Rixon Raiders: The Collection

by L A Cotton

  “There has always been a bitter rivalry between Rixon and Rixon East. It’s older than you or me. But Principal Finnigan, and Principal Castrol over at East, have decided it’s time to lay the past to rest and make an example of what happened this semester. Rivalry on the field is one thing, but when it spills out into the community and starts affecting innocent people that is unacceptable.” His hard gaze found the three of us. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” everyone grumbled in unison.

  Coach continued. “Both Principals have decided that, in a show of good faith, an exhibition game will be held in the new year to raise funds for a local charity that supports young peoples’ mental health and wellbeing.”

  “You expect us to play them again?” someone balked but Coach didn’t get a chance to answer because Jason stormed out of the locker room, letting the door slam behind him.

  Coach let out a resigned sigh. “Can I trust the two of you to handle that?” he said to me and Cameron, and we nodded. “This isn’t an opt in, opt out scenario. Principal Finnigan made it very clear he expects everyone to play, especially the senior players.”

  “Leave it to us, Coach,” Cameron said, going after him. I lingered, confused about what he was saying.

  “You too, Bennet. Principal Finnigan agreed you’ve served your punishment.”

  “I’m playing?” I didn’t know how I felt about that.

  “You’re still a Raider, are you not?

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Then you’re playing. Now go, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” With a sharp nod Coach Hasson dismissed me, and I took off after my best friends.

  It didn’t take long to find them. I only had to follow the sound of raised voices outside the gym.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Jase ground out, his back to me. “You’re taking his side?”

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side,” Cameron shot back. “But you really want to piss Finnigan off when we’re so close to being done with senior year? It’s one game. And maybe they have a point, maybe after everything, this is a good thing. Set a good example for the younger players coming up through the ranks.”

  I jammed my hands in my pockets, watching the two of them go at it. Cameron had always been the voice of reason, the person who had talked Jason out of doing something really fucking stupid more times than I could count. Me? I usually acted as the devil on his shoulder, goading him into some stupid prank or fight over the river in Rixon East territory.

  Today though, I remained quiet.

  “If I ever have to look at one of their players again it will be too soon,” Jase spat, dragging a hand through his hair.

  “Come on, man, Thatcher is off the team. Without him, it’ll be different.”

  “How can you be so… so fucking calm knowing what they did to Hailee?” He was seething now, his jaw clenched in anger.

  Cam let out a heavy sigh, tipping his face into the crisp morning air, his breath like a faint plume of smoke drifting skyward. “It’s over,” he slid his eyes to Jason’s. “Hailee is good. We’re good. And I want to focus on our last few months as seniors. Thatcher is going to get his, I promise.”

  I hoped for everyone’s sake, he did. Because from the murderous glint in Jason’s eyes every time someone mentioned his archrival, I suspected our best friend wouldn’t be able to let it go if the law didn’t find Lewis Thatcher guilty.

  “What?” Jase finally noticed me standing there. “You got nothing to say?”

  “Cameron’s right.” I stepped forward. “Let’s do it, one final play. Go out with a bang.”

  “We’re State Champions. It doesn’t get much fucking more bang than that.”

  Wincing, my eyes shuttered. Jason didn’t mean it as an insult. But it sure felt like one, when they’d earned it and I hadn’t.

  “Jase,” Cam warned, noticing my crestfallen expression.

  “Shit, Ash, I didn’t mean it like that.” Jason cussed under his breath. “I just wanted to enjoy the holidays. I didn’t want another game with the Eagles looming over us.”

  “One final play,” Cam reiterated. “Ash is right. We do this, together. One last time. Then we walk away with no regrets.”

  “Fine,” Jase grunted. “But if it all goes to shit, I’m blaming the two of you.” He said the words to both of us, but his eyes were on me, something passing between us. I wanted to believe it was gratitude, but I wasn’t sure. Jason wasn’t exactly good with his feelings.

