The Trouble With You

by L A Cotton

  “But how can you...” The words died on the tip of my tongue. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that, Dad, not when she’s—”

  “Ssh, Son, ssh.” He pulled me into a hug, holding me tight. “We’ll get through this, I promise. I just need you to be strong. Can you do that for me?”

  Too choked to reply, I gave him an imperceptible nod. Dad’s hand squeezed the back of my neck, lingering, as if he needed this moment as much as I did. When he pulled away to look at me, I saw the fear in his eyes. It mirrored my own. “Business as usual though, for now, okay?”

  I swallowed, the dry air rough against my throat. Dad brought his head to mine and inhaled painfully. He didn’t say anything this time; he didn’t have to. Nothing was okay and everything was on the line. And part of me was pissed they’d kept this from me. But they were the adults, the decision makers. They got to choose how and when to break the news to their kids. Of course, Xander was too young to understand. All he knew was his mommy got sick sometimes, she shouted and cried and then held him tight and apologized over and over. And it was messed up but part of me envied him. On some level, his innocence would protect him from things to come.

  My stomach plummeted. “I need to go,” I rushed out, stepping out of Dad’s embrace.

  “Cameron—”

  “I’m fine, Dad. I just need some air.” And I needed for him to not be looking at me like that. Like the worst had already happened. “I have practice after school, so I’ll be late.”

  “Xander will be at Katie’s. Me and your mom will be—”

  “Yep, got it.” I grabbed my bag and keys and waved him off. It was a dick move. But I didn’t know how to deal with this, how to handle the anger and fear festering inside of me. I didn’t know how he expected me to go to school and play football like everything was the same.

  When really nothing was ever going to be the same again.

  We were all gathered around Coach Hasson for his pre-game pep talk. The last twenty-four hours had been a daze, my mind occupied with only two things: Mom; and this crap with Jase, Thatcher, and Hailee. She hadn’t looked twice at me all week and I felt lost. It was crazy, how the one girl I’d spent the best part of six years keeping at arm’s length had become the one girl I wanted by my side more than anything. I’d contemplated trying to talk to her again, to explain, but deep down, I didn’t know what I would say. And if she rejected me again, I wasn’t sure I could handle that.

  “Fourteen, your head screwed on right, Son?”

  “Sure, Coach.” My helmet hung in my hand as I nodded.

  “St. Odell have some big players. Keep your eyes open and your head down, you hear me?”

  A round of grunts filled the locker room. “This is the one, ladies. We win this and there’s no stopping us. We’re the ones to catch, the ones to beat.” His steely eyes ran over each one of us. “Gather in, Raiders on one.”

  The locker room electrified as we prepared to run out onto the field. I focused on the huge blue and white ‘R’ painted beside the door; our lucky charm, a reminder of who we were and where we were going.

  “Hey,” Jase came up beside me after the circle broke up. “You good?” It was the first time he’d tried to talk to me outside of practice in three days.

  “If you’re worried I won’t get the job done,” I ground out. “I will.”

  “Chase.” He snagged my wrist and I glanced back at him. “Come on, that’s not...” A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “This shit between us, it doesn’t feel right.”

  “Yeah, well, a lot isn’t right anymore.” I shrugged him off and joined my teammates as we poured onto the field under the bright Friday night lights, silently praying I could make it through the next hour.

  Hailee

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I whisper-hissed at Flick as we sat wedged in between a sea of blue and white.

  “Call it research.” She flashed me a droll smile.

  “More like a slow and painful death.”

  “Really, Hails? You’re telling me not even a tiny part of you wants to be here to cheer him on?” Her brow rose, her expression dubious.

  “Cheer who on?”

  She gave me a knowing smirk. “If you think for one second that I believe this thing between you and,”—my best friend leaned in closer making sure no one around us could hear, not that anyone could over the simmering noise—“Fourteen is over, then you’re more foolish than I… oh, here they come.”

