by Mariano, Sam
Laughing despite himself, he says, “A snug napkin ring?”
Looking up at him through my eyelashes, I ask, “Oh, are not all dicks that thick? Sorry, I’ve only seen Carter’s.”
Now he loses his smile.
The alcohol compels him to act on his wounded ego rather than common sense and he grabs me around the waist, yanking me against his side. “That so? Well, come with me and I’ll be happy to introduce you to another one.”
My heart tumbles out of its cavity, but I don’t betray my nervousness. “Let go of me. I’m not some defenseless girl alone in a classroom tonight, Jake. If you don’t get your hands off me this time, I won’t tell Coach, I’ll tell Carter. Remember when he threatened me? He doesn’t want to fuck you, so I bet his threats for you would be even less pleasant.”
“You think you got him wrapped around your little finger that tight, huh?”
“Why don’t you try me and find out,” I challenge.
Jake shakes his head, his hooded gaze dropping to my lips. I don’t like the interest I see there as he murmurs, “So fuckin’ mouthy.”
Ahead of us, a woman calls out, “Next!”
I break eye contact with Jake and look ahead at the woman standing behind the concession counter. Jake doesn’t move to release me, but the woman caught his attention too, so I use the distraction to shove his arm away and step forward.
I order myself a drink and keep my gaze trained straight ahead, hoping if I stop feeding Jake attention, he’ll go away. I’m not sure whether or not he’ll still be standing there when I turn around, but I really don’t feel like dealing with him anymore tonight.
Thankfully when I turn around to head back to my seat, he’s gone.
Chapter 26
The Longhorns usher in a crushing defeat: 42-14, and the crowd goes wild. Kasey Jones from the school paper is standing on the sidelines looking through shots from the game when I make my way up there. I’m not exactly sure the proper etiquette of post-game madness. The cheerleaders are team-adjacent so they probably head inside with the guys, but I don’t know what a non-cheerleader girlfriend is supposed to do while she waits for her quarterback boyfriend.
So, I linger with Kasey and wait for Carter to spot me and hopefully fill me in on what I’m supposed to do next.
“Oh, that’s a good one,” she murmurs.
Without thought, I lean over to sneak a peek. It’s a shot of Carter mid-throw, and yeah, it’s a damn good one. I’m not even into athletes, really, but the way his muscular body looks in that uniform, his arm poised to throw the ball… damn.
Noticing my unsubtle spying, she turns the preview screen so I can see it better. “Not to pat myself on the back, but look at this shit.”
Cracking a smile, I tell her, “No, you’re right. You deserve a back-pat; that is some fine picture-taking, right there.”
Shaking her head as she turns the screen back and scrolls through, she says, “That is one damn fine specimen.”
“He’s pretty nice to look at,” I agree. “Not bad to talk to either, but if all else fails, at least he has his looks to fall back on.”
“And like a bazillion dollars. I think he’s gonna be okay.”
I nod my head, glancing her over. She doesn’t exactly look like his type, but then I’ve only seen two of his past lovers. “Are you friends?”
Snort-laughing, she says, “With Carter? God no, he doesn’t know I exist.” She misses a beat, then says, “What about you? How do you have the balls to show up at a football game? I mean, damn, kudos on your enormous lady balls, but how?”
I sort of thought I was flying under the radar tonight, so I’m surprised and a little unsure how to proceed. There’s no hostility in her tone, though, so I open my mouth to answer.
Before I have a chance, Carter comes running over, a shit-eating grin on his face. He’s sweaty and happy, and he doesn’t hesitate to grab me around the waist and pull me right up against him in all his gear.
“You see that?” he asks. “I told you I made better passes. A 71-yard touchdown pass to win the game? Not too shabby, right?”
His enthusiasm is catching and I can’t help grinning up at him. “You might as well be speaking in Latin, but I’m glad you won.”
