#Rev (GearShark #2)

by Cambria Hebert

  “How bad did Con come down on you?” he asked.

  “Not very. He couldn’t.” Which was exactly why he never said anything to me about his plan. I had nothing to do with this.

  Drew nodded. “Good.”

  “Should I assume there’s more involved than just Hog Heaven?” I inquired.

  “You shouldn’t assume things.”

  I took that as a yes.

  Drew

  The media came to the football game.

  I don’t know why I was surprised about it, but I was. I really should have been used to them being around, especially since the new racing division was set to blow up at any minute.

  I had two endorsement deals with the ink dry, a magazine cover under my belt, and very soon, T and I would likely become a major media interest.

  Maybe that’s why I was surprised. Well, not surprised as much as cautious. The press didn’t know about Trent and me yet. I knew we agreed to tell them, to basically “come out,” but we hadn’t yet.

  We were going to have to be careful today.

  Careful how we interacted, how we looked at each other. How we were together.

  I hated it.

  Yet I understood.

  Ah, the paradox that was Trent and my relationship reared its ugly head.

  I wanted to be free to love him, but I didn’t want to make it a thing. I just wanted to be. It wouldn’t be a thing if I were with a girl. No one would bat an eye.

  I could sit here and think about how unfair it all was, how frustrating it was, and how sometimes it hurt, but really, what would it change?

  Nothing today.

  Tomorrow? Maybe. The interview with GearShark had the potential to maybe change a few things.

  So today it was what it was. We would be careful. We would have been anyway because the frat didn’t know; the Wolves didn’t know.

  But my parents knew. I could still taste their reaction in the back of my mouth. It tasted like rotten eggs and barf.

  I knew what that shit tasted like. I’ve played the game Bean Boozled.

  Bean Boozled = that disgusting game of jelly bean roulette where you had no idea what disgusting flavor you’d eat until it was exploding across your tongue.

  Their reaction and even sometimes looking at Arrow made me feel incredibly insecure to tell anyone else about my relationship.

  But then I looked at Trent.

  The doubt didn’t go away; it would probably always be there, but it no longer seemed like something I would allow to hold me back.

  The game was Omega versus the football team. I was playing with the football team. Yeah, the scrawny racer was playing with a bunch of literal pro athletes.

  Hopefully, I wouldn’t die.

  The football side was comprised of some Maryland Knights players like Romeo and Braeden, along with a handful of other guys, and the rest were guys from the Wolves. Even though Trent was one of the Wolves, he was playing with his frat.

  Since I wasn’t a football player, it was explained to everyone who asked (which was a lot) that the reason I was playing was to represent the new racing division. Because Ron Gamble owned the Knights and the new division and he cut a huge check to the charity we were benefiting today, he requested I (his new face of racing) be allowed to play as well.

  It was good press after all.

  Really, I was just here so I could legally cause some bodily harm to four guys on the opposing team, but no one needed to know that except the family.

  The turnout today was more than I expected. I always heard how much Alpha U loved football, but to see it was something else.

  And holy crap, did people like Romeo. He was literally swallowed whole by a huge crush of fans the second he walked onto the field. More than once, I glanced up at Rimmel in the stands, but she didn't seem fazed by it at all. It was like it was nothing new.

  Braeden was getting almost as much attention, but then again, Ivy was, too. She had her own fan base now because of her column and YouTube channel.

  The vibe of the game was casual, meaning people who’d bought tickets were allowed on the field before the game started to meet and greet the pros. It was madness, but it explained why so many tickets were sold.

  Even though this idea was born out of the need for revenge, it really was a great event and supported a worthy cause. We raised a shit ton of money for the charity. Trent looked like a hero, and the frat was cast in a really good light.

  The game wasn't supposed to be full contact because obviously, the frat would get their asses handed to them. It was officially flag football with tackling allowed.

  Unofficially, I didn't care.

  Before the game was set to start, the fans were told to find their seats, and once the field was clear, the teams retreated to their sides. It felt weird to be on the opposite side from Trent, but it was a necessity. I found him in the group across the field. It was easy because he was the biggest one.

  Or maybe it was because I loved him.

  When I started thinking about the way he kissed me earlier and how he said he wanted to be inside me, I had to look away. If I didn’t, I was going to look like one of those cartoon characters with hearts in their eyes.

  Lame.

  The press would have a damn field day.

  Romeo and Braeden approached and took up position on each side of me. They both had their flags already fastened around their waist. We were wearing Knights colors, and the frat was wearing Alpha U colors.

  “Crush ‘em, but don't break ‘em,” Romeo said quietly.

  “You're getting soft in your old age,” Braeden told him.

  “At least make it look like an accident." Romeo conceded.

  Braeden offered me his fist, and we bumped it out.

  The entire team got together and talked strategy. Obviously, Romeo was the quarterback, and most other positions were filled. I was put on defense. Strange because I wasn’t that big, but no one questioned Romeo.

  Our game wasn't going to be as long as a real football game, but the fans didn't care. They cheered and flocked to the stands like nobody's business.

