Secret Catch

by Cassie Mae

  “So, the new thing I learned today? The truth about the feud—which is crazy if you ask me. One good thing? Seeing Tyler’s smile. It always makes me feel happy. I think if it was a dark grey day, his smile could bring some light into it. And yep, I just admitted that to you, Dad. I’m not even embarrassed. Okay… maybe a little.”

  I allow myself a small laugh before sinking down onto my bed and burying my face in my pillow. My heart breaks for me. It breaks for Mom. It shatters for Josh—that he has to grow up in this broken family. I don’t know if he’ll even remember what it used to be like. At least I’ll remember.

  I’ll remember Dad and the fun all of us used to have. All he’ll know is a depressed Mom, a dead Dad, and a sister who tries and fails to make it right.

  The heat from the flames causes a light sheen of sweat to cover my forehead. If I wasn’t dating Sam I think burning the Skyhawk flag would be more satisfying. I have to keep reminding myself of Jacoby’s broken leg, his jersey, my missing jersey, and our beat up locker room. Watching the evil bird go up in flames on their football field actually feels pretty good when I focus on all the shit they’ve done to us.

  “Ah…it’s a beautiful thing,” Fredrickson says, taking off his Braves cap and holding it over his heart. I slug him hard in the arm for being a dink.

  “All right guys,” Daniels calls from the end of the Trojan line, “time to check out.”

  My brow furrows and I gesture to the flagpole up in smoke. “We aren’t gonna put it out?” Because damn, if we set the whole school on fire we’re facing a whole lot more jail time.

  “Don’t worry, Koontz. They’ll find it before it spreads.”

  Daniels leads the way off the field over to the girls who’ve lined the home bleachers with maple syrup. That really knots my gut because Sam sits here. And if she brought Josh, he’d sit here, too. I feel like I’m not just attacking the team anymore, but people who had nothing to do with the locker room trash.

  “That’s the last bottle,” Charly says with a final squeeze of the Mrs. Butterworth’s. Erica hip-checks her, then jumps from the third row onto Fredrickson’s back. She plants a kiss on his cheek and steals his hat from his head.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she says, and Fredrickson nearly topples over to get her to the parking lot, but a flash of headlights stops him halfway.

  “Guys, go out the back gate!” he yells, pushing Erica off him and shoving her toward the other end. “Now, guys! Now!”

  I don’t know if it’s the cops or the Skyhawks, but either way, I don’t want to find out. The guys find their girls and help them off the bleachers, and the other half of the team bolts to the fence. I’m one of the fastest runners, but my feet stop when I hear my name shouted across the field.

  “Tyler!” Charly calls out from the middle row. She’s getting stuck in her own syrup mess, and I backtrack to help her out of it. We end up slipping her from her shoe, she climbs on my back, and I hop down to the field. Then we’re both on the ground running.

  Woods clears the fence first, and he and Daniels help the girls up and over. Erica and Charly are the last ones, and then the team scrambles as a rush of Skyhawks flood the field.

  It’s not just football players. I can tell by the size of the crowd and some stupid part of me wonders if Sam is out there. But she’s with Josh tonight, and I try to remember that as I leap up, wrap my fingers around the chain link, and hoist myself to the other side.

  “Girls, you need to run!” I yell, because I know the guys are gonna wait till we’re all in the clear, but the girls need to get the hell out of here.

  Fredrickson and Young are halfway up the chain link when the Skyhawks reach them. Young manages a kick to a linebacker’s face before climbing out of reach. But Fredrickson gets a hand wrapped around his ankle, and he’s tugged back into the crowd. Immediately I’m up against the fence, and I’m not the only one.

  “Get the hell off him!” Daniels shouts, drowning out the obscenities I’m throwing, along with Woods and Gunderson. Erica’s screaming and crying, and I can’t even get pissed at her for not running the hell away because I’m sure Sam would’ve stayed if it was me.

  The Skyhawk quarterback locks Fredrickson in an arm-bar and pulls, and we all know if he pulls anymore it’ll snap. It gets quiet on our side of the fence, and eventually the Skyhawks quiet down, too.

