by L A Cotton
My best friend jerked back, eyes wide with surprise. “I’m sorry, I think I heard you wrong because it sounded a lot like you said, you don’t want payback.”
Shrugging, I said, “I don’t. I’m done.”
“Did something else happen?” She frowned. “Something you didn’t—”
“You were right. It’s gone too far and if I don’t walk away, I’ll be the one who ends up hurt. I can’t play their games anymore. I’m done.”
Something had changed when Cameron kissed me, not that I’d ever admit it to anyone. For a split-second, I’d actually thought he wanted me. His kiss was too intense. His touch too desperate. And I’d almost fallen for it; hook, line, and sinker.
But now, I realized it was all part of the game.
A game that, until the moment his lips fixed against mine, I’d always been more than willing to play. I’d even considered myself a worthy opponent. The girl who refused to let the Raiders trample all over her. But something was different this semester.
Cameron had gone after the one thing I’d always protected.
My emotions.
He’d made me feel something. Things I didn’t want to feel. The rules had changed, and deep down, I knew if I kept playing the game, my reputation and sanity wouldn’t be the only thing on the line.
“Wow, Hailee Raine, could it be that you’ve finally matured?”
“Piss off.” I swatted her arm. “I just have more important things to focus on.”
“You mean like helping me with my list?” She looked so smug, and I muttered indignantly under my breath. “You owe me, remember?” Flick added, giving me her best puppy-dog eyes.
As we climbed out of her Beetle, and made our way into school, I couldn’t help but think I’d traded one form of torture for another.
“It’s like you’re invisible,” Flick whispered on Thursday as we sat in our usual place in the cafeteria.
“Good,” I mumbled around a mouthful of taco.
“Yeah, but I mean, it’s weird, right?” Her eyes flicked over my shoulder and I knew she was watching the football table. “After last Friday I kind of expected you to get some backlash.”
“Paul Rankle asked me if I do three-ways, and Finley Palmer asked me if I wanted to ride his dick in gym. I think that’s backlash enough.” There had been other things throughout the week: notes in English, and a couple of ‘offers’ at lunch, and every time I walked into class the room fell into hushed silence. But on the whole, no one said anything about Friday. I knew it didn’t mean people weren’t talking about it behind closed doors; they just didn’t want to risk pissing off their beloved football captain.
“I guess,” she said. “And I saw some stuff in the girls’ bathroom—”
“You did?” My eyes widened. “Of course, you did.” I let out an exasperated breath. Everyone knew girls were a cut above when it came to tearing into one of their own. Guys might have been the ones breaking hearts around here, but girls were the ones ruining reputations.
“It was probably Khloe and her bitch squad. You know she doesn’t like the idea anyone else is ‘riding Raiders for fun’.” She air quoted the last words and I chuckled.
“Khloe is welcome to them.” I discreetly glanced over my shoulder. Jenna Jarvis was draped over Jason like a bad rash while the rest of the gym team sat in amongst the team. My gaze ran straight over Cameron and the brunette cuddled up to him, and back to my friend. “Although it looks like the cheer squad is out and the gym team is in.”
“Well, those girls are extra bendy.” Flick mocked, and my face screwed up.
“There’s a visual I don’t need while I’m eating lunch.”
“So, about the game tomorrow—”
“Not this again, Flick. I already told you, I’m not going.” Attending a pep rally was one thing, but a football game? After last Friday, I couldn’t think of anything worse.
“But you have to come.” She pouted, giving me her best puppy dog eyes. “Or else I’ll have to go alone, and you wouldn’t want that, would you? Your best friend all sad and alone in a five-thousand strong crowd?” Her lashes fluttered.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t, you love me, and because you love me, you’ll come to the opening game with me.” It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer. But I did glare at her. Hard.
Flick’s soft laughter filled our little corner of the cafeteria. “It’s going to be so much fun,” she said.
“Yeah, maybe they’ll lose.” I smirked, the idea filling me with a sick sense of satisfaction.
