by L A Cotton
“No, sir.”
“I’m going to pin this to the noticeboard. Check it on your way to the field. I’ll see you out there in ten.”
The guys all jumped up and surged forward to try to get a look. Monroe was at the front, of course.
“Fuck yes.” He high-fived one of his friends. “Looks like you’re shit out of luck, Thatcher.” His mouth tipped in a smirk. “There’s always next season… oh wait, no there’s not.”
He and his crew exploded with laughter, jostling each other as they filed out of the locker room. Bryan cussed under his breath but went to check the notice.
“First-string.” Disbelief coated his words.
“Nice. You deserve it,” I said.
“At least we can hang out on the bench together,” Gav said around a strained smile. “You should have made first-string.”
“Yeah, so should you. But there’s an entire season ahead of us. It isn’t over yet.” He nudged his shoulder against mine. “Come on. Let’s go kill it on the field and show them what they’re missing.”
“Gav’s right, man. Your time will come.”
“Yeah.” I stood up, glancing at the list.
It fucking sucked, but I knew I wouldn’t see my name beside the first-string quarterback spot. Because this was Monroe’s team.
But I needed it. I needed to play football like my life depended on it.
I would never tell the guys because some things were private, but football meant more than just a full-ride to college. It meant making something of myself. It meant a ticket out of Rixon and away from my father. It meant knowing that I was worth something. That out of all the guys in my position, a team chose me. Wanted me because I was worthy.
Because I was good enough.
“Coming?” Bryan asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah, let’s do this.”
So I wouldn’t be starting at next Friday’s game. I’d be right there, waiting in the wings for my moment to shine. Eagle or Raider, it didn’t matter.
Put a ball in my hand and the only thing that mattered was winning.
Dawson Stadium was electric. I think every kid at Rixon High had shown up to support the Raiders. Rixon East loved its team, but not like this.
This was something else.
“Fuck me, this is intense,” Bryan whistled through his teeth as we stood behind Coach Ford. The cheer squad had just finished performing their routine and the crowd had gone wild for the Raiders mascot, a giant Viking head, currently strutting up and down the field.
“Rixon High,” Coach Ford boomed into the mic. “Are you ready to play football?”
The intensity of the crowd hit us like a forcefield, reverberating through me.
“Last season we went out there and showed every other team why we’re the best, why we’re the team to beat. This year it’s our title to defend, but by God, are we going to defend it.”
Another round of cheers detonated around us. The cheer squad was over by the sidelines, waving their pom-poms and doing their thing. Lindsey caught my eye and gave me a coy wave.
“She’s gagging for a piece of the Thatchman,” Bryan nudged my shoulder.
“Fuck off,” I grumbled.
“Use it or lose it.” He flashed me a shit-eating smirk and cupped his junk. “She’ll be at the party tonight, all limbered up and ready to—”
I elbowed him in the stomach, and he yelped. “I was only saying.”
“Yeah, well don’t.” I just wanted this night to be over. I didn’t want to go to the booster thing at Bell’s and rub shoulders with all the Raiders alumni and their supporters.
I hadn’t even told my dad about it. He wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of me socializing with the team.
Socializing with Coach Ford.
But I’d go and show my face. Because whether I liked it or not, this was my team now.
“And here’s the guy who’s going to get us there, your quarterback, Jenson Monroe.”
“Fucking asshole,” Bryan mumbled as we watched Monroe step up to the mic.
I zoned out at that point. I didn’t want to hear him spout shit about leading the team and taking them all the way to state.
“You sure about the booster thing, man? I don’t know, kinda feels like we’ll be the odd guys out.” Gav cast me a knowing look.
“Got to play nice for the team, right?” My lips pursed. “We’ll just go for an hour, show our face, and then we can head back home.”
“I heard Shannon is having a party tonight.”
Shannon was a girl from school, our old school. We’d hooked up a few times over the summer, then gone our separate ways when I’d found out I was going to Rixon High and she was going to Millington.
