by Lindsey Iler
She’s confided in me more times than I can count. Tireless nights spent devouring ice cream, sitting in the middle of her bed, while she regurgitated everything she’s overheard and seen with her own eyes since she was young. How she is a well-rounded young adult is beyond me.
“Still a mess?” I ask.
“A mess doesn’t even begin to describe this shit show. They’ve both basically made me, their own daughter, sign a gag order, meaning everything I’ve ever told you, needs to stay between us.” She imitates locking her lips and throwing an imaginary key over her shoulder.
“Absolutely. I’m sorry it’s gotten so bad.”
“And only bound to get worse. They’ve finally settled on certain details of the divorce, only because my father is willing to throw in the cabin in the Alps, so long as they can have everything completed by February.” She shoves a single finger to the back of her throat. “You know, so he can marry his twenty-year-old girlfriend.”
I laugh, gripping my stomach to control it. “She isn’t twenty.”
“Palmer, the girl can’t even legally drink alcohol, and now I’m expected to call her my stepmom. We’re three years apart,” she expresses, tossing a pen at my chest when I still can’t contain my giggles. “This isn’t funny. Oddly enough, my father’s present is a little insight into most of these boys’ futures.”
The Glass Heart student body is comprised of future senators, Supreme Court judges, and the best of the best who hold great influence over powerful men. With power always comes temptation, and these boys have had power pumping through their veins from birth.
“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” Delaney pulls her phone out of her purse. Her eyes widen as she scans the screen. She drops it back in, scoops her books together, and throws them in her backpack, standing while she zips it.
“Where you headed off to?” If she isn’t sticking around, neither am I. I’ll head to my next class early and get some studying done in peace. Ever since Marek hunted me inside the library, it always feels like there’s eyes on me.
“I have some things to handle, but I’ll see you tonight at the game, right?” she asks.
“I don’t think I’m going.” I’d rather rip off my toenails.
“Don’t you think it’ll be worse for you if you don’t show up?” She frowns, worried what my defiance could mean for me. “Sometimes you have to bend not to break.”
“There’s something about them, I can’t put my finger on it, but when it comes to Reed, my stomach twists into knots, like they’ve played a part in what happened to her.”
“No offense, but if they did, the last thing I want my best friend to do is go toe-to-toe with them. I kind of like you alive.” Delaney’s nose twinges at her overstep. “I’m so sorry, Palmer. You know what I mean.”
“I do.” I sling my bag over my shoulder and stand to walk with her to the door. “I’ll see you there, okay? And I’ll try my hardest not to step on their toes.”
“We both know that’s impossible for a girl like you.” She laughs, blowing me a kiss before stalking up the stairs. As she hits the top landing, a familiar hand covers hers, the metal wrapped around his finger brushing her knuckles.
What is she doing with Breaker?
******
Academics give prospective students at Glass Heart Academy a reason to study here, but sports, it’s what fills the bodies of those students with adrenaline.
The crowd in the stadium is intense tonight. The cement aisles are damn near packed with fans eager to watch Marek Hawthorne do the thing that comes natural to him. Football. Our team is undefeated three years running, and the talent that boy holds in his body is the reason. As a freshman, he walked on and snagged a position right out from under a senior. This is the moment the rest of the student body started to take notice of him, positioning him in a place that allowed him certain privileges.
From the bottom of the bleachers, I scan the crowd until I catch Delaney five rows up. She’s wearing a bright red, plaid skirt that’s much shorter than the official uniform on campus. With the black knee-high socks and a cut-off Bulldogs t-shirt, she looks like the rest of the girls in the stands.
I check my own outfit and immediately feel outside of the “in” club. This is something I’m used to. With a deep breath, I ascend the large steps with all eyes on me. I don’t belong here, and everyone knows it.
After Marek’s little show on the front lawn of the English building, they’ve gifted me a wide berth to make sure they are not mistaken as being kind to me. After all, they wouldn’t want their king to see them overstepping the boundaries of his mandated social blackout.
