It’s Eli. Laughing his ass off.
I need to watch his story, but no way am I going to while I’m surrounded by the entire cheer team. I smile and laugh with the rest of them, acting like nothing’s wrong. Outwardly, I’m calm and serene. But deep inside, the anger grows, getting closer to the surface.
Eventually, I’m going to explode.
Once I’m in my car, I pull my phone from my backpack and go straight to Instagram, entering Eli’s user name.
elibennettqbnumber1
So obnoxious, yet fitting.
I open his story and wait.
There’s Eli standing in the middle of his school’s football field, wearing a pair of black gym shorts that hang low on his hips and nothing else. I stare at his perfect six pack, his flat stomach, remembering how I touched him that night by the lake.
Some things, I wish I could take back. That’s not one of them.
He squints into the sun as other guys from the team approach, at least ten of them all standing in a straight line. They’re similarly dressed, all of them in black shorts, some of them shirtless or wearing team T-shirts. Every single one of them wears a serious expression. No smiling allowed.
“We just had the best practice of our fuckin’ lives today.” He points at the camera, and I jump a little. It’s like he’s talking directly to me, though really he’s speaking to Jake. “Only a couple more weeks until the big game, where we’re going to beat the Badgers’ asses on their own damn turf on homecoming!”
The rest of his team now stand directly behind him, and they roar their approval, some of them shaking their fists.
“So watch out, Jake motherfuckin’ Callahan. We’re training hard in preparation of destroying you, and your team.” He points at the camera again, and I can’t help but think he’s a complete showman. “I can’t wait to beat your smug ass and watch your dad come to me after the game and congratulate us on a solid win.” Eli laughs. “Just knowing he’s going to do that will burn your ass, won’t it?”
He leans in closer to the camera, a huge smile stretching across his face, and my stomach flutters.
“If you only knew what’s really going on, you’d die, bro. Just fuckin’ die!” He stares up at the sky and howls like a wild animal. Some of the other guys howl too. A couple even beat their chests. It’s the weirdest thing ever.
Boys are so strange.
“Life’s a mystery, and right now I’m having the time of my life with someone from your life.” He puts his hands together like he’s praying, bowing toward the camera with a smirk. Icy cold dread slips down my spine. “She’s a tasty little piece, I’ll give her that. Sassy as fuck and not willing to give an inch, despite how many inches I want to give her.”
They all start laughing again, including Eli. My face is hot with anger and I press my lips together, wishing Eli was standing directly in front of me, so I could kick his smug face in.
Or his balls.
He’s talking about me, of course. That little fucker is talking mad shit about me like we’re together and I’m giving it to him every single night, all while we’re laughing and plotting together against Jake.
And that is the furthest thing from the truth. I haven’t talked to him in weeks!
“Oh, wait a minute! I see you got yourself a pretty little redhead now, fucking her in the library. Pretty balls-out for you, Callahan,” Eli continues. “I was told you’re more of a boring missionary man, but maybe you’re becoming more adventurous now that you’re the big senior on campus. Untouchable. Well, guess what, asshole? My boys are gonna be touching you all fucking night in a couple of weeks, and that pretty little redhead isn’t going to be able to nurse you back to health either. You’ll be too fucked up! By us!”
There’s more laughter and the bros start chanting, “Fucked up! Fucked up!”
I quit the story and toss my phone in the passenger seat, at a loss over what to do next. I want to confront Eli. Text him, maybe.
But doing that shows I care, and I don’t care. I really don’t.
Like a robot, I start the car, back out of the space, exit the parking lot and turn onto the highway that takes me to my house. I don’t even realize the tears are streaming down my face until I’m turning onto our road, and by then, my face is damp. My eyes, bloodshot. My mood?
Angry.
And I’m ready to take out all of my aggression on a certain someone named Eli Bennett.
Twenty
Eli
I’m in my room lying on my bed, and I keep checking my phone like a notification from a certain someone is going to magically appear. I’m getting all sorts of notifications tonight. DMs from plenty of people, none of them I want to talk to.
No word from Ava. She’s gone underground.
Which chaps my ass, because come on. I said all that shit today about her, hoping like hell it would rile her up and have her coming for me. Girl goes dark for two weeks. Two motherfuckin’ weeks.
Who does that?
At first, I let it slide. She’s the one who threw up all over the sand after drinking too much that night at the party. Once I walked her back and she found her friend, I let her be, though I was hiding out in the shadows, waiting to see if she got a ride home okay. When I knew her very sober friend was driving her home, all I felt was relief.
I would bide my time and wait for her to reach out to me, figuring I’d hear from her in a day. Maybe two. I told myself I could be patient and wait for her.
My patience has now flown out the goddamn window. It’s been fourteen days. Isn’t that long enough? I need her to talk to me. I am dying for her to say something. Anything. She can call me the biggest fuck up she’s ever seen, at least it’s a response. But the silence?
It’s slowly driving me out of my mind.
Sucks that I can’t see her on campus every day. At least if we went to school together then I could corner her in the hallway or shove her into a dark corner and demand that we have a conversation. Going to different schools basically means we live on two different planets.