Carter shakes his head, dark eyes sparkling with amusement. He leans down to give me a kiss, then says, “I need to teach you about football.”
“My education on that particular subject is clearly lacking,” I admit.
His hand comes up to tenderly caress my face and he kisses me again. “I’ve gotta head back to the locker room, but we’ll be out as soon as we can. Is it cool with you if Erika tags along tonight? I’ll tell her no if you don’t want her to.”
Ugh, Erika. I’ll feel mean saying she can’t come though, so I offer back, “It’s up to you.”
“That’s a no,” he interprets, nodding. “All right, no problem.” He kisses me again, then releases me before I can respond and jogs back out on the field where his teammates are still celebrating.
I look over where the cheerleaders are gathered and see Erika eyeing me up. Resisting the urge to glare back, I turn my attention back to Kasey, realizing Carter did just act like he couldn’t even see her. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Carter is well-known, but not too long ago, I was one of those dust specks he couldn’t even see.
Kasey is staring at me. “How did that happen?”
“Long story,” I offer.
Her eyebrows rise, then fall, then she shakes her head. “Well, be careful. Erika has been known to play dirty. Last year she slashed some girl’s tires for daring show up to a game and steal Carter’s attention, and I did an expose on the actual effects of sugar in a gas tank after she caramelized the art teacher’s pistons like she was making a nice car part crème brulèe. Of course I had to pretend I didn’t know it was her or risk inciting her wrath myself, but she treats bitchiness like a competition and she aims to win it.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I murmur. “I’m not afraid of Erika.”
“You probably should be. She’s fucking crazy.”
Cocking my head to the side, I ask, “Why don’t I know you?”
Blushing and cracking a wry smile, she says, “We clearly don’t run in the same circles. I’ve been photographing these games for two years, and if pressed, I doubt anyone on the team could come up with my name.”
Unfortunately, that sounds about right. Rolling my eyes, I tell her, “They can be really oblivious, can’t they?”
She nods, but her gaze isn’t trained on me, it’s focused behind me with a hint of concern glistening in her eyes. I turn my head to see where she’s looking, and see something out of a nightmare—Jake and Erika approaching, side by side.
“Ugh, really?” I mutter.
Erika looks smug. That can’t be good. She smirks at me as she comes to a stop. “Hey, buddy.”
“What’s up, pal?” I offer back.
“Just thought I’d come over and say hi. How was the party after I left?”
“Somehow, we still managed to have fun,” I tell her.
“Oh, I bet you did. Judgin’ by your presence at the game tonight, I guess you fucked Carter, huh? You must feel pretty proud of yourself.”
Frowning, I say, “That seems like an odd feeling to accompany intimacy with my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” Her eyes widen and she stares at me, but maintains her superior sense of amusement. “Oh, honey. He’s gonna chew you up and spit you out.”
“Well, if he does, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the show,” I offer. I barely miss a beat, not wanting to give her a chance to further engage me. “Anyway, good cheering. I’ve got plans, so I have to—”
Interrupting before I can leave, she says, “You know what Jake and I were just discussin’?”
Sighing, I spin back around and offer back a tight smile. “How neither of you are invited to the group-hang tonight, so maybe you should both stop acting like assholes before you lose all your friends?�
�
Erika’s gaze dims, then sharpens. “No, whore. We were talkin’ about how surprisingly kinky you must be, how much you like a little… struggle.”
Her word choice alone wouldn’t be enough to set me on edge, but the way her eyes dance with delight in the shit she thinks she’s about to stir up… Jake couldn’t have actually told her, right? They all behaved like randy assholes. That’s not a story you share with anyone, not even Erika.
She goes on, “And Jake here had a thought. We all know Carter has double standards; he’s allowed to fuck around, no problem, but his girl? Oh, no. She has to be the pinnacle of morality, a real one-man woman.”
