Filthy Forward : A Hero Club Novel

by Kelsey Cheyenne

  “God, this is so stupid,” I mutter and drag a hand through my blonde hair. I glance at my best friend, not wanting to say the accusatory words yet needing to all at the same time. “He, uh, he told me you blackmailed him and took his story to the media or something. I don’t know. It’s ridiculous,” I whisper so no one overhears.

  She doesn’t say anything. Her face forms a mask that slowly crumbles and gets replaced with spite. There’s a long pause and the air between us is full of both tension and confusion. Before Morgan has a chance to speak, Sam of all people barks out a laugh.

  “God, you’re fucking stupid. How could you not see what was right in front of you? Oh, right, because you’re self-absorbed and don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself.”

  She walks over to where Morgan and I are standing in the middle of the living room and slings an arm over my supposed best friend’s shoulders.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know, Bria,” Sam tells me, and if I could pick my jaw off the ground I’d be able to ask the questions I need answers to.

  “Why?” I stare at Morgan as Sam starts to speak. “Shut the hell up, Sam. I’m not talking to you. Tell me why, Morgan. What did I ever do to you?”

  “You stole my boyfriend and you practically stole Sam’s life.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? What boyfriend?”

  “Ben, you idiot.”

  “Ben? You wanted to date Ben? The serial cheater?”

  “You knew I liked him when you went out with him.”

  “Well, I think I got my karma when he cheated on me with anyone who walked past him and then tried to assault me.”

  “And he didn’t succeed.”

  “Excuse me?” My stomach drops and bile climbs up my throat.

  She rolls her eyes. “For fucks sake, he wasn’t going to rape you. He was going to film you and release the tape.” My jaw drops at her cavalier attitude. I can’t believe my ears. “You stomp around here like you own the place. You stole Sam’s captain position, her starting spot, and my boyfriend. Then you go around sleeping with our coach. You’re such a slut.”

  “You’re not special, which is why Tatum kicked you to the curb and got with Morgan instead.” Sam is smug but her story falls short. I’m glad I listened to my gut and chose Tatum, because my “best friend” is a lying, scheming, backstabbing bitch.

  “Really? Because last I checked, he fucked me in his bed an hour ago.” I stomp away, but the chilling tone of my arch nemesis stops me.

  “Maybe I should tell my sister that the predator fucked his player. She’s the one who broke the story about him anyway. You saw Meredith on the news, right?”

  “Your sister is Meredith Hale?”

  “Damn, you really are slow.”

  The two of them laugh and I run upstairs, ready to be sick.

  I can’t even relax in my room knowing I share it with the succubus herself. What am I going to do? Where am I going to go?

  I call Tatum but he doesn’t answer. With hesitance, I walk to Lindsay and Sydney’s room. I knock on the door and they both look up.

  “Did you guys know?” They’re confused. Apparently, they missed the show downstairs. “About Morgan and Sam and their vendetta against me.”

  “What?” Lindsay shoots off her bed and walks over to me. “No, what are you talking about?” Her eyes crinkle with concern and she leads me to her bed. I sit beside her and Syd comes on my other side.

  I tell them everything and they seem genuine when they tell me they didn’t know anything. I ask if I can crash in their room and they agree to let me.

  Even so, I can’t fall asleep. My mind is wired and I don’t feel like I can trust anyone. Between finals, playoffs, and now all of this drama, my brain won’t turn off.

  I just need to get through these last few weeks and then I’m one semester away from freedom. And hopefully, somewhere in there, things with Tatum will get squared away.

  Paxton mentioned Tatum wasn’t going to be with us for the rest of the playoffs. He didn’t say why or bring up the allegations or anything, but we all already know. The reminder of what my backstabbing not-so-best-friend did pisses me off.

  Lindsay and I team up for the next playoff game. We ice out Morgan and Sam despite Paxton yelling at us to pass the ball. We come out on top, beating the east coast school three to two.

  With the win, I call Tatum, but he’s still dodging my calls. I put my phone away and lean my head back against the seat. We have one more game on the road before we head back home to take finals.

  The days pass in a blur. I don’t even know the name of the next team we’re up against. All I know is we win by the skin of our teeth.

  On the trip home, I’m lost in my own world. Thoughts run through my head and though I keep trying to contact Tatum, I know I should stop. He’s being smart, not answering my calls. Even though I was part of this decision, it still stings.

  Finals pass in a heartbeat and I feel like my mind is both overflowing with information and somehow also devoid of everything I’ve learned.

  I’m waiting to hear back about a few grad schools I applied to since the whole becoming a soccer pro thing fell through. I still don’t know why I’m so upset over it since I never wanted it to begin with.

  I think it’s residual sadness and anger over everything else happening and I can’t seem to let it go. But now I’m back on track, applying to grad programs to study Occupational Therapy which is what I’ve always wanted to do.

  I guess I thought I’d be happier at the prospect of graduating. Instead, I’m already feeling the loss. The past four years have been nothing but a lie and now I’m faced with that fact every day.

  Morgan and Sam have been inseparable. I haven’t heard any more news about Tatum or him and me like I’ve been worried about. But now I’m living in the same constant state of worry he went through for months.

