by Hannah Gray
“Um, yeah?” I answer, tossing my hair over my shoulder to get it out of my face.
“I’m Kent. I’ve seen you around a little.” He grins. “You’re not exactly easy to miss. I wanted to introduce myself.” He smiles, revealing obnoxiously white teeth.
I need my sunglasses. Those bad boys are damn near blinding.
“Oh.” I give him an awkward smile. “Well, hello, Kent. Nice to meet you.”
“Do you want to go out some—”
“The answer is no, Woodworth. Back the fuck up,” Cole’s deep voice growls from the doorway.
“Storm, what the fuck is it to you?” Kent tosses back at him before a douchey smile creeps onto his annoying-as-fuck face. “She was into it.”
That makes me want to punch him in the balls. I was certainly not into anything to do with this cocky, overly groomed dickwad.
“She’s off-limits. Walk. The. Fuck. Away.” He steps forward, his muscles rippling underneath his white T-shirt. The vein in his neck making a dangerous appearance.
“Or what, Storm?”
“I don’t know. Try it, and I guess you’ll find out.”
“Yeah, okay.” Kent laughs. “You pissin’ on her to mark your territory?”
Cole smirks. “She doesn’t need me to piss on her. She’s already mine.”
Rolling my eyes, I walk between them and toward the door. “Save yourselves the time and energy, boys. I’m sure both of your dicks are tiny, so I wouldn’t bother whipping them out and getting the measuring tape to see whose is bigger.”
Leaving them both standing there, looking like complete morons, I head to the food court to meet Sloane. I can’t help but think of how annoying it is that Cole shows up here and treats me like trash, yet he still tries to control my every move. That’s bullshit. And even though I wanted nothing to do with Kent or whatever the hell his name was, I don’t appreciate being cockblocked by Cole Storms. I don’t appreciate it one bit.
Payback is a bitch. And I like to serve mine ice-cold.
eight
Ally
“I’m so excited to go to this football game,” Sloane squeals. “Football is a huge deal back where I’m from. This is like having a little slice of home here at college.”
I smile and shake my head. “Your accent is the cutest shit I have ever heard. Kinda pissed that I wasn’t born in the South.”
She’s like a little Southern belle. Though I can’t wait until she feels comfortable enough with me to tell me her real story. After all, everybody has one.
She smiles. “Me and Ally go together like peas and carrots,” her Southern accent drawls slowly, sounding like Forrest Gump.
“This is why we’re friends.” I smile so hard that it actually hurts my cheeks.
“Ahem, bitch … we’re best friends.”
“Fo’ life.” I wink at her. “For real though, Sloane, thank you for being my friend. It means a lot—to have a friend and be able to trust them. I haven’t exactly had a ton of friends in my eighteen years.”
“I mean, I tried to switch roommates, but they said no. So, I suppose I’m stuck with you now, aren’t I?” she says, completely indifferent.
My mouth hangs open as I whip my head toward her. “Wh—”
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Lousy joke. Sorry,” she says, throwing her arm around me. “Thank you for being my friend, Ally. I’m really happy that we were paired as roommates.”
Even when she’s mean as a joke, she can’t stand the thought of hurting someone’s feelings. I could learn a lot from Sloane—that’s for damn sure. Nonetheless, I’m so happy to have her as not just a roommate, but also as a friend.
Aside from Cole, this is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend. It’s weird, talking girl talk. I’ve never been one of those girls. I was respected back in Charlotte’s Falls but only because of Cole. Girls saw me as a pariah. I had stolen the hottest guy on campus. And even though he was still a poor foster kid, it wasn’t hard to see with the football skills he possessed that he was headed places. Big places. So, naturally, they all loved and adored him. Me? I was tolerated.
“So,” Sloane says sweetly, “if you don’t mind me asking, what is up with you and that Cole or Storm or Storms or whatever the heck his name is?” Turning toward me again, she scrunches her face up. “Seriously, what even is his real name?”