“You could have told me about the dress code.” I flick the hem of her skirt and step past her.
“You need to get out more.” She inspects my jeans and zip-up sweatshirt with disgust. Her eyes never meet mine, and she crosses her arms over her chest, blatantly ignoring me. Delaney has never made me feel bad about what I choose to wear.
What the hell is that about? Being treated like shit by my best friend isn’t how I expected to spend my Friday night.
“I’ve gotten out, and see where that’s gotten me,” I mutter under my breath. I want to add a threesome with our teacher and one of the biggest assholes on campus, but I stay quiet, my eyes scanning the field.
It’s easy to spot Marek. His large build makes him stand out in any crowd. He pulls his helmet off, grabs a hose contraption on the sidelines, and squirts water down his throat. Sweat from the first two quarters covers his face. The scoreboard shows we’re tied fourteen-fourteen.
“He’s been playing like shit,” the guy in front of us whispers to the man next to him, afraid someone will hear him talking poorly about our school’s savior.
“What’s going on?” I ask Delaney, trying to pull her attention from the sophomore boy next to her.
“You have some nerve, Palmer.” She rolls her eyes, then turns her back to me.
I feel out of place in these stands without Delaney. Why is she mad at me? What could have possibly happened between earlier to now? Breaker. Dammit. What have they done?
Marek stills before setting his helmet on the turf next to him and grips the collar of his uniform, holding a stance that screams intense power.
I glance around the stands and notice everyone is watching him. Awe and admiration are something boys like Marek are used to. They’re entitled to it simply by a birthright or earned from an easy dominance. He isn’t just the king on campus. He rules the field, too.
“Your boy toy is looking for a little attention.” Delaney releases a humorless laugh. “Why don’t you go tell him more about my parents’ divorce? Would you like the incriminating photos for your little show and tell next time?” She shoves past me, stomping down the steps and through the corridor that leads to the bathrooms and concession stands.
My jaw falls slack as I glance between Marek and my best friend. What has he done? Like he knows I’m searching for him, his eyes slip to mine. I’m the wounded baby zebra, and he’s the hungry lion.
He plants his feet and lifts a finger, motioning someone forward. No. No. I shake my head, and a cocky smile spreads across his face. I focus my attention on my Converses.
“I think he’s talking to you,” the man in front of me says. “I doubt that young boy is calling me forward.” My fate is settled, and this guy knows it as much as I do.
I shift my gaze up, and sure as shit, he’s pointing at me and then the turf at his feet. This isn’t the first time Marek has made demands, and every time, I falter, proving who is in control.
“Now!” he mouths with an authority no one his age should have. It’s too much power.
I take a deep breath and move my feet before I can convince myself it’s a horrible idea. Every step I take, I witness someone in the student section fluttering their attention between Marek and me. Anything is better than standing next to my best friend and feeling the hatred rolling off her like waves.
“Whore,” a
girl spews as I pass.
Ignoring the mean words is becoming rather easy at this point. I want to yell at them, make them understand I’m not going to him for my own enjoyment. If Delaney is mad at me about something, he’s the reason why.
Marek’s officially gained everyone’s attention. At the bottom step, I scan the area, unsure about how to get onto the field without jumping over the metal barricade between the team and the fans. Marek must see my panic because he gestures for me to go around. At the gate, Breaker stands with the gate wide open.
I still at his side, not bothering to look him in the eyes. “Whatever your game is with Delaney, Breaker . . .”
“Loose lips sink ships, and yours”— Breaker runs the pad of his thumb over my mouth— “sunk the only one that was still in your fleet.”
He shoves his hand into my back, forcing me into the lion’s den. The lock clicks behind me, giving me no choice but to finish this embarrassing and unnecessary walk.
Once I’m in front of Marek, he bites the corner of his lip, tipping his head in this sexy way that has my blood warming, spreading to my cheeks.
“You’re late,” he states, gripping his jersey-covered pads.