  “Let him go,” Erica croaks. Charly puts a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs it off. “Please.”

  “You gonna clean up that shit you just pulled?” the quarterback spits, then twists Fredrickson’s arm again. The veins are starting to poke out enough it’s making me sick to my stomach. By the look on Fredrickson’s face, he may pass out any second.

  Erica doesn’t answer, she just keeps saying please and Daniels’ jaw clenches tighter and tighter the longer they hold onto our punter. No one’s saying a damn thing, and I can’t take watching Fredrickson like this.

  “Let him go, and we’ll call a truce,” I pipe up. Heads swivel my way. I breathe heavily into the air, watching the mist rise from my lips, then swallow. “You guys trashed our locker room, we trashed your field. We’re even, and we can settle the rest of this shit during the game.”

  I’m throwing out whatever I can, but the second I see the blondish head and broad shoulders part the crowd to come up to the fence, I know there isn’t a chance in hell they’re letting him go.

  Nolan pushes against the chain link in front of my face. “You shut your damn mouth about evening the score, eighty-eight. If we’re playing by those rules, I owe you a right hook to the chin.”

  “You broke Jacoby’s leg!”

  “I was evening the score,” he spits in my face. I don’t even bother wiping it off. “He was asking for it, and he knows that.”

  “What the hell did he do to you?”

  Nolan smirks and I nearly climb the fence again just to have another chance to knock the bastard’s lights out.

  Erica sobs, clutching the chain link. “I’ll clean it up, I promise,” she throws out in hysterics. “Please, I’ll clean it, just let him go.”

  Fredrickson’s turning blue in the choke hold he’s in, and his arm is bent dangerously close to a complete backwards angle. Nolan nods to the quarterback, and he slowly loosens his grip. The whole team takes a collective breath.

  “Stay off our turf,” he says straight to Erica and she nods hard, glossy eyes wide.

  Fredrickson takes a step toward her, toward the fence, but before he can get any closer, Nolan turns and lays a fist to his nose, a deafening crunch echoing around us. Erica slams against the fence, along with the rest of us.

  “Get off him!”

  Nolan lays another hook in Fredrickson’s face, and I don’t even know what the other guys are doing, but I’m back on the fence and climbing. Heat’s rolling through my chest and neck and it’s propelling my body up and over this thing like I’m Spiderman.

  I hear another punch…another, then another, and I don’t care how far the ground is now, I leap off the fence and land with a sting to my feet. Daniels is on Nolan, and that guy’s huge, so I tackle him, too, forgetting the fact he’s related to Sam, that I should stop myself from hitting him. I pull my arm back, ready to land a fist into that spot that knocked him out, but instead of my conscience stopping me, sirens do.

  My breath comes out in panicked puffs, and they match Nolan’s wide eyes. Cops? No. Fire department? Maybe. Either way, we have to scram. Daniels lets go of Nolan at the same time I do, and we both grapple for Fredrickson to help him over this damn fence.

  “Come on, man,” I say to him. His face is a bloody mess, nose smashed in and eyes watering. The corner of his lip is gushing. “You gotta climb.”

  The Skyhawks disperse from behind us as the sirens get louder. Woods, Daniels, and I hoist Fredrickson up, and he weakly pulls himself over the tallest part of the fence. The other guys on the team help him down the other side and as soon as we’re all off the Skyhawk field, we bolt.


  I don’t know what the hell just happened, adrenaline still taking up nearly all the space in my head and body, but when we reach the crossroad between the Skyhawk/Trojan line, Fredrickson crumples to the ground, finally passing out from the broken nose and the blood. Erica pulls her phone out and calls his dad, and Daniels orders us to get home so it doesn’t look like a team thing. He has to shove my ass down the road because I don’t want to leave Fredrickson like that, but Daniels stays, and so does Erica, so I let Gunderson tug me down the street.

  My whole body is shaking when I step inside my house. Hunter’s standing in the kitchen, carton of orange juice halfway to his mouth when his brow furrows as he looks at me.