“Hails, you can’t say that. It’s like bad luck or something.”
“Fine, fine.” I pumped the air with my fist. “Go Raiders.”
“Better,” she nodded with approval. “Much better. We’ll make a Raiders fan of you yet.”
We cleaned up our table and headed out of the cafeteria but when we rounded the corner, Cameron was at his locker. His head snapped up, his eyes fixed right on me. But as quick as they locked on my face, they slid away. As if I was no one.
As if he hadn’t kissed me the other night and then humiliated me in front of most of the school.
And the worst thing?
I didn’t know which hurt more.
Friday night, I found myself returning to the one place I never wanted to step foot in again. But my best friend was relentless, and in the end, I figured it was easier to get it over with now than spend all semester trying to dodge her advances. I’d half-expected her to greet me with a Raiders jersey and matching ball cap, but she’d said we could build up to that.
Like tonight would ever happen again.
“It’s exciting, don’t you think?” She shouted over the noise of the crowd as we filed into the bleachers along with the rest of Rixon. The whole town had closed down for game night and those who weren’t lucky enough to get tickets would be camped around their televisions ready to watch the Raiders’ opening game against Marshall Prep’s Musketeers.
“Exciting, yeah,” I grumbled as we found our seats. The field was already a hive of activity; the marching band performing while the cheer squad worked the crowd into a frenzy.
Like the night of the pep rally, the air was electric. But tonight was different. More, somehow. The crowd was hungry for it, the energy of five-thousand people crackling around the Dawson Stadium. But nothing could have prepared me for the surge I felt when the team tore through the huge blue and white banner.
“My heart is beating so hard,” Flick admitted, her eyes glittering with exhilaration, her skin flushed. She was one of them now. Her heart syncing to the thrum of the crowd, the beat of the band’s drum. A good friend would have been excited for her; pleased she was having all these new life experiences she could tick off her list. But I guess I’d lost my good-friend title when I hadn’t realized she wanted these experiences in the first place.
Imagine Dragons boomed across the field, barely drowning out the raucous singing as everyone chanted the lyrics at their beloved Raiders. My eyes immediately found number 1 and 42… finally landing on Cameron, the number 14 on his jersey standing out like a neon sign my eyes couldn’t avoid if I tried.
“Don’t hate me,” Flick pulled my attention, pressing into my side. “But I think I kinda love this.”
“I know,” I whispered, my stomach dipping. Because I did. She was radiant. As if being here, in the crowd, was her calling.
“Just promise me you won’t become one of them,” I replied, trying to school my disappointment.
“Them?” she asked, barely able to tear her gaze off the field.
“Yeah, a Khloe Stemson or a Jenna Jarvis. Promise me you won’t cross that line.”
Flick’s brows crinkled as if I was talking another language. But before she could reply, the team captains were called in for the coin toss. When Jason and his teammates stalked back to the rest of their team, she shrieked. “Yes! They won the toss.”
“They did?” I asked, having no clue about what was hap
pening down on the field.
“Yeah, see.” She pointed to Jason and Cameron and a few others who were now jogging onto the field. “It looks like they’re going to kick off to the other team.”
“And I’m supposed to know what that means?”
She shook her head gently. “Just watch, you’ll pick it up.”
“If you say so.”
“I do, now pay attention.” Flick nudged her head to the field, and I groaned.
It was going to be a long night.
Cameron
My muscles pinged with exertion, sweat rolling down my back and beading across my forehead as we huddled in the locker room, waiting for Coach. He strolled in with his assistant coaches, looking as cool as a cucumber.
“That’s how it’s done, ladies,” he said yanking off his ball cap and running a hand through his graying hair. “Offense, keep working hard, running those rush plays we’ve been practicing, and we’ll have Marshall eating out of the palm of our hand. Defense, keep them pinned down. Bennet, nice blocking, son. Their QB is completing three out of four of his passes but keep on him and he’ll get tired.” Asher grinned at me across the room and I rolled my eyes. “Watch out for their running back though, he has a tendency to go wide and slip our guys.”
