by Rose, Renee
I think of Mr. Findle, my journalism teacher back in Golden. “A real story is about news that means something to the readers. It isn’t news the politicians, or in our case, administration wants to feed the population. It’s the story someone is trying to hide. Or the one they don’t want to talk about. Sniff that news out, uncover the wounds, expose the flaws. That is real journalism.”
I still remember the headlines: Two GHS Students involved in Fatal Tragic Car Accident. And then the next month: GHS Student Suffers from PTSD Following Fatal Accident. And the third: Students Remember Catrina Goldberg Through Tile Art Project.
I remember the way the students huddled over the paper reading and re-reading the stories the moment the papers came out. The way they talked in hushed voices. Some even cried.
I wanted to kill our editor John Yager for wanting to write about it. For asking to interview me. I refused to talk to him at first. But somehow he convinced me that the story would be healing for everyone.
He was right. And John Yager won a state journalism award and a thousand dollar honorarium for “his sensitive coverage of the tragedy that affected the entire student body of GHS”.
I hated being the subject of those stories. And yet telling the truth, having my and Catrina’s story told did help on some level.
I stare at my blank screen.
There’s a story to be told here, too.
A story that, again, would put me in the spotlight and cause me a lot of scrutiny and discomfort. A story that drags my tragic experience out into the open for others to explore. It’s the most important news there is to tell at WRHS. The news that means something to every student. News that could protect future students from suffering the same experience I had.
And not telling that news—keeping the secret to protect my own privacy—is not only cowardly, it could cause harm.
I draw in a deep breath and exhale slowly.
So… how do I write this?
* * *
Cole
I pound three of my dad’s beers after practice. He’s passed out on the couch already, his beer gut hanging under his t-shirt and above his gym shorts.
I take a fourth upstairs to my bedroom where I collapse on my back on my bed.
Maybe I’ll drink myself to death along with my dad. Funny how I was working so hard to keep shit together, to keep food on the table, maintain a C average so I can play football, keep my dad from combusting.
Suddenly none of it matters.
School, football team, pack, family. I could give a fuck.
Meaningless.
All that effort I made to fit some role I prescribed for myself. Alpha-hole without a cause. Football star. Jerry’s son. Casey’s brother.
I didn’t even do a good job at any of those roles, but they drove me. Kept me in a lane I didn’t even like.
And now I don’t give a shit about any of it.
All I feel is pain washing over my body. From my head to my feet.
Is this what Bailey feels?
Is that what I did to her?
Because if it is, I want to punch my own face.
I should punch my own face.
I try it and succeed in breaking my nose. Blood spurts out and runs down the back of my throat. I don’t move from where I’m sprawled.
“Cole?” Casey knocks on my door and then pushes it open when I don’t answer. “Why do I smell blood? Fates.” She looks at me with disgust. “Did you do that to yourself?”
“Get out.”
She puts her hands on her hips and stares at me. “So what happened? Adriana’s pregnant and claims it’s yours?”
My hand closes so tightly around the bottle of beer, I crush it, gashing my palm with the glass.
“Cole.” Casey rushes forward and starts pulling glass out of my hand and tossing it into the trash.
“Is it yours?” she asks quietly.
“Fuck, no! I haven’t touched her in a year.” I give Casey a death glare.
She ignores it and continues picking out the glass. “But the hum… Bailey doesn’t believe you?”
I stare down at my mangled flesh, feeling nothing. “No. It came out that I’ve been with Bailey, not Adriana. And Dad was there. And Alpha Green. And I didn’t want them to freak out so I said all this shit.” I want to punch myself in the face again. I close my hand with the broken glass and squeeze, embedding the remaining pieces deeper into my palm.
“Knock it off!” Casey shoves my shoulder and pries my fingers back open. “What shit? What happened?”
“Stupid shit. Mean shit. That I was using her to get even. That my plan was to ruin her. What I used to think about doing to her before I fell—” I swallow. Fuck, it’s true. “Before I fell in love,” I choke.
“And then I walk out and fucking Rayne is there in the hallway and she heard everything.”
Casey’s eyes round. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah. So Bailey’s done with me. And I can’t even fucking look at myself in the mirror because of what I did to her.”
Shame engulfs me.
“I don’t know what to do, Casey.” I never admit weakness with my little sister. Never with anyone, except Bailey. But I need female advice right now. “Is this salvageable?”
Casey’s gone pale. Whether it’s caused by my patheticness or the horror of what I’ve done, I’m not sure. “I don’t know, Cole.”
Even Casey’s disgusted by me.
“Basically, you picked your alcoholic abusive dad over the girl you love. Good choice.”
I don’t even have the energy to glare at her. I rub my hand over my face, smearing blood and bits of glass across my jaw.
“Stop it.” She smacks my hand away. “Do you love her?”
My eyes suddenly sting. Memories of Bailey flash in my mind.
Her standing below my bedroom window, silently staring up at me.
The wonder on her face when she first saw the abandoned playground.
The way she cried for me in her car.
Her cinnamon and honey scent.
The trust she handed me when I didn’t deserve it.