  “What the hell happened to you?”

  I don’t answer him, because I can’t even begin to dissect what happened to me, and I march straight for the bathroom. I’m stripped and cranking the water to blazing hot in less than thirty seconds.

  If this shower wasn’t made out of marble, I’d punch a hole through the wall.

  ***

  I should’ve known Sam would find out the same night. I also should’ve known she’d show up at my house at ten past one in the morning, even though I told her to keep her distance when we talked earlier. Her text tells me she’s on my porch, and I nearly text back for her to get out of here before someone sees, but I end up yanking on my Titans sweats over my boxers and tossing a hoodie over my head.

  “Damn it,” I say, pulling her inside my dark foyer. It’d be safer if she was found by my parents than by any wandering Skyhawk or Trojan. “You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper into her hair. A groan vibrates through my chest as I take in her scent.

  Her fingers dig into my back. “I had to make sure you were okay.”

  “I told you on the phone I was fine.”

  “Not good enough.”

  She reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses me, her fingernails still clawing at my back. I hold her cheek and return her kiss, and the tiny bit of panic rolling through me just dissipates.

  “You’re not mad?” I ask as we slowly open our eyes. Does she even get how damn gorgeous she is even without the light bringing out her features?

  “Why would I be mad?”

  “Uh…we set fire to your flag.”

  “Mmmhmm,” she answers, kissing my neck. My eyes roll back while my head falls to her shoulder.

  “And trashed your bleachers…”

  “Yep.”

  “And I almost laid a fist into your cousin… again.”

  She keeps quiet at that one, but her lips stay against mine in desperate and erotic movements. Ah hell, I gotta get her out of here before anyone in my family comes down and catches me with a hard-on.

  I wrap my hands around her wrists and pry out of her grip. Putting an arm’s length between us, I calm myself down and ask, “How can you not be mad?”

  She blinks a few times and takes a couple breaths, obviously as worked up as I am. “All I could think about was you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She pauses, watching my face. I try to force the sincerity of what I’m saying through my eyes, but I can’t. And she can see it. I’m far from “fine.”

  I drop my forehead on her shoulder and pinch my eyes shut. Her fingers come up around my neck, and she tugs a little on my hair.

  “Let’s go somewhere.”

  “Right now?” I muffle in her shirt.

  She nods. “Neutral territory, I promise.”

  It sucks that she has to add that. I wish I could just worry about sneaking out of my house. Nah, I gotta worry about sneaking around everything.

  “Okay,” I say, standing straight. “Neutral territory.”

  I grab the extra set of house keys, and we sneak out my front door. We speed-walk to her car, and I lay the seat all the way back when I get in.

  Sam finds my hand as she takes us to…I have no clue. She talks about how Josh skinned his knee and how he can’t wait to show it to me. Apparently Sam didn’t play the cool scar card when he told her about it. A smile twitches on my lips, and it shouldn’t feel weird that it’s there, but it does.

  Her foot taps the brake, and she lets go of my hand to put the car in park. I adjust the seat as she reaches behind me and grabs a football.

  “Help me with my spiral?” she asks with a grin. I lean in and peck her once on the lips because she gets it. Gets me. Football solves everything, even when it’s part of the problem.

  “Your spiral is perfect.”

  “Then we’ll work on yours.”

  “Ouch. You’re as bad as your brother.”

  “Calling ‘em like I see ‘em, Koontz.” She gives me another quick peck before unbuckling and jumping out to the field. There’s a slight wind, and the air is chilly, but after a few throws, I’m sure we’ll be fine.

  Her first pass is perfect. Right to my chest from twenty yards away. I jog around and toss back, making her chase it a little. She’s good though. Catches it and does a touchdown dance. I laugh, letting the sound take off in the wind and be as loud as it wants to be.

  “Okay, condom boy,” she says after about ten minutes. She puts the ball in my hands and stands at a running position. “Give me a tough one, if you can.”

  I smirk and motion for her to start running. She takes off, but I chase after her, snatching her waist and rolling so when we fall, she lands on me.