I laugh. “His name is Cole Storms. I started calling him Storm when we were twelve. It’s sort of his second name now.” I roll my eyes. “Well, now, he’s called it by everyone and their damn grandmother. But before, it was my thing. I called him Storm.”
“Okay, well, that doesn’t answer my question. What is up with the two of you?”
I sigh at her persistency. It’s not that I don’t want to share; it’s just that things between Cole and me have always felt so sacred. “We’re old friends, you could say.”
“As in … old friends who used to get naked and roll around? Or just plain old friends?” she asks, arching an eyebrow.
My mouth hangs open. “Sloane Leighton! So much for you being the innocent girl I pegged you for.” I shake my head. “I’m almost never wrong about people either. You slipped right under my radar.”
“Eh, guess it’s true what they say. Looks can be deceiving.” She shrugs. “Anyway, did you know he was coming here? To Brooks?”
I shake my head. “I had no freaking clue, I swear. I thought he was going to Texas. Then, I came to Georgia, and bam, he’s here.” Pulling my hair up, I tie it in a ponytail. “And that makes my life more complicated.”
She nods. “Understandably so. But I have to ask, did you wish for him to be here?”
I think before I answer. “Not here specifically. Only because I never gave it a thought that he’d ever in a million years attend Brooks,” I explain. “His dream school was always in Texas. And I wanted to attend there too.” I blush. “But when I applied there, I got rejected. So, here I am.”
Looking forward, she continues walking. A smile suddenly touches her lips.
“Why are you smiling?” I grunt. I can only imagine what thoughts are going on in her everything is flowers and candy mind. She’s all light and colorful. I’m more dark and dreary.
“Well, it sounds like …” She pauses, her finger tapping her lips.
“Like what?” I ask. My curiosity killing me.
“Like destiny,” she says softly. “You both ended up here for a reason.”
“Oh my flying fuck.” I elbow her. “Destiny? Are you kidding me?” I joke it off, but I’ve thought about it myself. I don’t typically believe in that type of shit. But I can’t deny the fact that the universe has delivered me to that man not once, but twice.
“What?” she shrieks. “What’s wrong with the word destiny?”
“Well … to be blunt, I think it’s a bunch of horseshit.”
“Maybe you should start believing in it,” she says before leading the way to our seats. “Because I’m not sure what other sign you need from the world to tell you that you were meant to be in each other’s lives. It’s pretty dang obvious to me.”
Destiny couldn’t have brought us back together. Could it?
I shake that thought off. So far, destiny hasn’t been that kind to me. I seriously doubt it had anything to do with the man my heart beats for being at the same college.
nine
Cole
“Storm,” Coach calls to me, waving for me to come over to him. “Get your ass over here.”
Jogging over, I nod to him. “Yeah, Coach?”
He furiously chews on the gum in his mouth. “We both know Ricky took it hard when he learned the news that he’d been replaced.” Messing with the bill on his hat, he frowns. “I hope you can get the boys to fall in line behind you. They need leadership. They need someone they can depend on.”
Putting my hands on my sides, I nod. “Yes, sir. I just hope they’ll accept me. If not, we’ve got no shot at the championship.”
He leans in close
r to my ear and pats me on the shoulder. “Then, make them fall in line. Earn their respect, son. You get one, and you’ll get them all.”
With that tidbit of advice, he turns and walks to the sidelines. Leaving me hoping and praying I will earn these guys’ respect as their new captain.
This is far from my first rodeo in the game of football. They aren’t going to just welcome me with open arms after I replaced their main man. I might be seen as the big man on campus these days to the students, but to this team, I’m just the new kid who came in hot and was instantly handed the keys to the kingdom. All I can hope is that they understand that if they work with me, I’ll lead them right to a championship.
Coach calls us in, and we form into a huddle. I don’t miss the douchey looks coming my way.