  Every day I try to call him. I miss him and want to hear his voice, and I want to tell him about everything. He should know why all of this happened. He deserves better than this. This was a vendetta against me, not him. Who knew our lives would be so intertwined and we’re not even together?

  I’ve thought about driving to his place to see him, but it feels wrong. He’s right—if someone saw me and people found out about us, he’d be in deep shit. Deeper shit than he’s already treading now.

  At the end of the day, I just hope he’s okay and I hope, somehow, we’ll find our way out of this.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Tatum

  “Well, that’s great news, isn’t it? Isn’t this what we’ve been waiting for all along?” Coach Murray is on the phone delivering some good news for once. I feel like the sky is finally opening up and the sun is starting to peek through.

  “Yes, but there’s a lot of baggage with it. We’ve met with Amanda and she’s agreed to speak publicly about the allegations and to set the record straight, that is, if we can trust her.”

  “I don’t see any other options right now, Coach.” He’s quiet, probably searching his brain for any other way to get me out of this.

  “I don’t either.” We hang up and I call Amanda. She already set up an interview to set the story straight, but it comes with a major stipulation.

  “Can you do it? This is a big step for me, Tatum, but I think it’s time. If we’re going to make this work, we have to start somewhere.”

  She’s right, it’s just not what I was expecting. Not anytime soon, anyway.

  “Yes, absolutely. Bring him over here. I’m excited to get to spend time with him.” She’s trusting me with Theo. I don’t have any experience with kids, but if I’m going to be his dad, I need to get used to him being around.

  I hang up the phone with her and call in the two people I can count on. I haven’t talked to either one of them since everything happened. To say it’s been crazy around here is an understatement.

  Amanda comes and drops the kid off with a smile. I’m grateful when she brings food an
d stuff for him, since my house isn’t quite equipped for kids yet.

  “Thank you for doing this.”

  “You’re helping me out more than you know,” she tells me.

  In another life, maybe she and I could’ve been together. We could’ve raised this baby and been a family. Unfortunately, in this lifetime and with all the drama preceding these moments, there’s no chance in hell that will happen.

  Not to mention, I’m in love with someone else.

  There’s a knock on my door and I already know who it is. “Come in,” I yell. In walks Chance, Aubrey, and CJ. I guess their son won’t exactly be able to play with mine yet, but he can start getting to know him now anyway.

  “There are so many things I want to say to you, but I need to censor myself because of the kids,” Aubrey tells me as she tosses her purse on the couch.

  I turn to Chance and he laughs. “She’s right, man. We have a lot to talk about.”

  Aubrey walks over to the carrier where Theo just woke up. She unclasps the harness and picks him up, rocking him from side to side. He coos and smiles at her and she smiles back.

  “He’s a big baby.”

  “Yeah, the doctors say he’s doing good.”

  “You’ve taken him to the doctors?” she asks.

  “Well, yeah. That was kind of the whole point. I mean, he needs a ton of visits with his history and Amanda can’t afford it.” I shrug.

  “Huh.” I glance from Chance to Aubrey, trying to decipher what she means from the one word.

  “Spit it out.”

  “Well, for his age, I’m not sure he’d be this solid if he were a preemie. I mean, I’m no doctor or anything, but I’m pretty sure he’d still be tinier and not as advanced. He would be measuring what a two month old would, but he’s acting like a normal four month old.”

  “Maybe he’s just a smart kid,” I grin.

  “Maybe.” I don’t like her tone.

  “What are you getting at, Aubrey?”

  She sighs. “Nothing. You got the paternity test, right?” I lift a shoulder.

  “We’re working on it.”

  “Wait, you haven’t done it yet?” She’s horrified and even Chance matches her expression.

  “We haven’t had the time.”

  “You just said you’ve been taking him to doctor visits. Seems like the perfect time to ask how to get one done.”

  The words surround my heart like a boa constrictor. I have to squeeze the words out. “You don’t think he’s my son.”

  “I don’t know, but it’s something we need to find out.”

  The thought paralyzes me.

  It’s the only thing I can think about as the hours pass and Amanda doesn’t come back. Then, an even worse fear takes root. What if she never comes back?

  The fear is eliminated around seven when there’s a gentle knock on my door. Pulling it open, Amanda is on the other side with bright eyes and an eager smile.

  When she steps into my place, her smile falters. “Hi. Tatum, who are—wait, I know you.” She tilts her head to place where she knows Aubrey from. “You’re a lawyer.”

  “Nice to see you again, Amanda.” Aubrey doesn’t confirm or deny the statement.

  “What are they doing here?” Her voice becomes gravelly and she fidgets. “I don’t like strangers around my kid.” I can’t argue with that. I go to apologize, only to be cut off.

  “Well, Theo is Tatum’s kid too, right? Which means he should have a say in who meets him and spends time with him, right, Amanda?” Aubrey’s tone is dangerous and accusatory. She’s threatening her without saying the actual words.

  “Right, but I should meet them first.” Amanda brushes her off.

  “Glad you agree. You did meet me first. So, we don’t have a problem here, right?”