  I avoided the press, who was especially interested in our side of the field like a plague, and breathed a sigh of relief when they were escorted away so the game could begin.

  Our team won the coin toss, so we got the ball first.

  I smiled under the helmet when I saw three out of the four guys who attacked Trent were playing offense, including Con. I wasn't sure where the big one was, the one who’d been friends with Trent up until he started thinking T was gay.

  I looked for him earlier but had yet to lay eyes on him.

  The ball was snapped and the game began. I knew the basics of football, but I wasn't an expert. It really didn't matter anyway. I went right for Conner.

  He was in my direct line of sight, and I charged him. I sank low like I knew Trent did and didn't hesitate. I bulldozed into him and took him down. He landed with an ooomph beneath me. I quickly "scrambled" up and "accidentally" kneed him in the balls.

  “Ugghh…” He rolled to his side.

  “Man, you okay?” I asked. “My bad.”

  He rolled onto his back and glared at me. His chest was heaving, probably because his boys were barking.

  I offered him a hand to help him up, but he knocked it away.

  I smiled. “Have a good game.”

  The distinct flare of panic in his eyes when I spoke made me extremely satisfied as I turned to walk away.

  Braeden lived up to his “Hulk” status during the game. That guy was a freaking beast on the field. It was quite the contrast to the guy I saw with my niece and sister. But it sure was hella fun to watch. He took down guys like nobody’s business, and by the end of the first quarter, one of the guys who jumped Trent was escorted off the field with a limp.

  As the quarterback, Romeo wasn’t really in the position to tackle, but he still managed. He ran the ball a couple times and used his upper body as a battering ram when Conner or a few ot
her guys got in his way.

  Of course, we couldn’t make it look like we were targeting a few players rougher than the others, so we couldn’t take them out every play, and we had to actually play the game.

  It was fun actually.

  Watching Trent in his element was awesome. The only other time I saw that kind of passion in his eyes was when he talked business with Gamble. He played quarterback for the frat. It wasn’t his usual position, but he was the best choice. Plus, it was a little less “contact” for his ribs.

  I had a feeling Romeo pretty much warned his Knights players to back off Trent, and of course, the Wolves already knew about his injury because they’d been training with him while it healed.

  A couple times, T got sacked, but not hard enough to reinjure him. Still, each time he went down, my heart skipped a beat. Shit, I had no idea how Rim and Ivy dealt with this all the time.

  Romeo seemed to realize how I was feeling, which made me wonder if I was being obvious. Before Trent took the field again, he was at my side. “Why don’t you play out there this round?”

  I glanced at him. “Why?”

  “You notice Con’s out there this go around?” He hitched his chin toward the field.

  “What the fuck?” I muttered. “He wouldn’t take down someone on his own team. That would look shady.”

  “Unless it was an accident,” Romeo said.

  I wouldn’t put it past him. He’d already taken a bunch of cheap shots at Trent. “I’m going,” I said.

  Romeo called in one of the other guys, and I jogged out to take his place.

  Trent glanced at me momentarily, but his eyes didn’t linger.

  The ball was snapped into Trent’s hands. He held it, looking for an open pass. When he found one, he threw the ball. Most players followed the ball, but my eyes stayed on T. I even let the player by I was supposed to be blocking.

  It’s a good thing. I wasn’t the only one whose eyes stayed with him. Conner cut across the field toward Trent. He shoved one of the opposing players back, and it looked pretty legit.

  I knew better.

  I took off in a sprint toward my person and Conner. T’s eyes locked on me and widened. Then he saw Conner, and his expression changed.

  I increased my speed and ran full on, full throttle right into Con. I ran like I drove.

  Balls to the wall.

  We slammed together and fell in a heap. Both of us laid there stunned for a minute and then I started to pull back. Conner grabbed the front of my jersey and pulled me back.

  “What the fuck is your problem, fag?”

  Like oil and water, I let the slur roll off my back. “I think you know,” I snarled.

  I stood up and stepped back. Con leapt to his feet and lunged at me. Our arms locked together, and we started to struggle. He tried to kick me, but I twisted away.

  Trent yelled and ran forward.

  I ripped off my helmet and threw it on the turf. “Come on!” I challenged Con.

  Con whipped off his helmet, too, and took a step. Frat members grabbed him by the waist and restrained him.

  No one restrained me, but they all gathered at my back.

  “All right!” Con yelled. “All right, I’m good.”

  Everyone holding him let go.

  “Play!” one of the Wolves yelled, and players started to fall into position.

  I took one step, a single step away, and Con rushed me. I was expecting it, though. He was a little bitch and wanted to get in at least one hit. I plated my feet and swung around, using my momentum to propel my fist.

  It caught him right in the face. He went down hard.

  Blood covered his nose, and he lay there, dazed.

  “You’re gonna pay for that you faggot,” he slurred.

  I lunged at him again, but Trent appeared and wrapped one arm around my waist to restrain me. “Down, Forrester,” he whispered beside my ear.

  I pulled back, but my muscles quivered with readiness.

  I wanted to punch him again so bad.