  Imagine Dragons blasted over the PA system, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Only it didn’t spark the adrenaline in my veins the way it had before. Not when I’d spent the last week trying to avoid my peers, which was hard when you spent almost seven hours of the day with them. As if that wasn’t enough, the atmosphere at home was toxic. And Cameron had barely looked at me all week. So sitting in amongst four-thousand Raider fans, cheering the team onto victory, wasn’t exactly my idea of escaping all the shit going on in my life.

  But Flick was nothing if not persistent, and if I pretended really hard and tried to avoid searching out Cameron across the field, I could kind of convince myself I was here for research purposes only.

  Well, almost.

  Going into the fourth quarter, the game was tied. It had been hard to watch. Something was wrong in the Raiders camp, everyone felt it. My step-brother was pissed, yelling at his teammates every time they fumbled the ball or didn’t make the play, and Coach Hasson looked ready to blow a gasket on more than one occasion.

  “This should have been a walk in the park for them,” Flick grumbled beside me. She’d really found her stride as the team’s latest fan, the blue and white ball cap sitting proudly on her head. “Come on,” she yelled as our defense took down one of the St. Odell Saints offense; the crowd responding with a ferocious roar.

  The players switched, my eyes tracking number fourteen as he jogged onto the field, moving into position. Jason yelled the play, and there seemed to be a collective intake of breath around the stadium as he hiked the ball to Cameron who took off down left field, right under its trajectory. The crowd was enraptured, a crackle of anticipation in the air, as he hooked his hand up ready to receive the ball. It was a good pass, an even better catch, and the crowd went wild, the noise deafening.

  “Go, go,” Flick yelled, her fingernails digging into my arm so hard I felt sure they might draw blood.

  But I didn’t cheer, I couldn’t. My eyes were too focused on Cameron, the way he cut through the air, his strong legs eating up the yard markers. Thirty... twenty... ten.

  “Oh God,” my best friend breathed as the world slowed down. A Saints lineman appeared out of nowhere, set on a collision course with Cameron.

  “Flick,” my voice quivered as I watched, along with the rest of the crowd, as the huge defensive player ploughed into Cameron, knocking him into the air. His body sailed backward and he landed hard. The whole place winced, the four-thousand strong hiss of breath making my hair stand on end, nervous energy churning in my stomach.

  It wasn’t my first game. I’d seen other players take a hit. Watched as bodies were strewn across the field like rag dolls, but I’d never felt the impact before.

  “Flick.” My voice no longer sounded like my own as I clutched onto my friend while watching players swarm Cameron’s lifeless body.

  “He’s fine,” Flick said, her voice catching. “He’ll be fine. Players take hits like that all the time.”

  But he didn’t look fine.

  He didn’t get up and shake it off the way players usually did. He just lay there, unmoving.

  Deathly still.

  Dread washed over me, sending my heart into meltdown as it crashed violently against my chest. Game officials were on the field now, attending to Cameron, who still hadn’t moved. Why isn’t he moving? Jason ripped off his helmet and began to pace beside his best friend, dragging a hand through his damp hair, back and forth, over and over, while Asher looked on with the rest of their teammates.

&
nbsp; “Get up,” I breathed.

  Why isn’t he getting up?

  After what felt like an eternity, Cameron slowly sat up and the entire stadium took that first breath with him. “Thank God,” I gasped, barely able to get the words out over the lump in my throat.

  Two officials helped Cameron to his feet, and Jason and Asher flanked his side as they ushered him to the team’s area on the sideline. A slow round of applause built around the bleachers until everyone was on their feet clapping for their beloved number fourteen.

  Play quickly resumed, as if my world hadn’t almost ended, and the Saints took their offensive position. But I was too busy watching Cameron. He’d taken his helmet off now, his head hung low as one of the assistant coaches and the medical staff checked him over.

  “Something’s wrong,” I said reaching for Flick when he leaped up throwing his helmet down and began to walk away. Jason went after him, the two of them locked in a battle of wills as Cameron glared at him and then mouthed something I couldn’t decipher, my distance making it too difficult to read his lips.