“Didn’t know I was being watched.” I shuffle, kicking at the turf.
I could ask him flat out what they did to make Delaney hate me, but I know better. Marek isn’t going to tell me shit. Silence is his best weapon. What he needs me to know is that he had something to do with it.
He bends at the knee, forcing us eye-to-eye. “Let’s get something straight. I’m always watching.”
“What do you need, Marek? I came to the game. That’s all you demanded.” I wave my hand in Delaney’s general direction. “And thanks to you guys, I have damage control to do. Is this the plan, to isolate me more than I already am?”
“You didn’t have to come, Palmer. You do have free will, right?” He ignores the mention of the games I know he’s playing.
“I’m starting to doubt that the more time I spend in your presence.”
“Well, do you see the score?” His eyes flick to the scoreboard and back to me. “We lost the first half because of you.”
“You haven’t lost yet.” How is a tied score a loss or my fault? I shake my head in confusion. “I have no say over your team’s ability to beat these guys.”
“If you aren’t winning and making your opponent wish they were anywhere else except lined up against you, then you’ve lost.” He’s domineering and relentless. Too proud.
“Please, tell me again how this is my fault.” I circle my finger around the field.
Marek jabs his hand at the bleachers, his movements sharp and littered with anger. “You not being in the stands threw my game off.” A voice like his can be so soothing at times, but right now, I’m startled at the pissed-off tone.
“How did you manage to survive every other game before me, huh?” My clenched fists dig into my hips. Standing my ground may be senseless, but I refuse to back down.
“I didn’t know what I was missing then, Palmer.” His aggression is surprisingly replaced with sudden sincerity.
Marek searches my eyes, then leans forward, caressing his lips against mine. I freeze, unsure what he expects from me, after everything.
“What was that for?” I pull back, eyes wide with my unfiltered surprise.
“For showing up, even when it killed you.”
“Whatever, Marek. I don’t live in riddles like you do.” I turn my back and stomp back towards the stands.
A loud clap rings through the stadium, followed by an instant searing pain on my ass cheek. I twist to see Marek shaking the sting out of his hand from the pain he’s inflicted on me.
“Don’t ever let their insecurities masked in beauty make you feel any less than, Palmer.”
How does he know? Could he see my fear and uncertainty of being swallowed up by the crowd? Does he sense how lost I feel in places like this stadium without the protection of my big sister?
“More riddles, Marek!”
When I hit the gate, Breaker opens it, too happy to let me back through.
“I’ll be waiting for you to solve them all!” Marek shouts once I’m back in my seat, drawing even more attention to me. He shifts his helmet into place, but his grin shines through the face mask.
“What the hell was that all about? Did he just kiss you?” Now Delaney’s talking to me. She rambles off twenty more questions that I ignore because I’m too busy watching Marek on the field.
He steps out of the huddle, allowing his eyes to catch me in the stands, before taking his position on the field. I know nothing about the sport, except there’s tackling involved and everyone fighting over one ball.
“I never took you as a whore and a backstabber.” Delaney crosses her arms over her chest, closing herself off from me.
“You do realize I didn’t do anything, right?” I lean forward. She jolts back like I’ve slapped her.
“You were the only one who knew, Palmer.” Because maturity is always hard for any of us in a fight, Delaney makes the sophomore beside her trade seats.
If she wants to believe the lies, then there’s nothing I can do to change her mind at this point. Once the dust settles, she’ll be more reasonable.
Much like the rest of the world, Delaney has forgiven everything we know for certain about the boys. They’ve done unthinkable things, spread rumors and lies, not to mention, they’ve cranked up their intimidation. Marek has taken advantage of my body, tried to lure me in, only to push me back into the dirt.
Whatever they’ve done, they’ve turned my last lifeline against me.
But why? I wonder, lost among the cheers around me.
Marek catches a long pass from our quarterback, effortlessly plucking it from the sky and tucking it close to his body to run it to the end of the field. The crowd chants his praises as he holds up the game ball in celebration, pointing it directly at me.
