The Trouble With You

by L A Cotton

  Asher clapped me on the back before making his way over to his Jeep.

  “Yo, Chase,” it was Jase’s voice. “Are you coming to Bell’s?” He started walking over, a few guys lingering behind, waiting for their QB to give the order.

  “I need to get home.”

  “Come on, bro, we always celebrate a win together.” He was right, we did. But I wasn’t feeling it tonight.

  “I’m needed back at the house.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

  “I know your mom has got stuff going on, but it’s senior year.” He sounded irritated. “They know you need to prioritize the team. You don’t have to feel gui—”

  “Tomorrow I’m there, okay?” I offered him a small nod, hoping he’d drop it.

  He studied me for a couple seconds longer and then shrugged. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Jase was pissed but he didn’t get it.

  Maybe he never would.

  And until recently, it had never been a problem.

  Hailee

  Since I’d attended the football game with her last night, Flick agreed to humor me at The Alley. It was our usual hangout, mostly because the football team rarely came around here. They preferred to go to Bell’s, a bar downtown. The owner there was a huge football fan, letting the team come and go as they pleased. Needless to say, I avoided it at all costs. Even if they did have the best chili fries in town.

  But The Alley was cool. It had roller skating; bowling; a small arcade; a diner; and, on a weekend, Tate, the owner, let local bands perform. He wasn’t like Jerry, the owner of Bell’s, who let the team drink and get up to no good, but it was still a good time.

  The second reason I loved The Alley so much... It sat right on the Rixon/Rixon East divide with amazing views of the Susquehanna River. It was like my very own Switzerland. A football free zone, untouched by the rivalry between the Raiders and the Eagles. Anyone was welcome to hang out here, but Tate would kick your ass to the curb quicker than you could say ‘go Raiders’ if he got wind of any trouble.

  Did I mention Tate was my kind of people?

  “So, did you hate it as much as you expected?” Flick asked me as we got our milkshakes, and bacon and cheese fries and found a table.

  “It was… okay, I guess. But I won’t be rushing to get my tickets for next week’s game.”

  “Spoilsport.” She poked out her tongue at me. “The guys looked hot though, right? In those tight pants and shoulder pads.” She practically panted.

  “Doesn’t really do it for me.” I shrugged as I stirred strawberry sauce patterns in my shake.

  “I’m sorry,” Flick choked out. “But are you blind?”

  “I just don’t find football players hot.” Except maybe one but he was an asshole that I wanted nothing to do with. Ever. Again.

  Flick scrutinized me, her narrowed eyes searching my face. “What?” I asked, uncomfortable with her probing gaze.

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “Am not.” Great comeback, idiot.

  “Hails…”

  “Flick…” I met her steely gaze with my own.

  “It’s him, isn’t it? Cameron? Has he gotten under your skin?”

  “What? No.”

  “You’re being cagey. I know something happened. You might as well tell me now or I’ll only—”

  “Fine,” I hissed. “Fine. Just keep it down, okay?” My eyes surveyed the immediate vicinity for any kids from school. Shuffling closer to the table, I leaned forward on my arms. “He kissed me.”

  “Kissed you?” Her eyes almost bugged out of her head. “And you didn’t tell me? When did this happen? Was there tongue? Was he any good?” She groaned. “Of course he was good; it’s Cameron Chase for Christ’s sake.”

  “Flick.” I gave her a pointed look. “Breathe.”

  “I… wow.” A dreamy expression washed over her. “He kissed you.” Her expression changed to a smug one. “I knew it. I knew he wanted you.”

  “Have you forgotten what he did to me?”

  “Foreplay, Sista. I’m telling you, it’s all foreplay.”

  “You have a very strange view of the world.”

  “I’m just saying, being a grade A asshole comes hand in hand with being a Raider. Those guys are… well, they’re a law unto themselves. It’s just how it is. You know Coach has all these rules about them dating and girls being a distraction.”

  “So that gives them license to sleep with half the girls at school and never call them again?” My brow rose. I wasn’t buying into it, no way.