Her willingness to explore a sexual landscape neither of us had visited before.
I was stupid to think she was weak. Or nerdy. Or deserving of my scorn.
She’s complex but clear. Broken but strong. So much more courageous than I’ll ever be.
I wanted to break her, but in the end, she broke me.
And I am fucking nothing without her.
“Jesus, Cole.” Casey sounds shaken by whatever she sees on my face. Fuck, maybe it’s the moisture in my eyes. “Then you’d better figure out how to win her back.”
I lean over and retch the three beers I chugged onto the floor.
Casey yelps and scoots back out of the line of fire. “Disgusting. You are disgusting. You need to decide. Do you want to rise above and win the girl back or use Dad as your role model and just throw in the towel on any kind of decent life? From where I’m standing it looks like you already chose option two, so yeah. Good luck with that.”
I drop back on the bed and close my eyes, wishing I could just pass out and forget the pain in my chest.
The room spins. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and football practice was grueling today. I guess that’s why the beers didn’t stay down. I should clean myself and the floor up. I should get out of this bed.
But I just can’t seem to make myself move…
Chapter 16
Bailey
I wasn’t going to go to the game. I guess I’m truly a masochist. Doesn’t this whole relationship with Cole prove that?
No, I don’t want to go there.
We had moments I wouldn’t trade for anything. And I know the truth about Cole. Underneath the bully and bluster, the swagger and cocky arrogance, is a compassionate, honorable young man who does the right thing when push comes to shove. Who takes care of the people he loves, even if it means taking a beating and pretending not to date the girl he cares about.
/> And I do know he cares about me.
He didn’t fake it. He wasn’t using it or trying to break me. He just… isn’t in a position to be my boyfriend.
And I forgive him everything. Because for all the pain of this breakup, he gave me so much more.
And that’s why I’m sitting in the back row of the stadium with Rayne, watching him play football. I couldn’t stay away.
I spot his dad down in the front, a beer can in his hand.
When the teams trot out, Cole’s head is down. He gets in place for the first play and runs it with a decided lack of enthusiasm, losing the ball to the other team.
The spectators on our side grumble and mutter. I hear Cole’s name spat out from all directions. I guess his fans are fair-weather only.
Which pisses me off.
I hope his friends aren’t, too.
I sit and watch the disaster of the first half with a knot in my stomach, my hands balled on my lap. Cole’s a mess. A total mess.
And it doesn’t soothe my ego to know it’s over me.
It just makes me die inside.
“You want anything?” Rayne asks as everyone rises from the benches to stretch and get food.
“No.” I don’t move. My body feels so damn heavy. My limbs weigh a million pounds. Rayne leaves and I sit and stare out over the crowd.
They’re shifters. Probably most of them. Funny, but I don’t feel like an outsider anymore. Wolf Ridge is my school. This team, my team.
None of that makes sense, but in finding out just how different I am, I finally fit in.
Maybe just knowing I share their secret.
That was what brought Cole and I close, too. The vulnerability of shared secrets.
I hardly notice when Rayne returns and the game starts back up. I’m numb from all the sorrow.
But then Cole comes out and I’m riveted to his figure again.
The whistle blows, the ball snaps. Cole catches it. Someone from the other team tackles him.
And then Cole goes apeshit nuts.
With a clear display of supernatural strength, he pushes up, flipping both their bodies so he lands on his back on top of the other guy, who is on his back on the ground. And then he turns around and starts punching the guy.
The referee blows the whistle non-stop. The crowd screams and boos—both teams alike. Cole’s teammates jump in and drag him off the guy and his coach barrels out shouting.
“Rough play. Player number twenty-six is disqualified,” the referee says over the mic.
I can’t hear what the coach is screaming, but it’s clear he’s livid with Cole. Cole stalks to the sidelines but just before he gets there, he stops and tears off his helmet.
And looks straight up at me.
I don’t breathe.
He doesn’t move.
His coach is shouting at him. The crowd is booing. And then they start muttering. “What’s he doing?” or “Who is he looking at?” The people around us twist in their seats, looking around until everyone in our section lands their gazes on me. Or at least, I feel their gazes on me. I’m not looking. All I see is Cole’s anguished face, his burning gaze only for me.
I lift my fingers in a hesitant wave.
He lifts his chin.
Two of his buddies grab his arms and forcibly haul him off the field.
I bite my lips to keep from bursting into tears, even though I don’t even know what I’d be crying for.
For Cole.
For me.
For us.
What can’t be.
We sit through the rest of the game, although I see none of it. Honestly, I don’t even know if Wolf Ridge won or lost. I probably would’ve sat there all night if Rayne hadn’t grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet to walk to my car.
Out in the parking lot, I hear the sound of raised female voices, but I ignore it. The cheerleaders are over by the baller’s cars where they usually hang out, ready for their post-game partying.
“Bailey!”
I look over at the group. Cheerleaders and a gaggle of other girls I vaguely recognize.
Rayne grabs my arm, like she’s worried.
“Bailey!” It’s Casey at the center of the throng. She’s holding Adriana’s upper arm in a bruising grip and drags her through the group of girls toward us.