I hate it.
I hate everything right now. That’s why I said such shitty stuff about her on my story earlier. Talking about her like I’m banging her pretty ass every day, just to make her big brother mad. In my dreams.
How can a girl make me so crazy, yet I still want her? She makes me madder than hell, yet I sit here and think about all the things I want to do to her. More than that, I just want to listen to her talk. I want to hear what she has to say. I want to watch her lips move when she speaks, and when she stops, I want to kiss her. Taste her.
Drown in her.
I have issues, man. Serious ones.
My phone dings and I grab it like a thirteen-year-old girl, waiting for her secret crush to respond. It’s a text from Brenden.
You do realize we’re not playing this Friday.
Frowning, I respond.
Yeah dumbass. It’s a bye week.
Still practicing hard this week though. We can’t let up just because we have a minor break.
Brenden: You also realize the Badgers have a home game this Friday.
Well fuck me standing, why didn’t I realize this sooner? I’m suddenly so excited, my fingers can barely type out the words I want to say.
Me: You want to go to the game?
Brenden: Hell yeah. I say we round up just about every asshole on the team and go to the game. What do you think?
Me: I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long ass time.
Brenden: Right? Then we can watch them. Analyze them.
Me: Yeah.
Brenden: Maybe you could give Jake a bunch of shit during the game. Razz the hell out of him.
Me: Sure.
I’m distracted. I’m not thinking about Jake or analyzing any of his plays. If we go to their game Friday night—and we are, there’s no question—I can watch Ava cheer on the sidelines. Looking hot as fuck in her cute little uniform, shaking her ass and smiling, waving her pom poms and
yelling to the crowd.
I bet she’ll be spitting fire all night long once she spots me. Fuck, it’s going to be so awesome.
There’s a knock on my door and before I can say anything, Mom comes barging in, stumbling a little. She braces her hand on my dresser so she doesn’t fall and glares at me.
Great. Another drunken fun-filled evening.
“Court date is tomorrow morning,” she announces, standing up tall, I assume she’s going for the dignified look and failing miserably. “I need you there.”
“Sorry. No can do.” I keep my gaze on my phone, scrolling through my old DMs.
“Why the hell not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I have to actually go to school?” I send her a withering look.
She marches toward me to stand over my bed. “You can miss a few hours. I need you there.”
“I can’t. I miss school, I can’t practice. Those are the rules.” That’s a bit of a lie. I just can’t miss the entire day of school. I also need to have my absence excused, and that usually means a medical reason—doctor appointment or whatever. I don’t think court counts.
Well maybe it does, but I’m not telling Mom that.
“Part of what’s being discussed tomorrow is the custody agreement,” she says, like that matters.
It so doesn’t matter. I actually start laughing. “What are you saying? That the two of you are now fighting over who gets custody of me? Be real.”
She rests her hands on her hips. “What exactly are you implying, mister?”
Jesus, she’s talking to me like I’m ten years old and she found my secret Fruit by the Foot stash in the closet.
I leap to my feet and shove my face in hers. “I’m implying that I’m seventeen years old and I think I can choose where I want to live. Besides, not like anyone gives a fuck about me, including you. And Dad.”
Mom’s sputtering, like she can’t find the words to say. Oh, and I think my little outburst also pissed her the hell off. Not like I care. “Don’t you use that language toward me. Your father and I love you. We want what’s best for you.”
“Really.” My voice is flat. My emotions, also flat. I’ve heard those words so much these last couple of years.
We want what’s best for you.
And I’ve come to realize fast that they’re nothing but complete bullshit.
“Then don’t get a divorce.” I throw my hands up in the air. “That’s what would be best for me. A quiet set of normal parents who’ll come to my all my games and cheer me on. Who’ll ask me how my day was when I get home from school. Who’ll want to hang out by the pool and barbecue together as a family.”
She blinks at me, her bloodshot eyes a little out of focus. She only sees what she wants to see, and none of it is real. “I do all of that.”
“Name the last time you went to one of my games.” I cross my arms. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
More sputtering. More mumbling protests. But no actual answer.
“How about the last time you asked me how my day was, huh? Hmm, let me think.” I tap my finger against my lips, looking heavenward before I snap my fingers. “Oh! I know. I think it was my freshman year. When Ryan was still home.”
She starts to cry. Big, fat tears roll down her cheeks, leaving behind black tracks of mascara mapping her skin. Seeing my mom so sad used to make me feel terrible, especially if I was the cause of her crying.
Now, I feel nothing.
“If I could, I’d go back to that time too, Eli. You know this,” she whines.
“Yeah well, we can’t go back. That’s the problem. What’s done is done. I can’t support either of you in this mess. So don’t think you can bring me along to your little court date tomorrow and use me as your weapon of mass destruction against Dad. Not like he cares. He’s too busy taking his whores to the beach for the weekend and fucking them in the sand,” I spit out.
The slap comes out of nowhere, right across my face. For someone who’s completely unstable on her feet, she sure knows how to pack a wallop.