  “That’s not what I’m saying, but the whole town puts them on this pedestal. It’s no wonder they’re the way they are when you think about it.”

  “Is there something you need to tell me?” I flipped the tables on her.

  “What? No!” She blushed and alarm bells rang out in my head. “I’m just saying…”

  “Sounds a lot like you’re defending them if you ask me.”

  “Oh, stop.” Flick shot me a bemused look. “Everyone knows the guys on the team are manwhores. They don’t date, they don’t fall, and they certainly don’t kiss girls for the sake of kissing them.” It was her turn to raise a brow.

  “They kiss girls for the sake of it all the time.”

  “Where did Cameron kiss you?”

  “W- what?” I gawked at her, feeling myself grow hot.

  “Answer the question, Hails.”

  “Where do you think he kissed me? On the mouth, dumbass.” Although I couldn’t deny the idea of him kissing me in other places had me pressing my knees together. Get a grip Hailee Raine. You hate him, remember? Hate. Him.

  “No, I mean where did he kiss you? At a party? In the hall at school? At home? In your bedroom? Dumbass.”

  “I… hmm… in the janitor’s closet at school.”

  “Oh, this just keeps getting better.” Flick smirked, amusement dancing in her eyes. “And how, pray tell, did you end up in the janitor’s closet with him?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Doesn’t matter? Are you freaking kidding me? I think it matters; I think it matters a whole lot. You like him, don’t you?”

  Like him?

  I didn’t like Cameron Chase.

  I hated him with every fiber of my being.

  “I’m not talking about this anymore,” I said, stuffing a handful of fries into my mouth.

  “Fine, but I know there’s more to it. And just remember, Hails, the truth will come out, it always does.”

  An hour later, Flick had finally given up on the idea of there being more between me and Cameron. My silent treatment every time she brought him up probably had something to do with it.

  “Hotties at two o’clock.” She side-eyed the cute guys who had just walked in as we played air hockey. “The blond is cute,” my best friend was still staring in their direction.

  “Good that I like tall, dark, and handsome then.” I flashed her a playful wink, sinking the puck in her open goal. The guys must have noticed us watching because one of them nudged the other, and they both glanced in our direction.

  “What about Cameron?”

  “Cameron who?” I cocked my head, but her smile faltered as if she saw straight through my ruse.

  “Fine, play it that way. Maybe we should invite them over?”

  “I don’t… Shit, too late.” I mumbled, dropping my eyes and whispering, “They’re coming over here.”

  Flick did a little excited squeal.

  “We’re supposed to be having girls’ night,” I protested, but she simply rolled her eyes at me.

  “What better way to make you forget all about he who shall not be named, than cute guys?”

  “I don’t know.” I glanced over at them again. They had doubled back to the counter, probably when they noticed my frown, but they kept looking over here as they ordered drinks. I’d been joking when they first walked in, hoping to throw her off Cameron’s scent. But now I wasn’t so sure I wanted them to come over here.


  “It’s on my list,” she blurted out. “Number ten, hook up with a random guy.”

  I sprayed a mouthful of soda into the air. “Easy there, who said anything about hooking up?”

  I definitely wasn’t looking for that.

  “Says you.” Flick sighed, lowering her voice. “You already lost your v-card. Now it’s my turn, Hails. I don’t want to be the only girl at college who hasn’t done it yet.”

  “Flick, come on. It wasn’t like the one time I did it was anything to shout home about.” It had been awkward and over so quick I wasn’t sure it had even happened, and I’d never seen the guy again. Not exactly a first time to remember.

  “I’m not saying I want to sleep with him.” Her gaze moved to the two guys again. “But I wouldn’t say no to second base.”

  “I don’t know—” But it was too late. The guys were already heading toward us, the blond making eyes at my best friend as the dark-haired one smiled at me. “Hey, I’m Toby.”

  “Hi,” Flick said eagerly. “I’m Felicity, this is my friend Hailee. And you are?” She directed at the other guy.