My heart beats rapidly in my chest. Marek’s actions and words leave me confused and uncertain. Nothing he says or does lines up with the events of our falling out. I shouldn’t be in the stands, smiling at this prick, and in no world does it make sense for him to be entertaining me in any capacity. Yet, here we are.
Everything about this feels like a set-up. I’ve fallen for his charm before.
As soon as the clock ticks down to zero, I apologize to Delaney for ditching the after party. Breaker guards the gate like a rabid watch dog. I turn in the opposite direction and slink away without being noticed, anticipating the comfort of my fluffy pajamas and watching a sappy romantic comedy.
I pull my phone out and dial my best friend’s number. My call goes straight to voice mail. Three unanswered texts later, I realize she doesn’t want to hear from me. I won’t give up. Whatever trick these assholes have pulled on Delaney, I’ll find a way to fix it.
Halfway to the dorms, I realize how dark campus is this time of night. Unease slithers through me. Without the lights of the stadium, seclusion doesn’t seem as good of an idea. I glance over my shoulder to see the faint glow of the football field.
Fear will not defeat me, so I press on. A few feet down the sidewalk, a large figure appears between two huge oak trees.
Fight or flight.
Every nerve in my body screams at my brain to run, to get far away from this situation. The only problem is, my legs won’t move, my feet cemented to the pathway where the dark waits for me.
Dressed in black from head to toe, the person steps forward until we have only a foot between us. I lean down, hoping to see who it is, but something from a horror movie covers his face. In a desperate attempt, I reach for the mask but come up short, grabbing his collar instead. My fingers tangle around a silver necklace, nicking the sensitive skin when I jerk my hand away. The unique braided strands are unlike anything I’ve seen.
“You’ll do just fine.” The deep rattle in the man’s voice sends goose bumps on a chase over my skin until I’m covered.
His hands snatch my wrists, propelling me forward. Everything becomes a blur of moments, divided by my screams and my fists connecting to the stranger’s body. I try to grab his mask, to pull it away and reveal who’s determined to hurt me.
He’s far stronger than me, hoisting me up and over his shoulder. I kick and flail until my body slips. One good strike gets me dropped in the dirt alley between two buildings.
My assailant kicks me in the ribs. Instincts have me balling up, folding into myself as my only means of protection.
“HEY!” The authoritative yell causes the man hellbent on hurting me to pause before lifting his boot and slamming it into my ribs again. The sounds of struggle reach me, but damn if I’m checking.
“Not so tough anymore, are you, asshole?”
I roll onto my back, the immense pain in my ribs a good reminder of how bad this could have ended. Pain blurs my vision, and when a fuzzy face appears in front of me, I scream until I gain focus.
“I didn’t know it was you,” Dixon says, offering me his hand.
“And if you did, what?” When he yanks me to my feet, pain rips through my ribs. One of them has to be broken. “You honestly would’ve let him do what he wanted with me?”
“I may have let him get a couple extra kicks in.” He grins like he’s actually proud of himself.
“Fucking asshole,” I whisper and shake my head, lifting my shirt to inspect the damage. A large bruise covers my right side. Steel-toed boots will do that. “What have I ever done to you?”
“You’re clouding his mind, and when Marek sets his eyes on something, he doesn’t stop. So do us all a favor and don’t play into his game. You both will be better off for it.”
“Is this some sort of warning?” I hiss.
“It’s like you get off on him being cruel to you.” He circles on me so quick I have no time to prepare myself for his chest to bump against mine. “You’re not meant to enjoy his punishments, and yet, every chance you get, you step in front of him like a platter of the most decadent desserts. You need to learn our boy has a sweet tooth.”
Dixon turns his back and walks away, not asking if I’m okay or if I need help. This doesn’t surprise me. His eyes are dead. He worries only about those he deems worthy, and I’m not high on that list, if I’m on it at all.
