Rixon Raiders: The Collection

by L A Cotton

  “If I recall, you were sober.” Her eyes held an unspoken meaning and I felt sucker-punched.

  Brushing her off, I said, “I had a couple of beers. Coach doesn’t like us—”

  “Stop, please stop.” She held up her hand, burying her face again. “It hurts.” Her words were mumbled.

  “You sure you know what you’re doing?” I asked Asher. He had a flour handprint on his face and another on his t-shirt.

  “You’re supposed to whisk the batter, not wear it,” Felicity said looking over from the pan. The smoky scent of bacon wafted over to me and my stomach grumbled.

  “I’ll be back. Try not to kill each other.” I shot Asher an amused grin and he flipped me off over Felicity’s shoulder as she tried to show him how to whisk correctly.

  Outside, Jase was sitting in one of the patio chairs. “She’s annoying as fuck.”

  “Who, Hailee?”

  “No, Felicity,” he grunted.

  “I don’t know, she’s not that bad.”

  Jase levelled me with a hard look. “Why are they even here?”

  “Because you told Asher to invite them to the party…”

  “Whatever. I just don’t want her thinking this means something.”

  “Why would Felicity think—”

  “Hailee, jackass. Keep up.”

  “You’re in a delightful mood this morning.”

  “I’m just sick of this shit with Thatcher. Him finding out about Hailee was the worst thing that could have happened. Now I have to pretend to actually give a shit about her.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think she’s going to get the wrong idea any time soon.”

  Hailee wasn’t like most girls. She didn’t see signs that weren’t there. If anything, the years of back and forth with Jason had hardened her. Now she was wary of others; always questioning people’s motives. In fact, they were far more alike than either of them realized. Except where Jason’s cool exterior had rubbed off on her, she’d failed to make so much as a dent in his tough shell.

  “Rivals Week.” His voice was flat. “I usually live for this shit, but something’s different this year.”

  He didn’t need to tell me. I’d felt it ever since we walked into school on the first day of the semester. Maybe it was our impending final season as Raiders, the expectation of bringing home State. Or maybe it was the distance growing between us as our lives started to take different paths. I wanted college. I wanted a college career playing football. But I didn’t want it the way Jase did. And over the summer, as the days until senior year had crept closer, the pit in my stomach had grown and grown until I felt pulled in two.

  Part of me was still Cameron Chase, number fourteen, star wide receiver for the Rixon Raiders, waiting for the nod from a Division One team. But the other part didn’t know who he was anymore. He was scared of the unknown; of what his family’s future looked like if he left. And the two parts of me no longer married up.

  “At least they’re coming to our backyard. We don’t have to worry about them pulling any stunts at their place on game night.”

  A couple of years back, in our sophomore year and Jason’s first year as first string QB, we’d drawn the Eagles at their place. It was a dog fight; both teams battling it out for the win. Tensions were high and tempers frayed. Jase had got into it with two of their defensive ends after they kept playing dirty—repeatedly holding him and trying to grab his face mask—and an all-out brawl had happened on the field.

  Jase clenched his fist against his thigh, his leg tapping against the patio. “I want to destroy him. I want to—”

  “Breakfast is served.” Asher’s voice pierced the air and Jase shoved out of his chair, stalking inside.

  He was losing it. But Rivals Week was always a big week on our calendar. Coach Hasson had already warned us to stay out of East this coming week, a warning we all knew had filtered down from Principal Finnigan. That didn’t mean Thatcher and his guys wouldn’t come at us though, and now he knew about Hailee, there was every likelihood she would be at the top of his shit list.

  I went back inside, the scene of Asher and Jase eating breakfast with Hailee and Felicity, without trying to kill each other, was one of the weirdest things I’d ever witnessed.

  “Dude, you need to try the bacon. The girl knows how to cook.” Asher grabbed another piece off the plate and shoved it into his mouth, grinning over at Felicity.