  “Jude,” he said smoothly.

  “Well, Jude, want to buy me a drink?”

  Toby and I watched as Flick grabbed his hand and gave him no choice but to follow her back to the counter. “Is she always so…” His voice trailed off.

  “No,” I said fighting a smile. “She really isn’t.” And I wasn’t sure what to make of this new version of my best friend.

  “I guess it’ll make me look like a complete jackass if I don’t ask you if you want a drink?”

  “No judgment here.” I held up my hands. Then something occurred to me. “Hey, do you live around here? I don’t recognize you from school.”

  “Ah, that would be because I go to Rixon East.”

  “I figured.”

  “I take it you’re a Raider?”

  “Is that what you’re calling us these days?” The corner of my mouth lifted. “Actually, I hate football.”

  “For real? And they haven’t cast you out yet?”

  I laughed at that. Toby was funny and he had a nice smile. “Please don’t tell me you play?”

  “Do I look like I play?” He didn’t. He was tall and lean, built more like a basketball player or swimmer than a football player. “Nah, it’s not really my thing either. I’m more of a creative type…”

  “No way, me too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, I’m hoping to go to Michigan next year to the Stamps School of Art and Design.”

  “Nice.” Toby grinned and I found myself returning the gesture. “So, I know this might seem a bit out there, but we’re actually heading to a party. Do you want to come?”

  “Is this party in Rixon East?” I asked because no way I was going to a party my brother and his jock friends might be at.

  “Yeah, it’s across the river. That a problem?”

  “It’s not a problem for me,” I replied around a smile, just as Flick and Jude returned.

  “What’s up?” Jude asked his friend.

  “I invited Hailee to come party with us. You in?” He looked at Flick and her eyes lit up, locking on Jude. “I’m in.”

  “Cool,” her new friend said. “You want to get out of here then?”

  “Sounds good.” I brushed my hands down my jeans and we followed the guys out of the building. They walked ahead slightly so Flick took the opportunity to loop her arm through mine.

  “An East party; are you sure? If Jason finds—”

  “Let him find out. He’s not my keeper, Flick. What happened to ‘oh, he’s so cute’?” I gave her a pointed look as we trailed after Jude and Toby.

  “Oh I’m in.” She grinned. “I’m just making sure you know what you’re doing.”

  “Everything okay?” Jude called over to where me and Flick had stopped. I grabbed her hand, started toward his car, and said, “Everything’s fine.”

  Despite Rixon and Rixon East being divided by the Susquehanna River, it was only a fifteen-minute ride to the party. Jude pulled up outside a country house. Cars and trucks lined the street, the faint vibration of music filtering out of windows.

  “Holy shit,” Flick whistled between her teeth. “This place is—”

  “Impressive, huh?” Toby got out and came around to open my door. I climbed out, suddenly feeling underdressed in my jeans, Vans t-shirt, and worn chucks. Rixon East was renowned for being more affluent that Rixon. Our neighborhood wasn’t poor by any stretch of the imagination, but Rixon East boasted more estates nestled in the beautiful, leafy surrounds, and exclusive rentals along the river.

  The house before us was no exception.

  “You know someone who lives here?” I gawked, and Toby chuckled. “Yeah, he’s my cousin. Come on.”

  “Cousin?” Flick mouthed as we followed the guys inside. I shrugged. It was too late now to worry about who Toby’s cousin was.

  Until we stepped inside, only to be met with a sea of red and white.

  “Hmm, Toby, who did you say your cousin was again?” Flick asked, panic flashing in her eyes as she gave me a sideways glance.

  “Lewis Thatcher, only the best damn QB in the state,” Jude chimed in.

  I almost choked on the air in my lungs. Toby’s cousin was Lewis Thatcher, QB One for the Rixon East Eagles, and Jason’s arch-nemesis.

  Shit.

  Flick’s gaze widened over his shoulder, but I shook my head discreetly. No one knew who I was. We could enjoy the party, blend in, and stay under the radar.

  At least that was the plan.