“Maybe,” I said. I didn’t want a repeat with Shannon, but maybe it would be good to hang out with our old friends.
The pep rally eventually came to an end, and we filed off the field. Monroe and his guys were up ahead, Aaron, Cole, and a couple of the other junior players behind them, and then me, Bryan, Gav, and the rest of our guys coming up behind.
“Senior year wasn’t supposed to go down like this,” Gav grumbled. He was quieter than Bryan, but the guy took everything in. Always observing, always assessing.
“Yeah, but here we are,” I said. “One season.” Mom’s words came back to me. “One season and then we only have to survive until graduation.”
It was better than not playing football at all. But when you were born to lead, to command a team and call the shots, it was a hard fucking thing to stand by and watch.
Especially when you knew you could do a better job.
“Look what the cat dragged in, the second-string.” Monroe howled with laughter, high-fiving one of his guys.
“Go fuck yourself,” I snapped.
“What did you say?” Monroe blew toward me.
“You heard me.” Shoulders squared, I matched his stance.
“Thatch,” Gav said. “He isn’t worth it.”
“Yeah, Thatch,” Monroe smirked, “you should listen to your guy. Or don’t… Take your best shot.”
He was baiting me. Hoping I gave him leverage to get me benched for the rest of the season.
“Do it,” he spat, whipping his head forward and stopping before he made contact. I didn’t flinch, just stood there, glowering at him. “Face it, Thatcher. You’re my bitch now.”
My fingers flexed, curling into a tight fist. But the sound of the coaches’ laughter made us both glance over at the door.
“What’s it gonna be, Thatchman?” A wicked glint flashed in Monroe’s eyes. He wanted me to fuck up. He wanted me to slip up before I even got the chance to show everyone what I was capable of on the field.
“You might be number one now,” I seethed, anger vibrating in my chest. “But the thing about being on top, it’s a long way down when you fall.” I dropped back and spun on my heel, heading for my bench.
“Get moving,” Coach yelled, glancing around at us. “We need to be at Bell’s stat.”
Bell’s was a bar downtown. The place was littered with Raiders paraphernalia, charting the team’s highs and lows over the years.
“Hey, look at this,” Bryan said, nudging me toward the wall. A huge photo of Coach with two other players took centerstage.
“That’s Cameron Chase; and Aaron’s dad, Asher Bennet.”
“I remember that day like it was yesterday,” a voice said from behind us, and we turned coming face-to-face with Aaron’s dad. “I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself the other night. I’m Asher. Asher Bennet.”
“It’s good to meet you, sir, officially,” Gav said, and I frowned.
Kiss ass.
“You must be Kaiden Thatcher.” He fixed his eyes on me. “I was sorry to hear about Rixon East. That’s got to suck the summer before your senior year.”
“It is what it is.” I shrugged.
“Dude,” Bryan whistled under his breath.
“It’s okay.” Asher chuckled. �
��I’m one of Coach Ford’s best friends. It’s understandable you’re wary of me. But I come in peace.” He held up his hands. “My son only has good things to say about you.”
“Not good enough,” I muttered.
“It’s only the first game of the season. Plenty of time to make your mark.” His mouth curved into a knowing smile.
“Hey, Ash, get over here,” Coach Ford beckoned him over.
“I guess that’s my cue.” He walked off and joined Coach Ford and some other guys.
The place was full of Raider alumni. I didn’t recognize them, but I felt their stares, their judgment. Everyone was worried about the season with Eagles in their nest. But Coach had made his choice crystal clear.
Just then, Monroe entered the bar with an older man. The two of them had that same cocky smirk and tawny eyes.
“Surprised you showed,” he said as he passed us. His old man didn’t even look twice at me as if I was nothing.
I bit my tongue, heading to the bar. Maybe being a Raider would have its uses if the fact half the team was drinking beer was anything to go by.
“Three beers,” I said.