  “Is he...?” Flick swallowed her words as we both watched Cameron stalk off the field without so much as a backward glance.

  “He left,” I said, stating the obvious, feeling my stomach sink into oblivion. “He just left.”

  “Maybe you should go after him,” Flick suggested.

  “What?” I blinked at her. I couldn’t think straight. Something didn’t feel right. He’d been hurt, yes, but he’d seemed okay walking off the field, so what the hell had happened in those few minutes between him sitting down and storming off?

  And then it hit me.

  His mom.

  Oh God, what if something had happened with his mom?

  He’d been off his game all night; fumbling passes and misreading plays. Even a rookie spectator like me could see Cameron’s head wasn’t in it.

  “There’s only a few minutes left on the clock.” Flick nudged me. “If you sneak out now, you’ll miss the crush. He’s probably in the locker room.”

  “Flick, I can’t just...” She gave me a pointed look and I shook my head a little, hardly able to believe the next words out of my mouth.

  “You’ll be okay?” I asked.

  A wry smile tugged at her lips. “Please, I was born for this.” She tipped the bill of her cap. “Besides, I want to see them stick it to the Saints.”

  “Okay.” I inhaled deeply. Was I really about to try and break into the Raiders’ locker room?

  Yes, yes, I was.

  Because if Cameron was hurting, I wanted to be there for him. I wanted to comfort him the way he’d comforted me.

  With a small nod, I apologized to the people on our row as I squeezed my way to the end. By the time I reached the bottom of the bleachers I was breathless and a little disoriented, but I quickly found my bearings and slipped into the stadium, making my way around the other side to where the locker rooms were. The crowd erupted overhead, the vibrations echoing throughout the place, making my pulse spike. From the ferocity of the roar, I knew the Raiders had scored, even before the PA system made the announcement.

  When I finally reached the blue doors, I paused. I couldn’t just burst in there. What if Cameron was showering? Or receiving medical attention?

  What if he didn’t want to see me?

  Suddenly feeling way out of my depth, I leaned against the wall right opposite the doors. The game would be over in a couple of minutes which meant it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the team would be in there.

  “Excuse me, miss.” A security guard approached me. “You can’t be down here.”

  “I... hmm, I’m Hailee Raine.” Recognition flashed in his eyes, but he let me finish. “Jason Ford’s step-sister. I need to see him.” It was the first thing that came into my mind.

  “Well, of course.” He smiled warmly at the mention of Jason. “Your brother played a great game tonight. Go Raiders.” His eyes lit up as he fist-pumped the air. Realizing his momentary slip, he cleared his throat, his professional mask sliding back in place. “You can’t go back there, but I’d be happy to let him know you’re waiting out here.”

  Shit, that wasn’t what I wanted.

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded politely before slipping through the off-limits doors. I sank down on the cold floor, drawing my knees up. I should have snuck inside before the team came back. But it was too late now. I’d have to wait.

  And I’d just have to hope that when he appeared, Cameron would talk to me.

  Sitting there on the hard floor, I learned something new about football players—they liked to take their damn time in the showers. Thirty-five minutes after the stadium emptied, the players finally began to trickle out, hardly paying me any attention, too focused on whatever party they were heading to, no doubt. But when Asher and Jason appeared, I jumped to my feet and stepped forward.

  “Hails, what a surprise.” Ash gave me an easy smile, but I didn’t miss the tightness around his eyes.

  “I, hmm...” This wasn’t awkward at all. “I came to see if—”

  “He’s gone.” Jase’s voice was cold, his eyes hard as they studied me. But surprisingly, for once, I didn’t feel like his contempt was aimed at me.

  “Gone?” I choked out.

  But I’d been waiting here above forty minutes. Unless... crap. Cameron must have come back here, grabbed his things, and left the stadium immediately. In which case, I’d just missed him.