  “Must you be such a pig?” She scolded him and he actually blushed. Asher Bennet’s cheeks turned beet red.

  What the fuck was happening right now?

  “This looks great, Felicity, thanks,” I said, dropping onto the stool beside Hailee. She tensed, not looking at me as she pushed scrambled egg around her plate.

  “Not hungry?” I asked, fighting a smirk.

  “Piss off,” she grumbled, resuming her plate art.

  “So,” Felicity piped up, completely oblivious to the various degrees of tensions lingering over us. “Rivals Week? How’re you feeling about the big game Friday?”

  Jase stared at her like she’d grown a second head while Asher chuckled. “You’re becoming quite the fan, aren’t you, Fee?”

  “Fee?” She almost choked over the word.

  “What?” He shrugged. “I figured you need a nickname now we’re all friends.”

  Fee didn’t look convinced. “Why is it,” she said, her eyes sliding to Jase again. What was it with her and my best friend? “I never know whether to believe a thing that comes out of your mouth?”

  “Because you shouldn’t trust a Raider,” Hailee spoke up.

  “Now, now, Hails,” Asher said smugly. “I didn’t lie about the party, did I?”

  “This has been fun and all,” Sarcasm dripped from Jase’s voice. “But are the two of you planning to get the fuck out of here anytime soon?”

  Silence fell over the Bennet’s breakfast counter. Felicity lowered her eyes, chewing her lip anxiously. But Hailee didn’t look surprised. In fact, she looked oddly relieved as she met his icy stare with her own. “It would be my pleasure.” She rose from her stool quickly, the metal legs scraping across the tiles, and snapped at Felicity. “Coming?”

  “I… uh, yeah. Bye.” Hailee’s friend gave us a small wave and they both fled from the kitchen.

  “You’re a dick,” Asher ground out, shoving his plate away from him.

  “And you only just realized this?” Jase shot back, continuing to eat his breakfast like he hadn’t just dismissed his step-sister and her friend away from the table like naughty children.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hailee

  I marched out of Asher’s house with Flick trailing after me. God, my step-brother was an asshole. He couldn’t just be civil for ten fucking minutes while we ate breakfast. The breakfast my best friend had made for him no less.

  Bastard.

  “Hails, will you just slow down a second?”

  “I need to get away from here, Flick.” Anger propelled me forward until I was stomping down the Bennet’s driveway, arms swinging by my sides, breaths coming in sharp bursts. “This, coming here, it was a bad idea.”

  “He’s a jerk, you’re right. But Asher is—”

  I whirled around, glaring at her. “Please don’t tell me you’re developing a crush on Asher Bennet, the same Asher I know for a fact has slept with the entire girls track team.” Probably all at once knowing him.

  “No, I don’t like him. Jeez, can you just breathe for a second?” She smoothed her hair back, composing herself. “I just think he’s funny and he likes us.”

  “He likes us now, Flick. Now. After Thatcher discovered who I am. Don’t you get how messed up that is? If we’d have never gone to that party with Toby and Jude do you really think we’d be here now?”

  “Well... no.” Her shoulders sank in defeat, hurt glittering in her eyes as they darted to the ground.

  I felt like a mean bitch, but she was too quick to see the good in Asher. Too blinded by the pro
mise of parties at his house and being sweet-talked by him in the cafeteria. Flick hadn’t been the brunt of their jokes and mean pranks for the last five and a half years, but she had been right there beside me to witness it. So the fact she was ready to overlook that, made it all seem trivial somehow. As if none of it really mattered because they were Raiders. And if they extended you an invitation into their inner circle, you took it, regardless of whatever bullshit had come before.

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay.” I tried to school my irritation. “I know you want to fit in. I know you have your list and you want to make senior year one to remember. But it can still be fun without them.” My eyes flitted over her shoulder and back to the house.

  “What about Cameron?”

  “What about him?” My chest ached remembering how he’d rejected me last night and then acted as if nothing had happened this morning.