“I’ll need to see ID.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m on the team with the rest of these assholes.”
“Sorry, kid. No ID, no beer.” His eyes dropped to my chest and I realized my error. Everyone else was in their jersey. Everyone except me and my guys.
“I guess I’ll take a soda then, or do you need to see some ID for that?” He rolled his eyes before getting my drink. The second I turned around I saw her.
Lily.
Surrounded by her friends, she looked as uncomfortable as fuck. Nothing like Lindsey and her cheer friends lapping up the attention and a good time.
Someone like Lily Ford wasn’t supposed to stand out, but in a room full of people, I only saw her.
“What are you doing?” Gav came over, leaving Bryan with a couple of our other guys. Before I could answer, he spotted what had my attention. “You like her.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I turned around and leaned on the bar.
“I think it does.”
“She’s Lily Ford.” A thin breath escaped my lips. “And I’m—what the fuck?” My eyes bugged at the sight of my dad standing in amongst all the Raider blue and white.
“Shit, man, is that—”
“Yeah.” I slammed my glass down on the bar and made my way over to him. “What the hell?”
“Is that anyway to greet your old man?” He sneered, glancing around the room, looking for something. Or someone.
“You need to leave,” I hissed, vaguely aware that we were already drawing an audience.
“Leave? I only just got here. It’s a party for the team and since my son plays for the team, I figured I should be here.” His brows drew together, and I smelled the overpowering scent of whiskey on his breath. “I mean, you do play on the team, don’t you?”
“Mom told you.” My shoulders sagged with defeat. I’d asked her not to mention anything to him, but she’d sold me out. Or worse, he’d made her tell him.
“You think I let you transfer to Rixon High so you can spend game night sitting on the bench? You can think again.” He barreled past me, but I managed to grab his arm and yank him back.
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded, feeling shame burn through me.
But he took off, melting into the crowd.
And my life was about to get a whole lot harder.
Chapter Eleven
Lily
Something was wrong.
I’d seen Kaiden arguing with an older man. It looked serious. Then the man had pulled away from Kaiden and disappeared into the crowd while he stood there, completely paralyzed.
“What’s wrong?” Ashleigh whispered. We were standing with Peyton, Poppy, and Sofia while they watched Aaron and Cole play pool. We always came to support the team and Dad.
“Nothing,” I said, glancing back at where Kaiden stood, only he wasn’t there anymore. “Can you see my dad?” I asked her.
“The last time I saw him, he was talking to Jenson and his dad over by the buffet table. Why?”
“No reason.” Except I had a sense of dread sitting heavy in my stomach.
We got sucked back into Peyton’s conversation. She was telling the girls about her date with Sean. Except it didn’t sound much like a date to me. But that was Peyton. She didn’t like to put a label on things.
“He does this insane thing with his tongue,” she said around a secretive smile. Poppy and Sofia giggled, hanging onto every word. “I swear, I saw stars.”
“I can’t believe you did it… in his car.”
“Technically, it was on his car.” She smirked, flicking her long hair over one shoulder. “But he’s texted me like five times since school got out.”
“And?”
“And we’re not together. He doesn’t need to check in every two seconds.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Poppy said.
“Sweet usually leads to catching feelings and I’m not looking to go steady.”
She was so sure of herself, but I saw the cracks. Peyton was afraid to let people in. Even in our small group she kept herself guarded. Not to me though. I saw the pain in her eyes, the vacant look she often wore. Peyton had attachment issues. It wasn’t any surprise given the crappy life she’d had at the hands of her deadbeat dad and junkie mom.
Ever since we’d made friends in ninth grade, Peyton had spent a lot of time at my house. At first, I just thought she preferred hanging out with my family. But then I noticed a pattern. She always accepted my mom’s offer to stay for dinner or sleep over. Then she started joining us for breakfast before school. Any excuse, and Peyton came over. The day she’d turned up with a bruised cheekbone was the last day we sent her home. My dad drove her to get her stuff and informed her mom Peyton would be staying with us until she got the help she needed.