“How dare you,” she murmurs, her eyes blazing with anger when my gaze meets hers. “Don’t you ever speak of your father that way again. Do you understand me?”
I laugh. Cup my cheek. Try to ignore how bad my cheekbone throbs. I think she got me with one of her rings. “Defending him to the bitter end as always. When will you ever learn?”
“He’s your father.”
“And he doesn’t give a shit about you or me anymore! When are you ever going to open your eyes and see that?” I push past her, making my way toward the door.
“Where are you going?” she shrieks after me.
I don’t answer. Instead, I run into the bathroom and slam and lock the door. Within seconds she’s banging her fist on it, rattling the door handle with her other hand, demanding to be let in.
Fat chance that’s ever going to happen.
“Go away!” I yell at her, and she stops almost immediately. For once, she actually listens to me.
It’s a miracle. A day to be noted.
Defeat making my shoulders sag, I go to the mirror and check my face, angling it to the left, then the right. My left cheek is red, with a scratch right on the bone. Pretty sure there’s going to be a bruise tomorrow.
Perfect. I’ll tell everyone I got into a fight. Hell, I might even throw Jake’s name out as my opponent. Maybe that’ll finally get the fucker to actually respond to me. All those Callahans are so tight lipped, they drive me out of my mind.
I strip out of my clothes. Turn on the shower until it’s scalding hot. I step under the spray with a hiss and close my eyes, letting the water wash over me as I breathe deeply and try and calm the fuck down.
My life has fallen apart. Nothing is the same. It hasn’t been for a long time. Nothing is good. I had a chance at goodness, and I fucked it all up. She won’t want me anymore. I can’t blame her.
I wouldn’t want me anymore either.
Twenty-One
Ava
Friday night. Game night. Most important game of the season so far, according to the team. According to the coaches.
According to my family.
For me? It’s just another game. After getting kicked out of practice a few days ago, Cami, the supposed queen bee, has been on her absolute best behavior. Sucking up to the coach. Sweet to everyone. Offering words of encouragement every time anyone does anything. Heck, she even hugged every single one of us when we were leaving practice yesterday.
Something’s up. I don’t trust her.
Everyone on the team is talking to me more, and I think that’s because I stood up to Cami when no one else would. Since the beginning of the school year, I haven’t quite felt like myself. I’ve been quieter. More withdrawn. Unable to speak up.
Cami pushed me to my limits. Calling her out for her bad behavior felt so good. So normal. I’ve been riding high ever since.
It might help that I haven’t dealt with Eli in weeks. Instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, I’ve pushed him out of my head. Held onto that anger her deserves. Knowing that he’s been with Cami, who I despise. So disgusting. It makes me think less of him.
Less and less and less of him.
After warming up, I’m feeling confident when I walk over to the stands with the rest of the cheer team. The junior varsity game is almost finished, and our team is winning. The bleachers are full of people, and the line to get into the game is long.
I do a double take when I spot a cluster of boys waiting to get inside, and they’re all wearing black and purple and gold.
Mustang colors.
The girls at the front of our group start whispering among themselves, casting curious glances toward those boys.
“What’s going on?” I ask Dakota, who’s just ahead of me.
She slows her steps so she can walk beside me. “The Mustang varsity football team is here tonight.”
My stomach dips, immediately filling with dread. “Why?”
; “They must have a bye week.” Dakota shrugs, glancing over to where the Mustang boys are standing. Some of them have noticed us, and they’re blatantly staring. “There’s a few of them who are really cute.”
“You’re just saying that because they’re fresh blood,” I tease, hoping I sound light and casual.
Inside, I’m heavy and serious. No surprise. Though luckily enough, I’m not overwhelmed with anger.
Not yet.
“True, but seriously. They’re hot. That blond guy with the long hair, what’s his name?” Dakota asks.
Jackson Rivers. I don’t say it out loud.
Baylee announces it instead, with her booming cheer voice and of course, he turns his head, staring right at us.
“Say it a little louder,” Dakota calls, and our entire team bursts out laughing.
Jackson just smiles and waves. Dakota waves back. So do a few of our teammates. I don’t.
I just pray Eli isn’t here.
We pass in front of the stands, the long line of us headed for the gate that opens to the sidelines. Brandy remains behind us and shuts the gate once we’re inside, deterring anyone from following us. Only certain people are allowed on the sideline. Us and the band. Oh and of course the football players and coaches, though we cheer on the track. When the team runs out on the field, they do open the gate temporarily for all the students to come down and cheer them on, which is always fun.
It totally gets my heart pumping with excitement.
We all put away our backpacks and immediately start taking photos. In other words, our usual routine on a Friday night before the game starts. Selfies and Boomerang videos for the cheer teams’ social media account and then photos for ourselves.
I’m posing for a photo with Dakota and a few of the other girls, our heads close together as we smile for the camera, when every hair on my body seems to stand on end. As if someone’s watching me.
But when I glance up to scan the crowd, I see no one familiar, no one who would be watching me in particular beyond my mother, who’s sitting at the top of the stands, chatting away with a few of the football booster parents.
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