  My stomach sank.

  “So I’ll let you guys talk.” Asher gave me a nod before throwing his bag over his shoulder and addressing Jason. “Call me later if you want to hang.” He took off down the long hall, and Jason let out a heavy sigh, moving to lean against the wall beside the door right opposite me.

  “I never thought I’d be here.” He broke the silence.

  “You and me both.” One of my shoulders lifted in a small shrug as I kicked my foot against the floor.

  “I’ve never seen him like that, not in all the years I’ve known him. It’s like he wasn’t even on the field...”

  “I think something is wrong.”

  “Wrong?”

  “Yeah.” I gulped wondering how much I should tell him. “With his mom.”

  “She has depression or some shit. I think having Xander screwed her up.”

  “Jason,” I scolded, wishing I knew what had happened to him to make him so mean. “It’s more than that. Maybe if you weren’t so...” I let the words die on my tongue. I wasn’t here to argue with him. I just wanted to be there for Cameron.

  “Go on, say it. You think I’m too invested in football to see what’s really going on here.”

  “Aren’t you?” I clipped out.

  “I... fuck.” Jason’s expression hardened but then softened when he let out an exasperated breath. “Something is really happening with his mom?”

  I nodded. “I think so. He told me some things.”

  “What things?” That got his attention.

  I pressed my lips together in defiance. It wasn’t for me to reveal Cameron’s secrets.

  “He never said anything to me,” Jason added when I didn’t offer an explanation.

  “Are you sure? Maybe he was trying to tell you all along and you just weren’t listening?” My voice rose, the tension between us rising with it.

  He dragged a hand through his unruly brown hair, his eyes darkening. “You should go after him.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t think this means I’m cool with the two of you. I’m not. But if what you say is true, Chase needs someone right now, and I’m probably the last person he wants to see.”

  “Jason,” I sighed. “You’re his best friend.”

  “A pretty shit one at that,” he grumbled.

  I was stunned speechless. Never once, had I heard Jason own up to his shortcomings. He was always so arrogant and cold. Infallible. Yet, he looked completely lost tonight; the fire in his eyes extinguished to nothing more than a dy
ing flame.

  “He’ll come around,” I said without doubt. Because the bond between the three of them exceeded right and wrong, good and bad. They were brothers. Bound together by invisible threads I would never truly understand.

  “Just tell him I’m sorry,” he said, and something passed between us. A mutual understanding I never thought we’d have. “Can you do that for me?”

  Too choked to reply, I nodded.

  “And Hailee?” He wasn’t done. “What Thatcher did; it went too far, and for that, I am sorry.”

  I gaped at him unsure I was hearing correctly. This would forever go down as one of the most surreal moments of my life.

  But I’d take it.

  If it finally meant not being on the opposite side of the line from Jason, I’d take it.

  Flick agreed to drop me off at Cameron’s house. The ride over was quiet. I was too lost in my thoughts to really answer any of her questions. And there were many. I was thinking about the strange conversation with Jason. Distracted by the apprehension churning through my stomach.

  Eventually though, she’d shut up and accepted silence as the soundtrack for the short journey.

  “Are you sure about this?” Flick finally said as we pulled up outside his house.

  “No, but I have a really bad feeling.” Players didn’t just storm off the field without good reason, not Raiders. And especially not star wide receivers.

  “Should I wait...”

  “No,” I said. “I’ve got this.” Besides, if the worst-case scenario became reality, and Cameron slammed the door in my face, I wouldn’t want anyone to witness it.

  “Okay, then, go get ‘em, tiger.” Flick reached over and squeezed my hand, offering me a reassuring smile. I climbed out and walked up to the Chases’ door. The house was blanketed in darkness, no sign of life. Cameron’s truck was parked in the driveway, but his dad’s car was missing. I didn’t know whether that was a good sign or not.

  Taking a deep breath, I glanced back at Flick who gave me a thumbs up before pulling off and disappearing into the inky night.