“Look here, boys,” he says, looking around at all of us. “This season is ours for the taking. We have the team, we have the talent, we have the ability. So, what do you say? Let’s start this game off right.”
No one says anything besides Knox and Weston, who yell, “Let’s go!”
I glance around at the snarls coming my way. I can’t help but feel awkward as fuck. Suddenly, I’m transported back to a time when I was a kid, living with my dad. Dirty clothes and hair that was too fucking long for a boy. I was labeled the weird kid in class. Thank fuck when I got to Charlotte’s Falls, the guys cared more about my football skills, and the girls cared more about the way I looked. Finally, I was respected.
Coach’s lips form into a line, and he shakes his head. “Well, if that’s how it’s going to be, you can all warm my damn bench. How’s that sound, whiny asses?”
They all glance around at each other before finally realizing that this is Coach Beal. And Coach don’t play.
Collectively, they eventually nod. Other than Ricky, who just stands there, scowling. Likely planning my death.
Coach gives us a pep talk. Runs through what plays we’ll start with and what to look out for with this team. The offensive coach then steps in, talking to me and Knox mainly. And then, just like that, it’s fucking game time.
Before heading out onto the field, I jog over to Ricky. “I’m sorry, man, for how it all played out. I hope you know that.”
He looks away from me, his jaw noticeably tensing. “They’ll never listen to you, Storm. Most of those guys have been with me since freshman year,” he answers bitterly before looking me up and down. “They aren’t going to play with a stranger who showed up here, acting like some big shit. You’re still a kid. You’ve got a lot to learn to catch up to me.”
Pulling my helmet on, I shrug. “Like I said, I’m sorry. But they’ll either learn to work with me or they can lose this season for me, themselves, you, and Coach. That’s on them,” I answer sharply before making my way to the center of the field.
Normally, I don’t get nervous before a game. Actually, I never do. But that’s because I’ve always had teammates who were like brothers. Now, I only have Knox and Weston. The others see me more like an enemy. Yeah, we’re all really good. But a team is just that—a team. It isn’t a single person or a pair or even three. It’s a group coming together to execute a win. Or to try their damnedest and lose with grace. Either way, it’s done together.
I pray to fucking God they can set aside personal shit and just show up and play. But something tells me it won’t be that easy.
We’re only a few seconds from halftime, and as I predicted, they are choosing to work against me and not with me. I don’t get it either. Issue with me or not, they should have enough respect for this game to fucking play. To just show up. It’s a damn disgrace and an embarrassment to football.
The defense is letting me get sacked. Over and over. The only one on the field who has blocked me from getting hit is Weston. He hasn’t even been able to try to run one into the end zone because besides him, I have no protection. And I’ve had to depend solely on Knox to throw the ball to because everyone else is purposely making me look bad by missing the pass.
By the time we file into the locker room, my body is in immense pain, and my heart is racing because I’m so fucking pissed off that I can hardly see straight. I cannot for the life of me understand a universe where you don’t at least try your best in a game.
I should be focused on giving a speech, amping them up. But I can’t. I can hardly look at their pathetic faces.
If they can’t show up for me, why should I come in here and waste my breath on a speech?
Back in Charlotte’s Falls, if someone pissed me off, I’d straighten them out without thinking twice. But I’m in college now, and everything is scrutinized under a microscope. I can’t afford to fuck up and ruin my chances at being drafted. Even if that means keeping this anger inside until I explode. I might not be able to beat the piss out of these fuckers, but I can at least let them know what’s up.
I see a few of them snickering among each other, looking in my direction.
“Laugh it up, fucksticks. Hopefully, you have no dreams to play at a higher level.” Taking a drink of my Gatorade, I shake my head at them. “Because after tonight, nobody will want you. I promise you that much.”
“What the fuck did you say to me?” Dex, a defenseman, growls as he comes charging toward me.
I can’t get in trouble if it’s self-defense. Right?
My fist curls, and that feeling of adrenaline rushes through my body. My sore-as-fuck body, thanks to these assholes.
