Heart Stopper: Rebels of Rushmore Book One

by Hercules, Michelle

  31

  CHARLIE

  I take back everything I’ve ever said about football. Being in the stadium, feeling the contagious energy of the crowd, made me understand why people love it so much. I still don’t know most of the rules, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

  There was also the added bonus that I wanted the opposing team to lose badly all thanks to the encounter with those bullies earlier, and the Rushmore Rebels delivered. It was a hard game, and the score remained tight throughout the entire three and a half hours, but in the end, the Rebels won. My voice is hoarse from screaming.

  Troy texts me that he might not be able to sneak out to ride with us. I totally understand. This victory was amazing, and I’m sure the celebration in the locker room is crazy right now. I tell him not to worry. His reply is to let him know when we’re in the food court and he’ll try to make it.

  The crowd is slow to leave, and since we’re all the way down, it takes at least ten minutes for our row to move. Ben and I file out, and then we trudge along with the rest of the people. It feels like an eternity before we finally reach the top of the stairs. I get out of the traffic headed for the exit and look for a quieter spot to text Troy back.

  He’ll be here in a few minutes, so I wait, keeping my eyes peeled and searching for him in the crowd. But I find someone else first, and I wish I’d missed her altogether. Brooke, Troy’s beautiful friend, is coming in my direction. It’s too late now to pretend I didn’t see her, and it’s clear she’s making a beeline in my direction. She’s with a friend, a brunette just as tall as she is but not as pretty.

  “Hey. Charlie, right?” Brooke asks me with a phony smile plastered on her face.

  “Yep. How’s it going?”

  “Oh, pretty good. So, you and Troy, huh?”

  I knew she had ulterior motives for coming to speak to me. Thanks to my snooping of Troy’s Instagram profile before my interview with him, I know they’re close, probably dated at some point. But he’s never mentioned her, so I wasn’t going to ask. Judging by Brooke’s fake friendliness, my assumption was correct. If they didn’t date, then she has a major crush on him.

  Too fucking bad.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t get it,” the friend says. “Weren’t you the girl who wrote that nasty article about him? Why would he date you?”

  I narrow my eyes for a second, but when I reply, it’s with a saccharine smile. “You know what they say: there’s a fine line between love and hate. I guess we were just bound to cross it.”

  “Oh, so now you think Troy is in love with you?” She scoffs. “In your dreams.”

  “Tammy, please.” Brooke touches her friend’s arm as her face twists into an expression of discomfort.

  Yeah, I’m not buying it.

  The ugly brunette takes a sip of her soda first before replying, “What? I was just saying what everyone knows. Troy doesn’t love anyone but himself.”

  Whoa. Maybe we have more than one scorned woman here, not only Brooke.

  “I’m pretty sure his only problem is that he has high standards,” Ben says before I can.

  “Oh my God. The retarded boy speaks.” The bitch looks at Ben with disdain, an expression I know too well. What she doesn’t know is that every bully who has taunted my brother because of his Down syndrome has paid the price.

  Brooke gasps, looking genuinely shocked by her friend’s comment. It doesn’t matter. My vision has already turned red, and before anyone can stop me, I pull my arm back and punch the bitch in the nose.

  Her head jerks back right before she screeches, creating a commotion. “What the hell! You broke my nose.”

  Unlikely, since I didn’t hear anything crack.

  My pulse is pumping in my ears when I reply through clenched teeth, “Be glad that’s all I broke.”

  Troy appears suddenly, breaking through the crowd to get to us. “What happened?”

  “That filthy whore broke my nose.” The girl points at me.

  “You called her brother the R-word,” a lady I hadn’t noticed until then cuts in. “It’s because of disgusting, prejudiced people like you that there’s still a stigma today if people are different.”

  Wow. I didn’t expect anyone to stand up for me. Her defense brings tears to my eyes.

  She glances at me and smiles as a way to say she has my back.

  Troy turns to Brooke. “That’s the company you keep nowadays?”

  “They were both out of line,” she retorts, crossing her arms.