“I don’t think Carter’s that hung up on morality, but if there’s a point anywhere in the near vicinity…”
“I just think if Carter knew you were still flirtin’ with Jake, he might get… angry. Brianna said he got you drunk last night so I don’t know what he’s done to you already, but you know what? I bet it gets worse with jealousy and anger.”
My jaw hangs open as I stare in absolute shock at the awful human being before me. “Wow, Erika. Really?”
She shrugs. “Lorraine saw you and Jake touchin’ and lockin’ eyes at the concession stand. Said you were givin’ him fuck-me eyes. Now, I would say that Carter would never believe you could be romantically interested in someone who supposedly sexually harassed you.” She pauses, propping a hand on her hip and tapping her chin in mock thought. “But, you know what, maybe he would believe that.”
My chest starts to tighten as it hits me that Erika really does know what Carter did to me that day in that classroom. Something about keeping that experience locked away inside me—a secret kept between me and those three assholes—made it easier to deal with, but now it’s not just out there, it’s in Erika’s hands.
Erika’s opinion doesn’t mean anything to me, but her having that knowledge makes me sick. It’s not safe anymore. It’s not like she’ll keep her mouth shut. I want to punch Jake in the face for exploiting my bad experience this way, but that would require breathing, and I’m struggling with that right now.
A flash goes off and Erika jumps, her gaze darting to Kasey like she, too, hadn’t even noticed her there. “What the hell? Did you just take my picture?”
Kasey nods, looking down at her display screen. “Yep. I’m a photographer for the school yearbook, and I thought you just looked so pretty. My bad, I actually had the video function on before, so… whoops. Anyway, after I accidentally recorded you threatening Carter’s girlfriend, I got a really great shot of you. Your jawline looks killer. Wanna see?”
Glaring, Erika says, “Delete that right now.”
“Um, no,” she says, shaking her head with something like regret. “This girl’s been dragged through the mud enough by you guys. Carter really seems to like her, so I hate to think what he’d do if I showed it to him. He’d probably knock you so far down the social ladder, you’d actually have to learn my name.”
“Oh, I’ll learn your name, all right.” Erika glares and huffs like a beautiful, raging bull. “You’re gonna live to regret this. Mark my words.”
Her targeting my new friend shakes my voice loose. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. I am going to tell Carter about this, and he won’t believe I was flirting with Jake, but even without video evidence, he will believe you threatened me, especially after that lie you told last night when he pissed you off.”
“Wasn’t a lie,” she states. “You know it wasn’t a lie, you just have blinders on right now. You’re gonna feel dumb as hell when they fall off, and you’re the one watchin’ from a distance while he kisses me like you don’t exist.”
“Why would you want him back? I’m not even tryin’ to be mean, but he told me how awful he was to you. He knows you’ll put up with it, so it wouldn’t change. Carter only plays within boundaries if he has to, and you’ve already shown him you don’t have any. If he cheats on you with some girl, you’ll be vicious to her and try to hold onto him. That’s crazy. Alienating the symptom won’t eliminate the disease.”
My words only serve to further infuriate her. “You think you’re so much different? I literally told you he fucked around with me when you left him high and dry, and you still fucked him last night. You may have some genius GPA, but don’t fool yourself, Zoey; you’re no smarter than I am when it comes to Carter.”
Shaking my head, at a loss for how to grasp this situation, I say, “This is a bizarre conversation. You’re calling both of us stupid. You’re not just insulting me, you’re including yourself.”
“I’m not stupid, I’m realistic,” she states, lifting her chin with an infusion of stubbornness. “That’s why I’m the one who will end up keeping Carter. You have unrealistic expectations about him, and he’ll never live up to them. As soon as he disappoints you, as soon as you stop believin’ his bullshit and withdraw, he’ll drop your ass and come runnin’ back to me. I’ve seen this dog and pony show before, Zoey. You’re not the first. You won’t be the last. But I will be.”