“You heard me.” I smile arrogantly. “I thought, No way would these pussies throw away a fucking game tonight over a position.” Shaking my head, I laugh bitterly. “Turns out, I was wrong. You all should take those jerseys off; you’re a fucking disgrace to this team.”
Reaching back, he curls his fist before starting to come toward me.
Before he does it though, Knox pushes him backward. “Cut the fucking shit, Dex.”
“What do we have here?” Now, Ricky steps up to Knox. “You riding Storm’s dick like the Coach is?”
“What the fuck did you just say, son?” Coach Beal’s voice booms.
Turning toward him, Knox grins. “Coach? Allow me?”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t stop him.
Knox turns his attention back to Dex before he laughs once and shakes his head. “Well, you see, Dex, I like to do this thing called winning.” Looking back at me, he pretends to act confused. “How many games did they win last year, Storm?”
I didn’t want to do this shit to Ricky, but he’s left me no choice. He’s not fucking up my future just because he has a vagina. Fuck no.
“Six,” I answer smugly. “Lost six.”
Looking around the room, Knox shakes his head. “Six out of twelve fucking games. I mean, I’m not good at math or anything, but that means you lost half of your games.” He claps his hands. “What a bunch of go-getters you all are.” Moving his eyes to Ricky, he jerks his thumb toward Weston. “Weston here, his team won state. My team, we lost state, but at least we’d made it there. And, obviously, Cole fucking Storms led his team to a state championship and won it.” He pauses. “How many of you fuckers made it to state in high school?”
A few mumble, and a few raise their hands though not many.
“That’s about what I—”
“Get to the point, Carter,” Coach grunts.
Knox nods. “The three of us are out there, busting our asses. And for what? For the rest of you to sabotage this game.” He stops and looks over at me. “With this guy right here, we will win games. But Jesus fucking Christ, you have to do your jobs. We all get it—you have loyalty to Ricky. That’s sweet and shit. You can suck his dick once this game is over. But goddamn, I want to win games. I don’t give a fuck about your hair-braiding, nail-painting relationships. Tuck your pussies in and play ball. I’m good. I’m real fucking good. So is our new quarterback and tight end.” He waves his hand around at us. “We can either be a three-man team. Or we can all work together. It’s your call, boys.”
It’s a good speech.
A speech I should be giving. But my anger over how this team is playing makes me unable to do that. Unable to act like a true captain in this moment. And that’s a damn shame.
If I’m being honest, I don’t have a helluva lot of faith that Knox’s words will work. But I’m hoping to fuck it does. I’m not sure how many more hits I can take tonight. And more than that, I really, really hate losing. Especially when I know Ally is watching. I can feel her eyes on me the whole time. I just wish I could hear her sweet voice cheering me on.
Ally
“That was some game,” Sloane says next to me as we walk back toward our dorm.
We stayed at the stadium for a while, walking around and getting more junk food. I forgot how much I had missed football games. There’s just something so nostalgic about them.
Of course, there’s also that small part inside of me that misses being there specifically to cheer for Cole. He always swore he could hear my voice in the crowd, yelling for him. I was never sure if I should cringe or smile at that.
She isn’t kidding.
Watching the first half, I could have sworn that Cole’s team hated his guts. It was like they purposely left him open to get sacked. It was painful to watch. Along with infuriating. Honest to God, if it had been back when we were hot and heavy, I would have probably run out on that field and kicked those fuckers in the nutsacks for allowing him to get hit so many times. There were only two teammates out there who seemed like they were with him and not against him.
In all of his football career since I’ve known him, I’ve never seen his teammates do that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him—being treated like an outsider.
But thank fucking Jesus himself, by the second half, they all played together like an actual team. He called out plays, and they actually listened. His teammates started to protect him. And yard by yard, they were back in the game. In the end, they won by thirteen points.
I’ve always been one who loves a good comeback game. Though I do hate that it started so rough for him.