  “You like him,” she added. “I know you do.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said quietly, feeling my chest constrict. “He’s Jason’s best friend, Flick, a Raider. Our worlds aren’t supposed to co-exist.” The quicker I got that through my stupid head, the better. Cameron was loyal to Jason, which made him my enemy. So despite any attraction between us he was a bad idea. Really bad. Because Cameron Chase wouldn’t only hurt me. Given half a chance he would completely ruin me.

  And I couldn’t let that happen.

  I wouldn’t.

  “But—”

  “Come on.” I cut her off, done talking about him. “We can walk back to your house.”

  She nodded, following me down the long winding driveway. “Hey, were you crying last night?” I asked, the vague memory suddenly flooding my mind.

  “What? When?”

  “When you came to bed? I thought I heard you crying.”

  “No.” It rolled off her lips a little too quickly, and I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. “If Asher hurt you Flick—”

  “Hails, I don’t know what you think you heard, but you’re wrong. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. As for Asher, like I said, I don’t like him like that.” I’d known Flick since we were twelve. I knew her tells. The little things she did when she wasn’t being completely honest.

  And right now, I knew she was lying.

  But if Asher wasn’t the one who had upset her… who was?

  Thursday morning, things finally felt like they were returning to normal. I’d almost survived Rivals Week. There had been no more social media posts about me from Thatcher—he’d been too busy posting smack talk for tomorrow’s big game—and Jason, Asher, and Cameron left us alone for the most part. I knew Flick was feeling dejected by Asher’s recent change of heart where their blossoming friendship was concerned. But refusing to be thrown off course, she was focused on two things: her list and what to wear to Homecoming next weekend. The same Homecoming that despite recent events, she still insisted we attend.

  “Looking forward to the game Friday?” Kent asked me as I entered the kitchen. Barely awake, I grabbed a mug of coffee and then slouched down on one of the stools.

  “Game, what game?”

  “I know you don’t live under a rock, Hailee. It’s Rivals Week. Not even you can ignore that.”

  “Oh, I’m not going.”

  “Of course you are. It’s a big deal for Jason and the team, and we have tickets for the family section.”

  “Who’d you have to bribe to get extra?” Players were given two tickets each for their families and spares were like gold dust.

  “Coach Hasson,” he confessed, yanking on his tie as if the thing was too damn tight.

  “Is Mom going?”

  “She is. She wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Of course not. I swallowed the words.

  “I know things haven’t always been easy between you and Jason, but I’m really hoping that now we’re married, things will—”

  “Good morning.” Mom breezed into the kitchen looking far too bright and alert for seven thirty in the morning.

  “Good morning, wife.” Kent grabbed her as she passed him and kissed her with more gusto than I needed to witness. Ever.

  “Do you mind?” I snorted.

  Mom’s dreamy gaze slid to mine. “Morning, baby.” Her cheeks were flushed, and she sounded a little breathless. Gross. “How are you?”

  “I was okay until you came in and started sucking face with Kent.”

  “Did he tell you the good news?” She beamed, untangling herself from his arms and making a beeline for the coffee maker.

  “You’re going to let me go to New York for my eighteenth birthday?”

  “Nice try, but no, sweetheart. We have tickets for tomorrow’s game.”

  “Oh, that.” I gritted my teeth.

  “Hailee, this is important to—”

  “Jason. Yeah, yeah, I already heard a very compelling argument from Kent. If I agree to go, will you at least think about letting me go to New York?” One of my favorite artists had an exhibition coming up at The Met that I really wanted to see.

  My mom and Kent shared a glance and he gave her a little nod. “Fine,” she said. “If you come to the game Friday and the dinner Coach Hasson is throwing afterward, then yes, we’ll think about it.”

  Dinner at Coach Hasson’s? With the whole team and their families. I’d need reinforcements. “Is there a spare ticket for Flick?”