“I’ve got it, Coach.” Asher held up his helmet. “No one is getting past me.”
“Real glad to hear it, Son. Now gather round.” He beckoned us in. “I know there’s a lot of pressure right now. People were disappointed when we didn’t make it past the first-round last year. Hell, I was disappointed, but this is a new season.” Low rumbles broke out around me as the guys remembered how it had felt to get eliminated thanks to Rixon East.
“Okay, okay,” Coach Hasson yelled over the noise, waiting for silence. “Let me tell you something about winning State. It isn’t about luck or which school has the best players or the most money, it’s about teamwork and heart. It’s about grasping every opportunity and turning it into something to be proud of. Don’t play for yourself, play for the other ten men on the field. The men watching you from the sidelines.
“This might only be the opening game, but right here, right now, you do what you do best; go out there and play like champions, do you hear me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I said, do you hear me?”
“YES, SIR.” Our voices melded together, echoing off the walls.
“That’s what I like to hear. Asher, Son, take it away.”
He moved into the middle of the huddle, eyes narrowed, shoulders squared. “Who are we?”
“Raiders,” we all yelled in well-rehearsed synchronicity.
“I said who are we?”
“RAIDERS.”
“And what are we?”
“Family,” our voices echoed around the room, reverberating through my chest.
“And what are we gonna do?”
“Win.”
“I said what are we gonna do?”
“WIN!”
“Damn right we are,” Coach yelled over the noise. “Now let’s go out there and play some ball.” He thrust his clipboard in the air, and we rushed out of the locker room, fists pumping, spirits high. Adrenaline coursed through me as I bounced on the balls of my feet, stretching my neck from side to side. Game night was always a high; addictive and all-consuming. For those forty-eight minutes there was no room to think about anything else but the win.
The roar of the crowd as we re-entered the field was deafening, the glare of the Friday night lights blinding. We were gods now, and this was our arena.
“Soak it up, bro,” Jase clapped me on the back. “This year is ours. You ready?” His eyes were dark, almost black. I’d never seen anyone get in the zone like he did.
Nodding, I pulled on my helmet, biting down hard on the mouth guard, and striding out to our end zone. Marshall were already on the field at the thirty-five-yard line, ready to kick off. Our players moved into position, waiting for the whistle. It sounded and their kicker punted the ball. My eyes fixed on it, tracking its projection as it sailed through the air, long and deep. “It’s yours, Fourteen,” someone yelled.
It kept flying, cutting through the air like a bullet. I dropped back, moving under the ball’s trajectory, lining myself up for the catch. I didn’t need to think, the actions were imprinted, instinctual like muscle memory. Knees loose, hands cradled, the ball landed with a thud and I tucked it into my body, locking my fingers around the leather.
“RUN!” Another voice yelled, echoed by Coach and his men on the sidelines, our four-thousand strong crowd in the bleachers. But I needed no encouragement, my eyes already scanning the field, anticipating the route home. Marshall’s blockers were already moving downfield, a wave of black and yellow coming right at me, but I saw an opening and took off, pumping my legs as fast as they would take me. Adrenaline fired up my synapses, shooting around my body like tiny bolts of lightning, propelling me forward.
I passed midfield into the forty, the stampede of Marshall players right on my tail but I kept pushing. Kept moving. Catching a blur of yellow and black in my periphery, I tucked myself in, bracing myself for the hit, but it never came, one of our guys slamming into their blocker, taking him out of the play. Thirty yards… twenty… ten; they couldn’t catch me now as I flew toward the endzone, nothing between me and the touchdown but fresh air. Slamming the ball onto the ground, I found myself jostled between my teammates as the crowd erupted.
“Ninety-five yards, baby,” Grady shrieked. “That’s how it done.” He fist-bumped me as we moved upfield for our kicker to try for the conversion. The ball sailed cleanly through the uprights giving us the extra point, taking our lead to thirty-eight to six. Marshall needed a miracle now to claw back a win.