  “I want to go. Can we go, Charlie?” Ben asks, clutching the sleeve of my jacket. His small voice breaks me.

  I pull him into a side hug, ignoring the throbbing in my hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  I’m too angry to check if Troy is following me. I just want to get out of here. The onlookers are smothering me.

  A second later, he places his hand on my lower back and, using his body, makes way for us to pass. I never considered myself a damsel in need of a savior, but Troy’s protectiveness feels nice.

  We continue in silence until we get to my car. When I grab the door handle, I realize I’m still shaking and in no condition to drive.

  Troy circles my wrist, keeping me from opening the door. “I’ll drive.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t drive with your shoulder like that.”

  “You’re still reeling from what happened.” He frowns. “Your arm is shaking.”

  “I can drive,” Ben pipes up.

  I glance at him with a refusal on the tip of my tongue. He can drive in Littleton, which is much quieter than here.

  “I can do it, Charlie. Trust me,” he insists.

  “You have your driver’s license?” Troy asks.

  “Yes. I’ve had it for four months already.” Ben puffs his chest out proudly.

  Troy turns back to me, concern in his eyes. “Let him drive, babe.”

  I want to argue, but if I say anything, it might do more harm than good. I know my brother—he’s putting up a tough front, but he’s a mess inside. Growing up, he fought depression among other things because of assholes who treated him badly.

  “Okay,” I say. “But I’m sitting shotgun.” I walk around the car, leaving Troy no choice but to slide across the back seat.

  During the drive, I expect him to ask for details about what happened, but he keeps quiet. The silence becomes a heavy blanket of discomfort, and I eventually can’t take it anymore.

  “The game was amazing,” I pipe up, turning to face Troy in the back seat.

  He nods. “It was, but hell, I was a wreck the whole time. I thought I was going to lose my voice with the way I was shouting.”

  “I kind of lost mine,” I say.

  Troy smirks. “Hmm, I did notice a new sexiness to it.”

  “Dude, I’m right here,” Ben complains.

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  I laugh despite the horrible way the day ended.

  “Is there any chance you would consider going to the party with me tonight?” Troy asks softly. “It’s going to be epic.”

  I bite my lower lip, torn between a straight “No” and a “Maybe”. After the altercation with Brooke’s friend, and the way the blonde was acting all shady, I do want to show up at the party as Troy’s date. Call it vanity or whatever with a pinch of possessiveness. But there’s Ben to consider.

  “I don’t know. Are there going to be more people like that airless bimbo who name-called Ben?”

  Troy winces. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “You should go, Charlie,” Ben says. “I think I’m ready to go home if Mom is feeling better.”

  My stomach bottoms out, and my chest, which was already tight as hell, constricts further. Ben staying with me was a way to distract him from the turmoil back at my folks’. I feel guilty, even though it’s irrational. I can’t control what ignorant people say or do.

  “If that’s what you want.”

  Ben nods. “Yeah, it is. I had fun today though.”

>   I watch his profile, trying to sniff out the lie. His expression is serene, but Ben’s always had a better poker face than me.

  If he spirals down a dark tunnel again because of that bitch, I will break her nose for real the next time I see her.

  32

  TROY

  I confess that knowing Charlie went Million Dollar Baby on Brooke’s friend made my admiration for her grow. I’d already known she was fearless and short-tempered, but her fierce protection of her brother moved me more than she could have known.

  It also opened up old wounds that have never fully healed. I failed Robbie by not paying attention, and he drowned a few feet from me. Erroneously, I thought that was my parents’ job, but they made it abundantly clear that I should have kept an eye on him. I was his big brother, after all. They weren’t wrong, and the guilt has consumed me ever since.

  Their mother came by to pick up Ben earlier, and with that, Charlie had no valid excuse not to come to the party with me. Regardless, I thought I’d have to use my convincing skills, but she surprised me by agreeing to come without me having to ask twice.