“Tell her,” Casey snarls, shaking Adriana. She’s tall, bigger than Adriana even though she’s two years younger. And she definitely shares Cole’s gift of intimidation.
“Tell me what?” I ask. Chills run down my legs. What does this have to do with me? I really can’t take any more of the Wolf Ridge drama.
Adriana bares her teeth in a distinctly wolf-like gesture and tosses her hair. “I’m not telling her anything.”
“Fine, I’ll tell her. Adriana’s not pregnant. She never was. She made it up to cause trouble.”
I fight to swallow, force my clammy hands to uncurl. Why does Casey think I’ll care? Why does she even care? And the biggest why of all—why is she bringing this out in a public place when she knows her brother never claimed to have a relationship with me? That he denied and hid his relationship with me?
“It doesn’t matter,” I croak. “I don’t care.”
Casey’s chest falls. She stares at me for a moment. “Well, I do.” She spins Adriana around to face her. “You cause trouble for my brother or his girlfriend again and I will personally kick your ass.” She releases Adriana with a push.
“Yeah,” some of the volleyball girls agree.
Adriana’s friends catch her. She pales. Casey definitely appears capable of fulfilling the threat.
“I’m not his girlfriend,” I mutter, but no one hears me. The girls are starting to yell at each other again and Rayne tugs me away, eyes wide. “Someone’s trying to fix what’s broken,” she says when we’re at my car.
“Yeah, what do you think that’s about?”
“I think she doesn’t like seeing her brother go down so hard.”
Goosebumps run down my arms. “Over me?” I whisper, even though I know that’s the only answer.
“Um, yeah?” Rayne uses the duh tone of voice. “He just got kicked out of the game down there. He’s definitely having a hard time with your breakup.”
I shake my head and start my car. “You can’t break up what never was.”
“Oh don’t give me that. You may not have had a label, but you two were definitely something. Something big and important to both of you.”
Her words make me wince from pain. He was something big and important to me.
Is still.
I pull out into the line of game traffic. “Not important enough for him to go public with. Even his sister is more willing to admit we were a couple than he is.”
Rayne rubs her forehead. “Right.”
I wend my way through the packed streets until I get to our neighborhood where I drop Rayne off.
The lights are all off and there’s no cars in the driveway at Cole’s house when I get home, which is a relief. I don’t need to wonder what he’s doing. Whether he’s thinking about me. If his chest hurts as badly as mine.
But I guess after tonight I know the answer.
He’s hurting.
Wish that made me feel even one scrap better, but it doesn’t.
* * *
Cole
It’s 10:45 p.m. when I pull up in front of Rayne’s house. Her mom will probably kill me for ringing the doorbell at this hour, but I don’t give a shit. Coach Jamison pretty much kicked my ass after the game. He threw me up against the lockers and told me if I was going to act like a punk, I was off his team.
“I’m off, then,” I hurled back at him, but he slammed me up again.
“Don’t you dare quit on me, Muchmore,” he growled. “Stop acting like a child who has no control over his life.”
“I don’t have control!” I yelled.
“Then take it,” Jamison said quietly. “No one’s in charge of you, but you, Cole. Not me. Not your dad. Not t
he alpha. Are you going to let them take your girlfriend away from you?”
I stared at him in shock. But of course he would know what’s going on with me. My friends would’ve spilled when I almost ruined the game. They would do anything for me, but Jamison is alpha and like a father to all of us.
And that’s when total calm settled over me. Calm and determination. “No,” I vowed. “No, I’m not.”
So I’m here. To figure out how to fix this mess I made. Finding out from Casey what Adriana did only makes me more determined. I march up the steps and ring.
Her mom, a production floor worker at the brewery, answers the door and squints at me, like she’s trying to figure out what’s going on. “Cole Muchmore?” she asks in disbelief.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Rayne’s voice carries from wherever she was and she appears a moment later in the doorway.
Instead of inviting me in, she steps out on the porch and shuts the door in her mom’s face.
“What do you want?” she demands, folding her arms over her chest. She’s two feet shorter than I am, but apparently lost any fear she might have had for me in the past. Bailey did that for her. Gave her the confidence she’d been missing.
I shove my hands in my pockets to appear less threatening. “Advice. I need your advice. Or your help.”
She raises a brow. “You need my help?” Her tone drips disbelief.
“How do I win Bailey back?”
Her mouth opens in surprise. Some of the hostility leaks away. But she says, “Don’t you think you should just let sleeping wolves lie? I mean, you can’t be with her anyway. It’s forbidden.”
I kick her front step. “I don’t give a shit if it’s forbidden. Garrett Green married a human,” I say, referring to our alpha’s own son. “A bunch of his pack members mated humans. Why is this pack so damn old-fashioned I can’t even date one?”
Rayne shrugs. “I don’t know. Are you willing to go up against the alpha on it?”
It’s a test. I realize she wants to know how far I’d go for Bailey before she tells me anything.
“Yes,” I say with total and complete clarity. “I’d go up against Green. My dad. My friends. Whatever it takes. I’m willing to fight for her. Is that what you want to know?”