  “I’m perfectly aware the two of you come as a package deal, Hailee.” Kent gave me a warm smile. “Tell her we’ll pick her up before the game.”

  “Fine, then you have yourself a deal.”

  A football game, and dinner at Coach Hasson’s house, in exchange for a trip to New York for my birthday.

  It was a small price to pay.

  Later that day, I had a free period, so I headed to the studio. I’d only been there all of fifteen minutes when Mr. Jalin’s voice echoed through the room. “Ah, Hailee.”

  Dropping the brush onto the easel, I spun my chair to face him, pushing my glasses up onto my head. “Hi, Sir.”

  “Nice.” His thick-browed gaze swept over my canvas. “That’s looking really nice, Hailee. I particularly like what you’ve done with the broad strokes.” He moved closer, tracing the thick brush marks with his fingers, careful not to get too close. “You’ll be using this for your final submission piece?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good choice.” He offered me a reassuring smile. “I think you’ll do just fine.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Now for the real reason I’m here.” Clasping his hands behind his back, Mr. Jalin regarded me with a reserved expression. “You’re a very talented artist, Hailee. One of the best I’ve ever seen come through the doors of Rixon High. Coach Hasson and I were talking, and he wondered if this year, for the Seniors Night presentation, we tried something a little different.”

  “I- I’m sorry, I don’t understand?” The mention of the football team had me a little tongue-tied.

  “Every year, Coach Hasson likes to present his seniors with a memento. Usually it’s a photograph to mark their time with the Raiders. But this year, we thought it might be nice to include a painting.”

  “You want me to… paint the team.” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

  “Well, yes, unless there’s a problem?”

  “No, no, Sir, I just…” I wiped my clammy hands down my apron, a hundred reasons why this was a bad idea flooding my mind. But despite my inner voice screaming at me not to do it, all I could think was Mr. Jalin, Rixon’s Director of Arts; and Coach Hasson had asked me to do this.

  Me.

  “Seniors Night is a little over two months away,” he went on while I was still trying to process what this meant should I agree. “It’ll mean a lot of hours and you’ll need to spend some time with the senior players, get out and watch them practice, but I think you can pull it off.”

  “Is there a particular style Coach Hasson has in mind?” My thoughts began shooting over in a million direct
ions. Would he want something more traditional like a realism portrait or maybe something more fluid like an impressionist portrait? “Or do I have free rein?”

  “It’s all down to you, within reason of course.” His expression turned serious. “This is not something to take lightly, Hailee. This project could really help you make a name for yourself locally.”

  He didn’t need to tell me. For a small-town girl living in Rixon, it was the equivalent of being asked to do an exhibition at the Penn Museum or the Philly Museum of Art.

  “I’ll do it,” I said with conviction. I’d just have to worry about the finer details later when I figured out the direction, I wanted to take it. “Thank you, Sir, for thinking of me.”

  “Just remember, we need this to be a success, Hailee. I’ve been battling the school board for years to funnel more money into our Arts Department. This could be the start of a mutually beneficial relationship between us and the Athletics Department.”

  “I understand.” No pressure then.

  “Coach Hasson would like to brief you further, so if you could arrange to meet with him as soon as possible.” Mr. Jalin gave me a small nod before leaving me alone. It was almost as if the stars were aligning. Mom and Kent were insisting I attend the dinner at Coach Hasson’s house tomorrow night and now I had a valid reason to be there.

  But as I stared at my painting, getting lost in the swirls of blue and gray, nervous energy vibrated through me. Being around Coach Hasson meant being around the team. And being around the team meant being around Cameron; something I wanted to avoid at all costs. But this was too good an opportunity to refuse, and it would look great on my resume if I got accepted into Stamps. I’d entered the odd local show, and had some pieces displayed around the school before, but this could be a huge break for me.

  There was just one fatal flaw with the plan—getting Jason to play nice long enough for me to complete the project.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cameron