  “I can take the heat if it all goes wrong, no problem. It’s what I do best.” It was a joke, but neither of them laughed.

  Jason groaned and then looked at Cameron. “One condition.”

  “Name it,” Cam replied.

  “You break it to the girls.”

  Laughter spilled out of me and the two of them looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “All I’m going to say is, good luck with that. It was nice knowing you both.” I clapped Jason on the back and left them to argue who was going to tell Hailee and her best friend Felicity, Jason’s girl, about the exhibition game.

  Telling myself I wasn’t bitter.

  Even if it was a huge fucking lie.

  “Hernandez,” I called out, spotting Mya Hernandez, my newest friend courtesy of Hailee and Felicity.

  “Go away, Asher,” she replied over her shoulder, but I broke into a jog, cutting her off before she could duck out of the building.

  “Why the cold shoulder?”

  “Not a cold shoulder, just a… shoulder.” Mya grinned and shit if I didn’t drown in her big brown eyes.

  “Asher?” she snapped.

  “Uh, yeah?”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t just chase me down to stare at me like I’ve got something on my face.” Leaning in, she flushed a little. “I don’t, do I?”

  “No,” I laughed. “You’re good.”

  A little too good, if the way my body moved in closer was anything to go on. But then, it had been weeks since I’d gotten any.

  “So… what do you want?”

  “You wound me, Hernandez. I thought we were friends.”

  “No, you decided we were friends after you lost Felicity to Jason.”

  “I didn’t lose…” She gave me a pointed look and I changed direction. “Fine, I thought Felicity and me were friend goals, sure. But what can I say? She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

  My chest tightened. Not because I wanted Felicity. I didn’t; she was my best friend’s girl. But there had been a time, when Hailee and Flick first started hanging around with our group, that I’d thought maybe… nah, who the fuck was I trying to kid? She only ever had eyes for Jason.

  I was just the funny friend. The guy who made the girls laugh.

  “Goodbye, Asher.” Mya tried to move around me, but I stepped into her path.

  “Not so fast.”

  “Asher, come on.” She swatted my chest. “I have shit to do.”

  “Yeah, like what shit?” I smirked.

  “Homework and shit.”

  “Can I come?”

  “You want to come and do homework with me? Hmm, how about hell to the no?”

  “Come on, Mya, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve hung out.”

  “That was different.” Her brows drew together. “That was with the group.”

  “So this could be our group.”

  “Two people hanging out is not a group, it’s a pair. It’s… weird.”

  “But I’ve never been to your aunt’s house.”

  “Because we’re not friends.” Mya darted around me, hurrying out of the building, but I gave chase.

  I needed her.

  “Mya, wait up.” She was already weaving between the cars in the parking lot. “How are you getting home?” I knew Felicity usually gave her a ride and she was with Jason.

  “They’re called legs,” she yelled over her shoulder. “You should try using them someday.” She had the balls to wink at me.

  Shit, this gir
l. She was like no one else I’d ever met. Ever since Mya Hernandez had arrived at Rixon High a couple of months back, she’d slid right into our group. Flick had been tasked with taking the Philly transfer under her wing, but Mya didn’t need a babysitter. She’d proved that more than once.

  Mya Hernandez was a fighter. Not scared to wade into a fight to protect those she cared about. But it wasn’t her strength that intrigued me. It was her scars. The ones she thought she kept hidden.

  Cussing out the stubborn girl, a new plan hatched when thunder rumbled overhead. I ran to my Jeep and ducked inside just as the first fat drops of rain began to fall. Throwing it into reverse, I backed out of the lot and tailed Mya as she pulled up her hood and hurried down the sidewalk.

  Slowing to a crawl, I wound down the passenger window. “Get in,” I yelled.

  “What?” She glared at me. “No. No!”

  “A ride,” I explained. “That’s all I’m offering.”