Now she was as good as family, and my dad had another female in the house to contend with. One who was wild and reckless and a little bit broken. But my parents accepted her, flaws and all.
“Holy shit,” Ashleigh breathed. “Your dad is—”
I noticed them immediately. My dad and the guy Kaiden had been talking to, squaring up to one another.
“Oh God,” I choked out, realization slamming into me. “That’s Kaiden’s dad.”
“Shit,” Ashleigh said, but I was already moving toward them.
Kaiden reached them first. His eyes wide with concern. “Dad, we should go.”
“Not until I’ve said my piece, Son. Jason Ford… didn’t think I’d ever see this day. It’s been a long time.”
“Lewis,” Dad said coolly.
“I heard you benched my son for the opening game next week.”
“I didn’t bench him, Lewis. I already have a quarterback. Kaiden knows he’s got to prove him—”
“Prove himself?” He spat. “My son has one of the best records in state. I bet he’d run circles around the schmuck you have running—”
“Lewis, this isn’t the time or place,” Dad said, lifting his hands up slightly in a non-threatening gesture. “If you have a problem with how I do things, you can make an appointment and—”
“Make an appointment? You’re a high school football coach, not the goddamn town mayor.” He stepped forward, putting them chest-to-chest. They were matched in height, but Dad was a little broader and had muscles in places a lot of forty-something dads didn’t. “My boy has a lot riding on this season, and I’ll be damned if I let,” he jabbed his finger at my father’s chest, “a dried up has-been like you, ruin it.”
“You’re drunk. I suggest you go home and sleep it off before you do or say something you’ll regret tomorrow.” Dad knocked his arm off and turned to walk away, but Kaiden’s dad lunged for him.
“Dad, no!” Kaiden rushed over and grappled his father away.
“Someone get him out of here before he hurts himself.” Dad shook his head, anger simmering
in his eyes.
“Oh my gosh,” Mom appeared. “What on earth happened?”
“Two words, Aunt Fee,” Ashleigh said. “Lewis Thatcher.”
She went as white as a sheet. “I’d better go see to your dad, baby, okay?”
“Sure thing, Mom,” I said, watching as security ushered Kaiden’s dad out of the bar. He went after him, flanked by his friends.
“What was that?” Ashleigh laced her arm through mine.
“Just how much do you know about when our parents were in high school?”
“I know that Uncle Jason and Lewis Thatcher had some kind of beef, but that’s all. Why?”
“Erm, you might want to talk to your mom about that.”
“My mom? What does my mom have to do with it?”
“I—”
“Holy shit, that was intense.” Peyton bounded over to us. “Did you see Kaiden’s face? He looked mortified.”
“Yeah, well, I would have been too,” Poppy replied. “His dad was drunk. How embarrassing.”
My chest squeezed as I pictured the look of disappointment on Kaiden’s face.
“I’m going to speak to Principal Kiln,” I heard Mr. Monroe say to Jenson. “Drunken violence is not the way… the team does not need tarnishing with that kind of thing.”
“I heard Kaiden is a chip off the old block,” Jenson said. “There was an incident last season.”
“That boy spells trouble, just like his father. I’ll make some enquiries, Son. I won’t have one bad egg ruining your final season with the Raiders.”
Jenson caught my eye and I quickly averted my gaze. No one expected the assimilation of the Rixon Eagles into the Raiders team to be smooth, but this seemed unfair. Kaiden wasn’t his father, he shouldn’t be persecuted for Mr. Thatcher’s mistakes.
I glanced at the door again, wishing I could go after him. But I was the last person he would want to see. I got it now. Why he’d been so cold when he realized who I was. Mr. Thatcher hated my father. It had oozed from him like sticky tar, infecting the air around him.
“Girls,” Uncle Cameron beckoned over. “Are you all okay?”
“Yeah,” Ashleigh said. “But what was that just now?”