  “That was not what I meant!” She giggles and screams, and I like it out here where we can be together without any shit.

  I toss the football over my head and roll her so she’s flat on her back. My eyes find hers, and I take her wrists in one hand and hold them above her head. I give her a look that says I’m about to kiss the hell out of her. She licks her lips, smiling hard, but I grab her stomach instead with my other hand, opting for tickling her.

  “Tyler! Stop!”

  “No way, evil bird,” I say through my own laughter.

  “I’ll knee your junk!”

  Without thinking, I let go of her wrists to hold her knees, but I forgot how tough Sam is and next thing I know, I’m the one on my back while she pins my arms against my sides.

  “Truce?” I offer up with a casual grin.

  She bends down and kisses the tip of my nose. “Only because you’re cute.” She rolls on her back next to me, resting her head against my shoulder. Our breath fogs in front of our mouths as we breathe hard into the night air. I reach out and grab her hand.

  “Thanks for this,” I tell her.

  “You miss it, don’t you?”

  “Every day.”

  “Football cures everything, even when it’s part of the problem.”

  Did I say that out loud before? I turn to look at her, but she’s focused on the sky.

  “When do you get back on the field?” she asks.

  “Next week, if Coach doesn’t find out about what happened tonight.”

  “I’m sure the Skyhawks will keep it as hush, hush as they can.” Her voice lowers. “Fredrickson could press charges though. Then it could blow out.”

  “He won’t do that.”

  She squeezes my fingers, and I watch as a small, white fuzz drops onto her cheek.

  “You caught the first snowflake,” I say, leaning over to kiss it off. I feel her cheeks twitch as she smiles.

  “Tyler?”

  “Mmm?”

  Her neck turns so our foreheads are pressed together. I reach up and stroke her face, not able to keep from touching her.

  She nuzzles into my hand before letting out a sigh. “I want to tell people.”

  My eyebrows rise. “What?”

  “I’m not trying to complain,” she says, turning back to the sky. “I know we can’t, but I want to.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say like an idiot. But I can’t tell her to go shout it out. Not after what happened tonight. I’d hate for her to get caught up in the shit, or even worse, get hurt with it.

  “Nothing to be sorry about, Tyler. I get it. I’m fine with what we’re doing and ho
w we’re doing it. It’s just…there are moments when I want to say something.”

  I turn on my side, resting my head on my knuckles and slowly play with the bottom of her jacket. “What kind of moments?”

  “I don’t know. Like, if I were to ever see you with a big group of girls for example, I’d want to march right up to you and grab your hand. Then I’d shoot them all the evil eye and tell them ‘He’s mine. Keep your paws off!’”

  I laugh, letting my fingers trail from on top of her jacket to underneath it. Her stomach has got to be a thousand degrees.

  Her breathing changes a little, but she otherwise doesn’t acknowledge my hand on her skin. “And there are other times when…”

  “When…?”

  She shrugs, turning to look at me again. “When I know you’re about to do something great and I want to be a part of it. Like your game next week. We both know you’re going to catch the winning touchdown.”

  We both laugh, and I travel a little farther up her stomach.

  “Well, when that happens, I want to be the girl who rushes on the field, leaps up on your smoking hot and sweaty body, and kisses you right there in front of everyone.”

  My eyes fall closed as I imagine that scenario. I hiss out a “hot damn” and Sam laughs.

  “See?”

  I open my eyes and grin. “Yeah, there are moments when I want to tell people, too.”

  Her eyebrows pull together in a worry line. I knock my head against hers to get her to cut that out. She doesn’t need to worry about me.

  “I know we can’t,” I say, using her words. “But I want to. Hell, if things were different, I bet you a million bucks every guy on the team would know who you were. You’d be dragged places you’d never want to go with the team girlfriends, and there’s no way you wouldn’t know my family already. We’d have already been through the awkward first dinner where my brothers throw out sexual innuendos any chance they get. My dad would be sizing you up to make sure you aren’t distracting me from my ‘career.’ Parker would be battling me for your attention, and my mom…”