by Liv Reid
Coach Hill is blowing out his guts into his tiny red whistle. We all turn and hustle back over to him in the far end of the field.
I don’t get the chance to tell the guys about my new state of purgatory because for the rest of practice Coach Hill runs me hard. He usually runs me harder than the other guys because I’m the quarterback, but today is especially bad. However, I actually don’t mind. I want to be the best and if I keep playing the way I have been, then I’m on my way to the draft. Easily.
The NFL is my ultimate goal. That’s why I don’t give a shit about class or anything else that’s not football. But what Coach said in the dean’s office got to me a bit. I’m good and there’s no way I won’t find a team, but maybe my reputation will make one of my top choices reconsider.
My brain is all messed up, and I’m pissed. I don’t want to have a nanny, and I especially don’t want it to be her. Why did it have to be her?
I slam my shoulder hard into one of the new players. He drops like he’s been hit by a 747 and lands on his back in the grass. One of the assistant coaches blows their whistle and the drill stops.
I take off my helmet and brush the sweaty hair off my forehead with the back of my hand. The guy I hit is laying on the ground and gasping like a fish out of water. The medic rushes over to examine him.
“Calm down, Mace, this is just practice,” a freshmen player says to me.
I look at him and whatever he sees in my eyes sends him scampering away.
I’m the first one into the locker room after practice. I yank off my sweaty uniform and throw it into the laundry bin for our team helpers to take care of. It’s a volunteer position, and I don’t know why in the hell anyone would ever want it. How could someone be so desperate to get close to the football players they’d willingly do all that bitch work? But I guess that’s just Winterford University. Everyone worships football here.
“What the hell has gotten into you, man?” Camden asks, as he walks in and heads to the locker next to mine. “Think you almost killed a couple of those guys out there. You trying to get a murder charge or something? The Org could probably get you off, but you wouldn’t like the cost.”
I yank off my pants and throw them in the bin. I wrap a towel around my waist, and I’m about to respond when I get distracted by my abs. They look particularly good today. Probably all that insane work the coach put me through made them really pop. I flex a bit before opening my mouth to respond.
“—For fuck’s sake. Pretty boy can’t help admiring himself. Save it for the ‘gram,” Knox grumbles and heads to the locker next to Camden.
I can’t help but laugh. Lovable asshole Knox. If there’s one person who’ll call me on my shit, I know it’s him.
“Okay, listen, this is what happened.” I tear my eyes away from my very defined eight-pack and look behind me to see if Holden is here.
He walks up, flicking his sweaty dark blond hair off his forehead with a jerk of his head.
“Sup?” he asks.
I turn to all of them. “You won’t believe what just happened to me. You know that rocker-looking chick, Sadie Edwards?—”
“Pregnancy scare,” Holden cuts in. He nods knowingly. “We’ve all been there.”
“What?” I ask, then I’m forced to think about fucking the trailer park princess and it makes me shudder. “Hell no! No, no, it’s worse.”
“Oh.” Realization spreads over Holden’s face. “Wait, is she the one whose mom broke up with your dad?”
I nod, and something painful that I don’t want to examine too closely pulls at my chest.
“That little kiss ass?” Knox asks.
“That loser?” Camden adds.
I nod again.
“Yeah, her. Well, anyway, Coach called me into the dean’s office earlier and threatened to kick me off the team.”
The three of them suddenly stop what they are doing, and I have their full, undivided attention. They stare at me incredulously.
“He can’t do that!” Camden yells. “He doesn’t have the fucking authority.”
“Who the hell does he think he is?” Holden asks.
Knox just shoots a death stare towards where the coaches are standing. The look in his blue eyes could pierce through steel, and I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that glare—though I have been a couple of times in the eight years we’ve known each other, and it wasn’t pretty.
“He said I party too much and that my grades suck,” I add.
“We all party too much, and all of our grades suck—well, except Holden,” Camden says.
Holden shrugs with fake modesty then asks, “But what does that have to do with that loser Sadie?”
“Apparently the Grim Reaper’s girlfriend gets into too many fights and is also in danger of getting kicked out,” I say.
“Not surprising,” Holden says. “The cheerleaders really hate her for some reason. She’s been on their shit list ever since she first got here.”
“Probably because she walks around with her nose in the air acting like she’s so much better than everyone else. She’s just asking for it. I’d kick her ass too if I was a girl,” I mutter. “Anyway, they told me she’s my new fucking minder.”
They all stare at me with “WTF” written on their faces, and I realize this whole thing would be comical—if it wasn’t so fucking awful.
“They said she has to keep me out of trouble, and I have to keep her from getting into fights if we both want to stay in school. We have to hang around each other all the time now.”
I shake my head like it’s a death sentence—because that’s what it feels like. Hanging out with Sadie Edwards is going to be worse than death.
“They can’t do that,” Camden says. “No one can kick you off the team. You made a deal—” He stops suddenly and looks around.
He steps closer into the circle and lowers his voice to a whisper. “You made a deal with the Org to be on this team. Coach doesn’t have the authority to kick you off. They are just bluffing.”
“Fucking stupid of him to even try it if you ask me,” Knox growls.