  We had an early dinner, and now I’m waiting for her to get ready. I never asked if she’d bought any of those sexy tops she was looking at. They were nice, but I’d prefer if she wore a dress again. I love her legs; plus, a dress would give me easier access. I’m already over our bet. Life is too short, and I’m not going to keep punishing myself over nothing. God knows I already do that plenty with reason.

  I’m nursing a beer while I wait. The only good thing about not being able to drive until the sling is off is that I don’t have to worry about my alcohol intake.

  I turn when I hear Charlie come down the stairs. Those old wooden boards creak so loudly that even the neighbors must hear when one of us goes up and down.

  My jaw drops as I drink her in. She’s not wearing jeans—thank fuck—but a short black pleated skirt with a spiked belt looped around her hips. Her top is a vintage Highlander T-shirt with the movie’s catch phrase “There can be only one” typed across it. There are a bunch of headless dude icons and one with his head still attached, holding a sword. Man, I need to get me one. It’s awesome. But what really completes the look and causes a stir in my jeans is the leather jacket and the over-the-knee fuck-me boots she’s wearing. I won’t be able to leave her alone tonight, or jackasses will be all over her.

  “Hi. What do you think?” she asks with a cheeky smile. She knows perfectly well she looks hot as sin.

  “Okay, I changed my mind. Let’s stay home so I can get you out of those clothes stat.”

  She chuckles, shaking her head. “No way, Jose. I didn’t spend an hour getting ready for you to destroy my look with your caveman urges.”

  I cross the distance between us in two long strides and pull Charlie flush to my body. “Oh, babe. You’ll know how caveman I can be when I bend you over that couch and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”

  “What are you saying, Troy? Is that your declaration of defeat?”

  The “Yes” is on the tip of my tongue, but when I do say it out loud, I’m going to make good on my promise and pound her into oblivion. Damn it. Thinking about it is making my cock rock hard in a painful way.

  “Hmm, no. This is my declaration of victory when you come to your senses and admit you can’t resist this sexy machine.”

  A bubble of laughter escapes her throat, dousing the furnace inside me.

  “Okay, Mr. Sexy Machine. We’ll see how the evening goes.”

  I step back and then hold up her right hand for inspection. It’s still a bit red, but the swelling has gone down. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not so much. It was a good call putting ice on it when we got back.”

  “I can’t believe I missed the punch. I would have loved to have seen that.”

  She pulls her hand back as her face twists into a scowl. “It felt good punching her in the moment, but it doesn’t erase the ugliness that came out of her mouth. Words can’t be unsaid.”

  “I know. I’m so fucking mad about what happened. I can’t believe Brooke would be friends with someone like that.”

  Charlie tilts her head to the side as if she’s scrutinizing me. This is the moment when I should tell her about my past with Brooke, but I really don’t want to get into it right now.

  “She’s your ex, isn’t she?”

  Well, damn. So much for not talking about it. “Yeah. We dated in high school and through my first year of college.”

  “Why did you break up?”

  “She went to school in New York, and the relationship fizzled with the distance.”

  “She’s back now.”

  “Charlie, Brooke and I broke up over two years ago. There’s nothing going on between us. We remained friends while she was away, but since she came back, we haven’t really talked.”

  “Besides when she came over to check on you.” She quirks an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, and that was the last time. Why are you asking me all these questions? Please tell me you’re not jealous.” I smirk, guessing she is.

  She snorts. “No. But if I’m asking all these questions, it’s because you haven’t provided the information yourself.”

  “Didn’t think it mattered. I mean, I don’t hang out with her all the time, unlike you and your ex Blake.”

  She throws her hands up in the air. “Oh God. Please don’t be one of those possessive boyfriends who doesn’t tolerate their girlfriends being friends with guys.”

  “Let me make myself clear. I’m only a caveman in the bedroom, and trust me, you’ll like it.”

  She narrows her eyes. “I’m beginning to suspect you’re referring to the tweet I wrote.”

  “Oh, when you called me a Neanderthal?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I swear that wasn’t the case.” And I’m not lying. I had forgotten about that stupid tweet. “Grab a drink before I call an Uber. We’re supposed to be celebrating tonight.”