I shake my head, unwilling to stand here and listen to her a moment longer. I can’t leave Kasey here now either, so I glance at her. “Are you done taking pictures? I’ve gotta meet Carter, so we should probably go.”
She stares blankly for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. I’m done.”
I nod and turn, walking away. “Come on, then.”
She jogs a few steps to catch up, then falls into step beside me. Her cheeks are rosy and she sighs, telling me, “I shouldn’t have done that. Standing up to Erika. She’s going to shiv me in the kidney.”
Cracking a smile, I tell her, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell Carter everything she said. I’ll tell him you stuck up for me. I’m sure he’ll tell her to leave you alone, too. You may have noticed, but Carter carries a lot of weight around here, especially with that psycho.”
“Well, yeah, since apparently she aspires to be his constantly cheated-on Stepford wife,” Kasey volunteers.
“Right? Strange goals. I hate when she says shit like that though, she gets in my head,” I admit, since she was there, too. Maybe I’m too biased to see the truth clearly, but this girl has no investment in the situation, so perhaps she sees something I don’t.
“I get that, but honestly, I think she’s gaslighting you,” she tells me. “Being a jealous girlfriend herself, she knows exactly how to access that part of your brain. She knows which seeds of doubt to plant, she knows how to fertilize them for optimal damage… I mean, I don’t know, Carter could be cheating on you, but I wouldn’t take her word for it. She would absolutely lie about that. Hell, she’d run you off the road and into a ditch. The cheerleader is crazy.”
Chapter 27
Carter drove his Mustang to school today, so I ride with him and everyone else meets us at the nearby café where they gather after Friday night games. When we get there, the place is packed. The café stays open late on game nights because so many locals come here—partially to eat, even though they could have eaten similar food at the concession stand, and partially to see the players, exchange smiles with the guys responsible for putting them in such a good mood, and extend the high of the big win they usually ushered in.
Accordingly, I almost never come here. Grace and I prefer the coffee shop, far away from the jocks and their fans—even before they all hated me, but now, definitely.
Only when I walk through the doors tonight, it’s with Carter’s arm draped around my shoulder like a mantle of protection, and his friends crowded around me like my own personal entourage.
When we come into view, a few people call out comments like, “Hell of a game, son,” and “that’s some arm you’ve got there!” No one notices me, so my anxiety about a lukewarm reception melts. They all have Carter vision, and he’s playing his role well. I have my Carter, and they have theirs, and tonight, he has to convey his golden jock façade, not the more truthful face of my boyfriend/tormentor.
I feel a strange closeness to him though, knowing I see a side of him
other people don’t have access to. I hate all of this—even his arm around me while all these people gush at him makes me feel like I’m on display, even though they’re paying me no attention whatsoever. I’m the girl on his arm, and I’m so not that girl.
But he’s not really that guy, either. I tell myself that as we finally make our way to the table. Carter had to stop and bullshit with people at three different tables before we made it to ours.
When we finally slide into our seats—the same side of the booth, with Cartwright and Brianna across from us—I lean in to Carter and murmur, “Do you think you’ll miss this?”
His gaze meets mine. “Miss what?”
I blink, figuring it’s clear, but I guess this is his normal. Gesturing around, I say, “The fanfare. The small town celebrity status. You’re a big fish here. When you go off to college, you’ll be in a significantly bigger pond.”
Stretching his arm around me and leaning back in the booth, he says, “Bigger pond just offers more room to grow.”
He’s so confident, so unshakably sure of his future. I’m confident in myself, but I wonder what it’s like to be like him, to literally have no doubts because you know there’s a safety net if you ever fall.
On one hand, I tell myself it’s better I’ll have to work for everything I get, that I’ll appreciate it more, but on the other hand, it really would be nice if things could just be easy for once. Nothing is ever easy for me, and everything is always easy for him.
We are such different people.
Our minds are in very different places, too, because Carter smirks and leans in to kiss the side of my face, murmuring, “You’re not already worried about me going off to school, are you?”