  “Just a ride? Because if this is a ploy to get an invitation into my aunt’s house, it won’t work.” Rain pelted down on Mya, dripping off the peak of her hood and onto her thick lashes.

  “You need me, Hernandez, admit it.” I leaned over and pushed open the door, waiting. “Get in.”

  To my surprise and relief, Mya climbed inside, shaking off her hood before pushing it down. Her tight spiral curls seemed wilder, framing her face.

  “Thanks.” She belted up and tucked her hands under her thighs.

  “Scared you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself?” I teased, expecting some sassy retort. But Mya was quiet, too fucking quiet.

  “Mya?” I asked.

  “Just drive, Asher.” She gave a resigned sigh, as if she’d broken her cardinal rule by accepting a ride home from me.

  And I didn’t know which cut worse.

  That she was disappointed at herself for giving in to me. Or the fact she felt the need to resist me in the first place.

  Chapter Three

  Mya

  “Well, this is me.” Asher’s Jeep slowed to a stop outside my Aunt Ciara’s house. It was an old farmhouse style place on the edge of town. A world away from the likes of Asher’s house with its huge yard, double garage, and lakeside setting. His was one of the biggest houses in town, a constant reminder that me and my new friend—and I used the term loosely—had completely different lives.

  I was the girl from the hood, running from her past and trying to hold it together long enough to finish senior year. While Asher was… well, he was the All-American boy next door. Popular, athletic, and drop dead gorgeous—if you liked that kind of thing. Messy blond hair, pantie-melting blue eyes, and a smile so charming he had half the town falling at his feet.

  He was also a giant pain in the ass.

  Unlucky for me, his chosen ass of the moment was mine.

  “Thanks for the ride.” I began to shoulder the door, but he snagged my wrist. My eyes flew to where his fingers curled around my wrist; his sun-kissed skin still three shades lighter than my caramel skin.

  Just another reminder of everything that was different about us.

  “Invite me in, Hernandez. I bet your aunt would love to meet me.” He had the audacity to wink. I smothered a groan.

  “My aunt isn’t exactly a fan.” My brow rose, gaze darting to where he was still holding me. Asher released my wrist and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Let me guess, she doesn’t want a Raider sniffing around her niece?”

  “Try, white boy,” I murmured beneath my breath.

  “What did you just say?” Asher said. “Because I know you didn’t just say what I think you said.”

  “Nothing,” I bit out. “I said nothing.”

  His eyes narrowed, searching my hardened expression for the truth. “Your aunt got a problem with the color of my skin, Hernandez?” He actually sounded offended. “She doesn’t even know me.”

  “Welcome to my world.”

  “Nobody cares about that shit, Mya. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s the twenty-first century.”

  “And the fact you just said that tells me everything I need to know.” Indignation skittered up my spine. “Thanks again for the ride. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” I slipped out of the Jeep, my chest tight with frustration.

  Of course Asher didn’t get what it was like for me in a place like Rixon. Why would he? He was a guy. A privileged white guy, born and raised here.

  He was also a Rixon Raider.

  Something I’d quickly learned meant something around here.

  I didn’t look back as I hurried toward my aunt’s porch. She wasn’t home, rarely was thanks to her job at the Seven-Eleven in the next town over. But I didn’t want to tell Asher that. He was worse than a dog with a bone and I knew if he realized I was home alone, he’d find a way inside, and then I’d never get rid of him.

  Almost home free, I let out a small sigh of relief but then his voice made every muscle in my body lock up.

  “What the fuck just happened?”

  I swung around to find Asher standing there, his eyes full of apology and confusion. He looked so freakin’ adorable, in an annoyingly cute puppy-dog kind of way.

  “Go home, Asher.” I remained guarded. Because if you gave Asher Bennet even half an inch, he wouldn’t hesitate to take a mile.

  “Mya, come on. What was all that?”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” I whispered, hating the icy fingers of vulnerability wrapping around my throat.

