Page 104 of Unwritten Rules

Kelly tried to stop us but got tangled up in the rubberneckers and groups of people just trying to get out of the stadium. I was on my own with Garrett dragging me away.

We got down the field where a few players mingled around, and he released me from his grip. “Good. Now we’re alone.”

I promptly smacked him across the face. “You do not get to ignore me and drag me off like that.”

A shocked look colored the rest of his face while my handprint left a nice red patch. “What the hell, Fal?”

“Why the hellare you causing a scene like this?”

He gripped my arms, his eyes frantically searching mine. “Fallon, I have been trying to tell you what is going on and that I hadnothingto do with it.”

I shook his hands off my arms and took a step back, holding my arms across my body in a protective stance. “We cannot be seen together, no matter the circumstances.” I turned my head and started to walk away to leave him standing there.

But this motherfucker gripped my wrist again.

“Hey,” a voice came from behind. “Is there a problem over here?”

Garrett’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “What are you doing here, man?”

“Not much,” the voice said coolly, a tone I recognized well. “Just wondering why you’re hassling a pretty girl when it’s obvious she wants to leave.”

“U-uh,” Garrett stuttered. “You know how it is with girlfriends, man. They get mad at you.”

Brent came into view, arms crossed. “Yeah, man. I know how it is.”

Garrett’s face relaxed into a grin, thinking he could talk his way out of this. “Then you don’t mind giving us some space to talk?”

A chuckle came from deep in Brent’s chest, dark and dangerous. “Yeah, dude. I mind,” he growled, his eyes darkening with a predatory glare.

I watched as Garrett began to grow weary, more fearful of Brent. Was it wrong that I found Brent's intimidation factor kind of... hot? Garrett threw his hands up like he was facing down a wild animal. “Woah. I was just talking to her, Brent. She’s my girl-”

Before I could blink, Brent's fist connected with Garrett's face in a satisfyingthwack. I backpedaled, eyes darting around as guys materialized out of thin air, drawn to the smell of rising testosterone levels and impending violence like sharks to chum.

Lots of footballers en route. Both teams.

It was a veritable football player buffet because both teams were piling in. The North Ridge Panthers, looking lost and confused, glanced around like they'd stumbled into the wrong field. Suddenly, one of them started hollering at our team, accusing us of cheating our way to victory.

Oh, sweet baby Jesus. This was about to turn into an all out, Friday Night Lights meets Fight Club brawl.

I tried to catch a glimpse of Brent, but he'd chased Garrett–about twenty feet away from the brawl in front of me–and tackled him to the ground. He was on top of him, landing punch after punch with a sickening smile across his face. He was a shark, and he smelled blood.

That man could throw down, good heavens.

Backing away into some semblance of shadows to try and stay out of view, I watched in a mix of horror and awe at how men could just... punch and kick the crap out of each other. It was equal parts terrifying and mesmerizing, like a car crash you can't look away from.

Kelly would be eating popcorn. Shit, right. I need to find Kelly.

My options were to stay in the corner in a safe-ish manner or run past the brawl in search of Kelly. The timing to find my fight or flight response was happening, and my body chose the third option—freeze. I was staying in the corner until someone came and collected me.

A few staff members, referees, and faculty came to break up the fight, claiming it was started by the away team. They weren’t technically wrong, but they weren’t right either. Brent had to be pulled off Garrett by three large men before his jacket was straightened out for him and one of the men pointed away from Garrett.

I was still in my corner, hidden from view.

He stormed over to me, blood on his knuckles and a drop of blood leaking from his split lip. His eyes burned with his unleashed fury as he closed the distance between us. “What did he say to you? Did he do anything to you?” he asked, searching for any reason to go back and kill Garrett.

“I-I don’t think so,” I forced my words out, blinking up at him.Was I hurt?

Without waiting for an answer, he gently took my hand, lifting it to inspect my wrist. There were clear marks on it from being gripped so many times over the course of about an hour from two separate men.

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