“You must really be pissing the school off for them to even try this,” Holden adds. “But there’s no way they can do that.”
I start to feel a bit better. They are right. I already knew all this, but hearing them say it just cements it and makes it real. The school has no grounds to kick me out. No matter how badly I embarrass the team, they are stuck with me.
“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, guys.” I breathe out a sigh of relief, but then my other problem suddenly springs to the front of my mind like a noxious smell. “But what am I going to do about her then? Miss Goody Two-Shoes doesn’t have the Org’s protection, and I saw the look on her face. She’s desperate not to get kicked out and sent back to the trailer park. She’s going to be riding me hard so she can stay in school. I don’t know how in the hell I’m going to get rid of her. ”
“Just sleep with her and never call her again. Best way to make them feel unwanted,” Camden jokes and goes back to getting undressed. “Always works for me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Holden asks. “Do you want stalkers? Because that’s how you get stalkers. Sleeping with them and not calling them just makes them want you more. Remember Kristy? Or Michelle? Or Emma, or Cathy, or Bobbi, or Beth, or—”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Camden laughs. “Oh man, Emma…” He looks at the ceiling wistfully. “I wonder what she’s doing right now. Maybe I should give her a call…”
“I’m not going to fuck TP.” I shudder involuntarily at the thought, and the towel slips lower on my hips.
“Well, she’s kind of hot at least,” Holden says.
He takes off his shoulder pads and throws them on the bench.
“Sadie Edwards is not hot,” I scoff.
What the fuck is wrong with Holden?
“It’s hard to tell under those baggy band T-shirts, and all that hair dye, but she has a cute face, and I suspect she has a good body,”
Holden continues. “I’d probably fuck her. Knox?”
“Yup.”
“Oh, come on,” I say. “That’s not fair. Knox would fuck anything.”
“Yup.”
“Me too. Would do,” Camden adds and slaps me on the shoulder as he walks passed.
“Are you guys serious? Is there something I’m missing? I feel like I’m in the twilight zone,” I say in disbelief as we make our way to the showers. “She dresses like a metalhead groupie and on top of that she has the worst personality. She’s a stuck-up, judgmental kiss-ass. I can’t stand the girl.”
“I think thou doth protest too much.”
“Shut up, Holden,” I mutter.
“Doesn’t matter though because even if you wanted to fuck her there’s no way she’d go for you. Remember those couple of times you met in high school? She hated you. There’s no way you could get into those metalhead panties no matter how hard you tried,” Camden says, as he turns on the water.
His words slap me in the face, like the rush of hot water coming out of the showerhead.
“I could if I wanted to.” What he said hurts my player pride. There’s no girl Mason Law can’t get—and based on my track record, I’ve proven that more than once.
“Please,” Knox says. “You couldn’t get with that chick even if you fucked her with someone else’s dick.”
“Are you guys serious?? I think you’ve all gone fucking insane. First, saying that Sadie Edwards isn’t the bridge troll that she is, and second, saying that I, Mace Law, couldn’t fuck her if I wanted to. Did someone spike your waters? If I even so much as hinted at it, she’d be salivating at the thought of riding my dick. I’m the fucking quarterback and she’s some nobody loser. Are you crazy??”
Camden shrugs his tattooed shoulders. “I’m just saying, I think this is the one girl in the entire world that can’t be wooed by Mace Law, star quarterback of the Winterford University football team. I feel for you, man. I can’t imagine having to hang around a chick I have no chance of sleeping with.”
“Talk about torture,” Knox adds, as he steps under the water and it rushes down his gigantic back.
“You’re all fucking crazy. I 100% could—if I wanted to, but I don’t. Obviously.” I start scrubbing shampoo into my hair angrily.
“Want to bet?” Holden asks, and my head whips around.
“Oh, hell yeah. This just got interesting.” Camden grins.
Even Knox gets a small smile on his hard face.
Betting is a big deal in our crew. It all started when we were kids in youth football together. When someone bets you, you have to take the bet. It’s a serious thing, and because it’s such a big deal, we don’t make bets lightly.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“Dead. Serious. I, Holden Axton, bet you, Mason Law, that you can’t get Sadie Edwards to sleep with you.”
“Why would you do that to me?”
“I’ve had a couple of classes with her, so I’ve seen how she handles herself. There’s no way she’d go for you. She’s not like the other girls around here—or her mother, for that matter. She’s not going to be swept off her feet by your trust fund or quarterback status, or your handsome face and washboard abs. You don’t have a shot in hell of winning this bet.”
“You’re an asshole, Holden. Not only can I sleep with her, but it’ll be easy. Beneath that tough exterior she’s still just a girl, and no girls can resist me.”
Knox and Camden snort, but then Camden adds, “Well, based on past experience, he’s not wrong.”
“See, Holden, if even someone as thick as Camden can see that then you should too,” I say.
“Hey!” Camden says indignantly, but he’s not actually pissed. We tease each other all the time because we’re more like brothers than friends.
“But just because I can, doesn’t mean I want to. And you’re an asshole, Holden, for making me do this.”
Holden smiles in a devious way. “Luckily for you, that won’t be a problem. You won’t have to sleep with her because there’s no way she’ll let you.”
