway.
I didn’t.
Flick shrugged as we joined the lunch line. “But he might have said something behind the scenes. Told people they need to be a little nicer to you, perhaps?” Her brow shot up suggestively.
“You have met my step-brother, right? Being nice is not in his emotional capacity.”
“He’s a douchebag, I’m not denying that.” Her lips pursed as if the words left a sour taste in her mouth. “But think about it. He’s never let anyone else near you. The second Thatcher sent that photo though, he stepped up.”
Stepped up? Is that what we were calling it?
“And I’m what?” I whisper-hissed, aware of all the prying eyes and ears within our immediate vicinity. “Just supposed to forgive the last six years and become Team Jason?”