  The tension in this room is suffocating and I’m ready for the standoff to end.

  “Say whatever you want to say, I’m not going anywhere,” Amanda states, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Actually, you’ll be going to court when we file a civil lawsuit.”

  “Aubrey, what the hell are you doing?” This is the last thing I need right now, but I don’t even think she hears me.

  “You see, even if you refuse a paternity test, the court would order one. Especially considering you’ve been using Tatum’s status and money for child support.” Aubrey pins Amanda with her glare and I never saw someone turn so white so fast.

  Heavy moments follow and she glances back and forth between me and Aubrey. After an eternity passes, she turns to me, her face crestfallen and full of fear. “Tatum, I think we should talk.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Bria

  It’s been almost a month since I saw Tatum last. I haven’t even spoken to him because he continues to ignore my calls. I saw Amanda on the news. I guess she finally came forward and told the truth. I’m happy for him, but his career is still up in the air. I thought when that aspect of things cleared up, he’d at least take my calls, but I guess I was wrong.

  Today’s the championship game and I wish he was here more than anything. I sit on the bench with my headphones in place as I tie up my cleats. A body stands before me, blocking the sun and I glance up. Paxton is there with a smile on his face. He crouches down so his knees are bent and he’s balancing on his toes to stay eye-level with me.

  “Campbell, I know you’ve been going through a lot lately, I can tell. But push it all to the side for today. This game isn’t about me or the team; it’s about you and how far you’ve come. You deserve to be here and you deserve the win. No matter what happens, I’m proud of you and I’m glad you were on my team the last four years. I’m gonna miss you, kid.”

  “Thanks, Coach.” He stands to walk away, but I stop him. Hey, Coach.” He turns around. I stand to meet him, not wanting the lingering ears to hear what I have to say. “When Coach Trevino showed up and started training with me, he told me it was your idea. It’s always bugged me. Why did you single me out and not work with the whole team?”

  His face scrunches up in concern and he shakes his head. “No, the solo training was his idea. I thought it was a good one, but I can’t take credit for it.” He walks away, oblivious to the fact that my heart is hammering against my chest. He chose me from day one. He also lied about it, but I’m going to choose to not focus on the latter.

  The championship game is against North Carolina. They’re a tough team to beat and I’ve been watching their plays. Number sixteen gets pushy while number seven has foot skills for days, but doesn’t know when to give up the ball. I know each of them better than they know me and I’m going to use the knowledge to my advantage.

  “Circle up, ladies.” We gather around Paxton who looks at us like a proud father. “This has been the best season to date. After this game, a lot of you are done with your college soccer careers. I know I’m going to miss each of you and I want to thank you for the hard work and dedication you’ve each put in. I know there were times it wasn’t easy and you wanted to give up. Every mile I made you run, every header you’ve practiced and crossbar you’ve hit has led you here. This is the culmination of an incredible season and an even better team. Whatever is going on in your head, push it aside. There’s no room for anxiety or nerves here because you don’t need it. You got here on talent and skill and a lot of hard work. You’re here because you deserve to be. And you are better than them. Let’s show them the west coast is better than the east coast once and for all. On three—one, two, three—”

  “PVU!”

  We take the field with Lindsay to my left. We didn’t win the coin toss, which means we start the game on defense. Sometimes you can learn a lot by starting this way. You can see how smart the other team plays, what their tactics are right out the gate, and who their power hitters are. But when you’re playing a team this good, no one wants to start on defense. It gives them the upper hand and the last thing I want to do is fall behind.

  The whistle blows and they start with
a drop pass to their midfielder. She’s quick and it’s no surprise why they gave her the ball. She finds an opening across the field and launches the ball to her teammate.

  The girl traps the ball with her chest and plays it easily down to her feet. She’s well past me now, hovering between my mids and our defenders. There’s a bit of keep away happening and my team can’t seem to find an opening to steal the ball. The original midfielder comes back, flying past our sweeper and launching the ball past Syd and into our net.

  One-nothing.

  Fuck.

  Lindsay and I line up at the half line and wait to get the ball back. Once we’re settled and the whistle blows, we start down the field. I take the ball and pass it to her when I get a chance. She finds Morgan and sends the ball to her, giving her an opening to charge down the field.

  “Ball, I’m open!” I call and Morgan glances up and sees me before sending the ball back to Lindsay who’s double teamed. North Carolina gets the ball back and races down the field while I chase down my ex-best friend.

  “What the hell are you doing? I was open.”

  “You had a man on you coming from behind. You would’ve lost the ball. It has nothing to do with you.” I have to take her word for it, but I’m not happy about it.

  I’m decidedly less happy when the team scores a second goal. This is going to be a long game.

  “Ladies, you’re playing sloppy and they’ve outsmarted you for forty-five minutes. You’re only down by two goals. You can come back in this half and win it. I know you can, but I’m going to change the lineup. We’re going to run three-four-three. Morgan, I’m pushing you up top with Bria and Lindsay. You three play together well and I need you guys on top of it. Can you do that?”

  “Yes sir,” we all say without even a hint of hesitation.

  “Good, now get back out there. We have a championship to win.”