  “Try me.” He stepped forward, taking the air with him. Which was ridiculous since we were standing outside, surrounded by nothing but the chilly Pennsylvanian air.

  “Asher… please…” I didn’t want to do this. Not here. Not now.

  Least of all on my aunt’s porch.

  “Mya…” he countered, determination burning in his baby blues.

  “Thirty minutes and then you’re gone.”

  “If that’s your attempt at an invitation inside, I gotta say, you really need to work on your manners, Hernandez.”

  Rolling my eyes, I dug out my key and opened the door, not waiting for Asher as I slipped inside. I’d lived here for almost three months, but my Aunt Ciara’s house still didn’t feel like home.

  I wasn’t sure it ever would.

  “Nice place,” Asher said, the door clicking softly behind him. Although it might as well have been a gunshot to the heart, the way it reverberated through me. Making me painfully aware that we were all alone. In my territory.

  The only place I had in Rixon to call mine.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “You got any snacks back there?” Asher craned his neck, his amused gaze going over my shoulder.

  “Come on,” I grumbled, “I’ll see what I can find.” If there was one thing I’d learned about Asher Bennet since my short time at Rixon High, it was that the boy could eat. Sometimes, I wasn’t sure where he put it all. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, nothing but solid muscle pulled taut over broad shoulders and narrow hips.

  He followed me into the kitchen and took a seat at the counter. “Your aunt’s not here, is she?”

  “You caught that, huh?”

  “Were you lying to me, Hernandez?”

  “I was… maybe.” I sighed, getting to work on making him a sandwich. “We only have turkey, cheese, and some questionable pickles.”

  “It’ll do.” He made himself comfortable. “So how long has your aunt lived in Rixon?”

  “Since I was little. I never visited her before though.” She always came to us. Mom never spoke much about why her only sister moved away from Philly, but as I grew up, I pieced together the story. My aunt Ciara had run. Escaped the neighborhood for a better life. She was older than Mom by almost a decade, and as soon as she graduated high school, she packed a bag and got the hell out of dodge.

  “What you said before, about me being white, would that really be a problem for her?”

  Sandwich made, I pushed the plate towa
rd Asher and grimaced. “Yes… and no. My aunt met a man here. A white man. I don’t know the whole story, but I heard my mama talking once and whatever went down between them, my aunt and the man, it wasn’t good.”

  “Wow, okay.” Asher took a huge bite of the sandwich, barely chewing it before he swallowed. “So I’m going to be judged based on one man’s actions. How progressive of her.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Rixon isn’t exactly diverse.”

  He shrugged, taking another bite. “But we’re not all the racists you paint us to be either.”

  “Do you realize how bigoted you sound right now?”

  “I don’t—”

  “I left my home, my very diverse neighborhood, and moved to the ass crack of nowhere where football is religion and I’m one of only a handful of kids to walk the halls at school who don’t fit the white profile.”

  Asher straightened, his expression hardening. If I didn’t know better, I would have said he looked possessive. But that opened a whole other can of worms I wasn’t ready for.

  “Has someone said something to you?” he asked. “Because if they have—”

  Leaning back against the counter, I let out an exasperated breath. “Asher, listen to what I’m saying. It isn’t about what people are or aren’t doing or saying…” It was, but that wasn’t the point right now. “It’s about how alienating it can feel for someone who wasn’t born here, who isn’t white, to try to assimilate while staying true to their roots.”

  Asher’s brows crinkled as he quietly processed my words. I didn’t want to have this conversation, especially not with him. But over the last few weeks, Asher had wormed his way into my life. Whether I’d wanted him to or not.

  “I guess I didn’t think…” He dragged a hand down his face.

  “It’s okay. It’s tough being a Raider.” I teased, wanting nothing more than to deflect the limelight away from me.

  “You’d tell me though, right, if someone did say anything to you about… you know?”

  “About the fact I’m a Latina girl from the hood?”