As we ran back to the sideline, Jase collared me, pressing his helmet against mine. “That is why Penn wants you, that right there.” He gave me a rare grin. “One game down, another nine to go and then we’re going all the way.”
The conviction in his voice was deadly, and I knew Jason believed every word coming out of his mouth.
We would win State.
I would go to Penn with him.
And we’d have long and successful college football careers... together.
In his mind, there was no other option.
“Hey, you okay?” He grabbed my shoulder, eyes hard on my face.
“Yeah, I’m good.” The lie rolled off my tongue. “Come on, we have a game to win.”
We won forty-six to twelve in the end. Our offense was fast, our defense impenetrable. And in Coach’s words, ‘we outplayed them like a dream’. But the win was bittersweet.
After we’d left the field and gone back to the locker room, I’d picked up a voicemail from Dad saying they wouldn’t be able to attend the game. He’d left it ten minutes after kick-off. So while my teammates were all pumped about seeing their friends and family who were waiting outside to congratulate us, all I wanted was some air.
It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate people coming out to support us, I did, but it was a painful reminder I didn’t have the people I wanted most waiting for me in the gathered crowd.
“Good game, Cam,” Khloe sauntered over to me as I waited for the rest of the guys.
“Thanks,” I grunted, kicking at the dirt with my sneaker.
She moved closer and her tits brushed my arm. “Are you heading to Bell’s?”
“I’m not sure what the guys want to do yet.” Or if I even wanted to celebrate.
My eyes scanned the parking lot to where Asher and some of the other guys were signing autographs and taking photos with fans, while Jase and his dad talked to Coach.
“Well, maybe we could—” Her voice trailed off as I spotted Hailee across the lot, walking with Felicity to her ugly fucking car.
What was she doing here?
She hated football, almost as much as she hated Jason. And after the pep rally, I never thought she’d step foot in the place again. That was kind of the point. Yet, h
ere she was. Taunting me. Making me wish things were different.
“So, what do you think?” Khloe’s hand laid on my arm, and I glared down at her, frowning.
“What?”
“I said maybe we can hang out sometime, just the two of us?” Code for: she wanted to fuck me.
“Listen, Khloe, I’m not…” Hailee’s eyes found me, narrowing with contempt, hate radiating from her, even from all the way across the parking lot. Or maybe it wasn’t hate at all, maybe it was jealousy.
Slinging my arm around Khloe’s arm, I gauged Hailee’s face for a reaction. Her lips parted as her breath hitched. Bingo. Dipping my head to Khloe’s ear, I whispered, “I think you’d have better luck with Mackey. That kid is going places and I know he thinks you’re hot.”
Unlike me, who didn’t do sloppy seconds, most of the guys shared girls around.
“Yeah?” She smiled up at me, but I still had my eyes fixed on Hailee.
She watched for another second before shaking her head a little and climbing in her friend’s car. I’d wanted to get a rise out of her, to engage her after a week of us ignoring one another. It was supposed to make me feel better, to give me that tingle of excitement I felt whenever we interacted. But this time, all I felt was the bitter sting of dejection and a boatload of regret.
“Hey, man,” Asher came over. “Was that Hailee I just saw climbing in Felicity’s butt-ugly car?”
“Hailee? She was here? At a football game?” Khloe glanced over her shoulder with a sneer. “Wow, she’s got bigger balls than I—”
“I think I see Mackey over there,” I said, cutting her off.
“Yeah?” Hope sparkled in her eyes.
“Yeah, see.” I pointed over to where he stood with the rest of the guys. “You should go say hi.”
“O-okay. See ya.” She walked away with a bounce in her step and Asher said, “What the hell was that about?”
Shrugging, I kicked the dirt again, “I told her Mackey was into her.”
“He’s into anything with a pussy.”
“Lucky for her then.”