  Braeden appeared and picked up Con off the ground by the front of his shirt. “The fuck you just call my brother?” he asked, holding Con up so his feet dangled.

  “I called him a dirty faggot,” Con spat.

  Trent tensed, and I gave him a warning look.

  Braeden glanced at the nearby ref. “You gonna eject this asshole, or should I make it so he can’t play no more?”

  Con started to struggle, and B batted away his attempts.

  “Ejected,” the ref called, “for use of derogatory comments. Unsportsmanlike conduct.”

  The crowd cheered.

  “What about him? He punched me!” Conner yelled.

  “You deserved it.” Braeden let go of Con, and he fell on his ass.

  “Back to the game!” the ref demanded, and everyone started moving around.

  A couple guys hauled Con off the field and sat him on the bench.

  Before walking back to the sidelines, I gave Trent a look.

  “I know,” he said softly. “I know.”

  I wanted badly in that moment to reach out and touch him. Just to give something tangible to what always seemed to be between us. We couldn’t, not just then.

  It actually kind of hurt.

  It hurt way more than anything Conner’s mouth could spew.

  We parted ways. As we walked, I felt the invisible tether between us stretching, but it didn’t break.

  Romeo clapped me on the back. “Nice save, Drew.”

  “Thanks,” I said, watching Con dabbing at his nose with a towel. Though in that moment, it didn’t feel like a save.

  Sure, I kept Trent from taking a hard hit to the midsection, a totally illegal hit considering he already got rid of the ball.

  But…

  Maybe I kind of understood why Trent wanted me to just stay away. I had this tingly feeling on the back of my neck now.

  Like maybe I’d just made everything worse.

  Trent

  Before the game…

  All the Omega members were gathered, changing before the game, laughing and giving each other shit just like always. It was a good time, but I sort of felt like I was viewing it all through a window, like an outsider looking in.

  But I wasn’t an outsider. I was the president. I was the leader of these men.

  I didn’t want to be.

  Not anymore.

  In fact, I was sort of embarrassed I had to be here—with them.

  I’d changed in the past few years here at Alpha U. Most of my changes happening within the past year. It was a natural progression of life, growing from a youth into an adult.

  For me, it felt like more.

  I guess I always used to feel like I was renting the space inside my skin. Like I was borrowing it or it wasn’t really mine. I was the football player, the jock. I was the frat boy, the playboy, the college student who knew what he wanted.

  I was who everyone saw when they looked at me. I met their expectations—no, I exceeded them.

  I’d always been a good friend, the kind who listened and faded into the background. The wingman. The sidekick.

  Things started to change. There was a gradual shift inside me. I fought that shift for a long time. But eventually, a crack in a foundation spreads and then everything sitting on it is in danger of sinking.

  My foundation didn’t just crack. It shook. It experienced an earthquake…

  And it was that earthquake that rebirthed someone new.

  The real me.

  I no longer rented space inside my skin.

  I owned it free and clear.

  I wasn’t completely changed, but I wasn’t the same either. Maybe a hybrid? A combination of the past and the present, which would carry me into the future.

  Like every new build, the walls and plaster would take time to settle. I was new, and I still felt scared.

  I was resolved.

  Not resolved to accept life, but resolved to live it.

  As I stood here in the
locker room, surrounded by men I once considered my brothers, I realized my circle was getting smaller. Not because four men in this group ruined it for everyone, but because I no longer needed to be here.

  After today, after I dealt once and for all with Conner and the three other guys who attacked me, I could phase out of the fraternity. I could hand over the reins to Jack and not look back. It was time.

  This wasn’t an experience I regretted, because it brought me to where I stood today.

  “You’re late!” one of the members hollered and snapped me back to the here and now. I looked up. It was Daniel.

  I think of all the four guys who jumped me that night, it was him I was most disappointed by. There are some people you just expect better from, so it royally sucks when they turn out to be a lot skeezier than you thought.

  Daniel and I rushed Alpha Omega together. We went through Hell Week together. We even had a couple classes together back in the day when we were still taking basics. He’d been a friend. We partied together, drank together. We were brothers.

  And then he held me down and whispered things like, “People like you belong in hell,” while I was beaten.

  Conner was a real shit-bag. But somehow, Daniel seemed worse.

  I guess because with Conner, you always expected something like that, but not from someone you thought was your friend.

  He’d avoided me since that night. I only ever saw him during frat events and meetings. I saw him once on campus, and he physically crossed the street to get away from me.

  I liked to sometimes think it was because he was ashamed of what he did. But I knew the truth was because he thought I was disgusting.

  So how come I was the disgusting one, but he was the one who acted out of his own disgust?

  Daniel was looking a little rough around the edges and a little dazed and confused. His short, dark hair was mussed, and he was gripping a paper in his hand like his life depended on it.

  “Where the hell you been?” Jack called, who was standing off to my left.

  Daniel glanced up at him. “Sorry. I had a meeting with my career counselor.”

  “On game day?” Jack questioned.

  “It was sort of an emergency.”

  “What kind of emergency?” I spoke up.

  Daniel looked at me and frowned.