  She sighs. “Okay. You’re right. Let’s leave the past in the past.”

  “Cheers to that.”

  * * *

  CHARLIE

  I don’t know why I decided to ask about Brooke right before we left the house. I’d sworn to myself that I wouldn’t broach the subject, and then bang, my tongue got the better of me.

  He asked if I’m jealous. Of course I am. Any girl would be if Brooke had dated their boyfriend in the past. She’s a freaking cover model.

  I hate that I’m feeling so insecure about myself. I’m not blind. I clean up cute. And Troy has shown me time and time again that he likes what he sees. But it still manages to get to me.

  Damn it, Charlie. Shake it off. You’re Raven, the hottest sorceress in all the land.

  “Our ride is here,” Troy tells me, bringing me back to the here and now.

  I glance at the beer in my hand, then chug it, taking several large gulps in one go before setting the bottle back on the counter.

  “Thirsty?” Troy smirks.

  “Not anymore.”

  The ride is short, only ten minutes. The party is being held at a frat house. Troy told me which one, but I already forgot. I texted Blake earlier to ask if he wanted to join us as a joke. His reply came swiftly—a string of angry and barfing emojis. I also extended the invite to Fred and Sylvana, but both already had plans. It would have been nice to see familiar faces here, but on the other hand, venturing out of my comfort zone is something I have to do from time to time.

  The party is already in full swing when we get there. Everyone we pass greets Troy as if he were a celebrity. It’s all high fives and shouting. People don’t seem to care that he had no part in the game’s outcome today since he didn’t play.

  Despite all the attention on him, he doesn’t let go of my hand for a second, and when he stops to chat with some people, he introduces me as his girlfriend. Not a single person mentions I’m the girl who wrote the nasty article about him. I’m guessing no one knows or cares except B
rooke and her nasty friend.

  We finally reach the core of the party, the open kitchen where most of the team is gathered. Andreas is on top of the counter with red Solo cups in both hands. He tilts one of the cups back and then the next before he glances in our direction. Even from where I stand, I can see his eyes are glassy. He must have started drinking as soon as he left the stadium.

  “Hallelujah, Troy Alexander is finally here. Someone give him a fucking drink already.”

  Danny, the young quarterback, gets to us first. Instead of speaking to Troy, his attention is on me. “Hey, Charlie. I’m glad you could come. What do you want to drink?”

  “I’ll have a beer, thanks.”

  Bending over, he fishes a bottle from the cooler on the floor next to the counter. He twists the cap off before passing the bottle to me. “Here, you’d better drink the good stuff. I can’t vouch for what’s in those plastic cups.”

  “I’ll have a beer too. Thanks for asking,” Troy pipes up.

  “Get one yourself,” Danny replies with a good-humored laugh.

  Troy shakes his head and then glances at me. “See the shit I get from this rookie here?”

  Before I can reply, Troy slings his arm around Danny’s neck and brings him to the level of his right hand so he can mess with the guy’s curly hair.

  “Hey, cut it out,” Danny complains.

  Two of Troy’s teammates see the scene and join in the wrestling or whatever this is. I step back, not wanting to get my beer knocked out of my hand. I only stop when my back presses against the wall.

  It doesn’t take long for Troy to be engulfed by his teammates, out of my reach. He hasn’t hung out with them in a while, and this is an important evening for the team. I’m fine with just watching and hoping no one bothers me.

  But of course, my solitude doesn’t last long. Wherever those guys are, a flock of giggling girls follows. It’s easy to spot what kind of clique they belong to. The sorority girls are all dressed to the nines as if they were going to a wedding reception instead of a football party. They’re all wearing cocktail dresses, and their hair’s styled to perfection. Then there are the cheerleaders, wearing jeans and sexy tops like the ones Sylvana wanted me to wear. And finally, I see some girls who are clearly athletes judging by the confident way they move and talk. Their attire is less sexual, and they make me look puny next to their top-notch physiques.