  Cameron

  “Here you go, boys.” Sara, one of the servers at Bell’s passed around our plates of food. Win or lose, it was our post-game ritual to all descend on Bell’s on Saturday night, and when Jase had called me up this morning, I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

  When I’d gotten home last night, Mom and Xander were both asleep. Dad had two beers on ice, waiting to toast our first win of the season. We’d stayed up late, watching old game tapes, talking about Pee Wee and JV. But we didn’t talk about the elephant in the room.

  And this morning, when I finally dragged myself out of bed, my muscles sore and bones bruised, Mom seemed in good spirits. She’d even made us all breakfast. It was nice. Normal.

  It was just like old times.

  “You need anything else, you just give me a shout, okay?”

  “I could use a good hard—” Mackey started but Sara cut him off. “You come back and see me when you’re twenty-one, hot stuff.” She winked, giving him a little smile before sauntering off, putting extra sass in her step.

  Mackey sank back against his chair and groaned. “What I wouldn’t pay to ride that.”

  “Sara’s hot but she doesn’t fuck football players,” Asher said, squirting ketchup all over his meal. “Not even QB One, isn’t that right, Jase?”

  “She’s got too much of a smart mouth for me. I like my women to talk less and suck more.”

  “Yeah,” Mackey added. “But imagine what she can do with those pouty lips.” A goofy expression came over him and Grady leaned over, hitting him upside the head. “Get your mind out of the gutter. We have a game to focus on.”

  “Dude, we just kicked Marshall’s ass last night. I think we’re allowed a little downtime.”

  “Fucking sophomores,” someone grumbled.

  “I heard that.”

  “Chill,” Jase said to Mackey as he cut his Bell’s Special Burger in half. The thing was just too damn big to try to eat whole. “We get it, you’re amped, but Kaiden is right, the only thing you need to be focusing on is the next game, and the one after that, right up until week ten. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Mackey grumbled. “Doesn’t mean I can’t look though, right?” His eyes slid back to where Sara was serving another table.

  Jase and I shared an amused look. We knew how it was: the raging hormones, the buzz of being gods amongst men. In a town like Rixon, making Varsity was a badge of honor that o
pened doors: to colleges, to girls, to a free pass for screwing up every now and again. But it also came with expectation and pressure. Expectation to be the best; to work hard and give your all. Joel Mackey might not have understood it now, but after a season under Coach Hasson and his team, he would. Those guys broke you down until you were nothing but blood and bone and then pieced you back together until you were hardened, inside and out. Until no team—no matter how big or strong or aggressive—was a threat. Rixon High’s football program built warriors. Molded young men full of heart and grit and determination. As Coach Hasson liked to remind us every chance he got, ‘great men aren’t born, they’re made’.

  And Rixon High only made the best.

  But there was no denying that sometimes it was a heavy burden to shoulder. And blowing off a little steam now and again was the only way to push through.

  “So, Jase,” Grady piped up. “What’s the plan for Rivals Week?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” The wicked glint in my best friend’s eyes had my attention.

  “Oh, come on. It’s only two weeks away; you can tell us.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  “But it’ll involve a little trip across the river, am I right?”

  “We should hit their place, tag some Vikings on their field house,” Kaiden said.

  “Or hack their social media accounts and troll the shit out of them.” Mackey grinned, clearly impressed with his own idea.

  “Speaking of which, Thatcher is talking smack on Twitter again.” Kaiden held up his cell phone. “Check this crap out.” He handed Jase his cell and the two of us scanned the screen.

  * * *

  @ThatcherQB1: What’s black and blue and broken all over? The Raiders after we get a hold of them #comingforyou #rivalsweek

  * * *

  Jase tensed beside me. “He’s a fucking idiot.”

  “If he keeps this up,” Kaiden said, taking back his cell. “Their Coach will have to step in. Snapchat is one thing, but Twitter is a whole other beast.”

  “Don’t sweat it. Come two weeks time, the only tweet he’ll be sending is: hashtag it hurts.”