“This will be the easiest bet I’ve ever won. This’ll be easier than the time when we were twelve and you bet me I couldn’t steal a baseball glove from that store. That was a weak-ass bet, and so is this.” I turn back under the water and scrub furiously at my dark hair.
I can’t believe I have to do this. Sadie is nothing like the girls I normally go for. She has dyed burgundy hair and wears baggy band shirts from lame acts no one has ever heard of. It’s like she wears them to show how much better she is than the rest of us because we’ve never heard of Monster Garden or whatever. She’s trying to show the world how unique and original she is, but she’s just like every other rocker girl. Her style screams ‘trailer park’.
I don’t want to do this.
I groan and slam my hand against the tile. I let the hot water rush down my body.
I’ve never let myself think of her sexually—her personality turned me off too much for me to ever look at her like that—but I guess I’m going to have to now. I push passed my initial revulsion and slowly run my mind over her entire body.
I suddenly realize in surprise that those band T-shirts might be covering a nice pair of tits. I run my closed eyes down over her ripped jeans and can see her ass in my mind. Those black pants hug her thighs tight and I realize she’s got a great, curvy body. What the hell? When did that happen? And why wouldn’t she show it off more? Why would she cover herself up when she’s got curves for days? People might actually like her more if she did. What a loser.
I turn off the shower and am about to turn around when I realize my dick is hard. Fuck. I can’t believe thinking about my enemy could do that to me.
I reach over and grab my towel. I tie it around my waist before turning around. I’m not embarrassed about my cock. When you have one that looks this good, you want to show it off. I’ve had girls’ mouths literally drop open in awe when they saw it, and they weren’t just doing that to stroke my ego—well, okay, maybe a little. But I cover up because I don’t want the guys to get the wrong idea about me showering with them.
We walk back to the locker room, and I’m pissed at Holden. One, for making that bet, and two, for making me realize Sadie Edwards might be hot. That was something I could happily go my entire life without knowing, because now I kind of want to fuck her, but her personality is so horrible it’s ruining it.
“Hey, don’t be mad,” Camden says when he sees the look on my face.
He puts his arm around my bare shoulders.
“You have to admit, it’s a good bet,” Holden says.
And he’s not wrong. It’s a really good bet. I just wish I wasn’t the one who had to do it.
I grumble a reply.
“Come on, let’s get shit-faced. That’ll cheer you up,” Camden says.
“I can text the girls so they’ll be there in an hour. You know you need to give them plenty of notice so they can put on their eyelashes and shit,” Holden says.
“I can call in an order to our hook up. The house is running low on booze,” Knox adds.
I think about it for a moment and realize Camden is right.
“Yeah, that would cheer me up. Thanks, guys,” I say with a small smile.
5
Sadie
I stomp back and forth across the pavement in front of the student center. I angrily look at my phone to see the time. 10:18 a.m. He’s not here yet, and he hasn’t replied to any of the texts I sent him this morning telling him to meet me here at ten. Where the hell is he?
At 10:26, I finally see him walking calmly across the grass. He has on dark sunglasses and a takeout coffee in his hand that’s practically the size of a barrel.
I stop pacing and wait for him. My arms are crossed over my chest, and I’m sure I look like the least friendly person in the world, but I don’t care.
He eventually reaches me and says casually, “Good morning. What a beautiful day to be alive, right?”
A second later, the smell of booze wafts over me like a tsunami, and I have to take a step back.
“Whoa!” I cry out and put my sleeve over my mouth. “You reek. Did you go swimming in a beer tank or something?”
“I may have had a drink or two last night. Sue me.”
He takes a sip from his giant coffee and it’s then I notice how rough he looks. He’s swaying a bit, and his usually styled hair is hanging over his forehead carelessly.
“Are you still drunk?” I ask incredulously.
He shrugs in that irritatingly casual way of his.
“There’s a good possibility,” he slurs slightly.
I groan out loud.
“Is that why you stood me up yesterday evening?” I ask.
His brow furrows behind his sunglasses. “We had a date last night?”
“OMG, no, you idiot. We were supposed to meet here at seven yesterday. Remember? Outside the dean’s office we talked about it and we both agreed to meet here to discuss what we were going to do about our ‘situation’. I texted you like a million times yesterday. Did you not get them?”
I’m so frustrated I’m ready to wring his neck. He looks around and then slowly takes a sip of coffee. I know he’s drawing this out on purpose to piss me off—and it’s working. I press my lips together hard so that I don’t say anything and wait for him to respond.
Finally, he says, “Yeah, you need to chill with that. You sent me like thirty texts. It kept ruining my buzz when I’d look and see someone was blowing up my phone.”
I groan again in frustration. “Well then, why didn’t you respond?!”
I’m so frustrated and annoyed I’m practically shaking.
“Are you looking for an apology?” he asks.
“That would be a start.”
“I’m sorry… that you’re upset,” he says condescendingly and takes another sip of coffee.
“Ugh!”
I seriously cannot stand this guy, and I don’t know how in the world we are going to be able to work together without me killing him. I’m going to get kicked out of school for sure.
