Page 129 of Fighting Spirit

It’s been three days since Ruth walked out of my life, and I’ve been like a bear with a thorn in its paw ever since. Trevor’s been trying to get me to talk about it, but the only thing I’ve left my room for has been practice. That’s only because if I missed it, Fitz would show up at my place and physically drag me to the field.

If I’m honest, though, I might as well have stayed at home. Even though my body’s here, the rest of me is elsewhere. It’s just hard to put my all into it when I can’t help but feel like this is the exact thing that cost me her. If I hadn’t been such an idiot andhad just told the guys what Ruth meant to me way back at the start, then maybe none of this would have happened.

The shrill sound of the whistle has us jogging toward the coaches. I hang at the edge of the group as Fitz leaves us with some parting words. The atmosphere buzzes as it dawns on everyone that we’ll soon face Allbreck for the conference championship. We head toward the lockers, and I can’t wait to get clean and finally put on something warm.

A week ago, I’d have been as fired up as everyone else, ready to finally complete the task I started as a freshman, but it’s hard to feel anything other than the hollowness that rattles in my chest. I’m moving through a haze, a fog obscuring everyone and everything. The only thing that seems to pierce it is the blinding pain that spears me every time I think of her, her agonized expression haunting me at every hour.

When I hit the locker room, my plan is to grab my shit and get out of here, but as soon as I step through the door, I realize that’s not going to happen.

“Get fucked,” I growl out as I take in the group of guys sitting in a semi-circle, folding chairs dragged through from the meeting room, all looking at me with hangdog expressions.

“We gotta do this, Ro.” Jasper smiles glumly.

“The fuck we do.” I spin on my heel, determined to get the hell away from this makeshift intervention, but thick arms wrap around each of mine, and I’m all but bundled into a chair. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong withyou?” Taylor asks, leaning forward in his chair. It’s almost comical that all of them are squashed into this room, all looking so serious. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I might even laugh.

“I’m not doing this.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“We’re worried about you, man,” Darius says quietly.

I slump slightly. “You don’t have to be.” My attempt at reassuring them is met with blank stares.

“We kinda do,” Christian pipes up, “especially when you’ve been an asshole to everyone all week. This isn’t like you.”

“Can I not just be in a bad fuckin’ mood?”

“No!” he says. “Not this close to the final. It’s affecting everybody, can’t you see that?”

“Josh asked you to look at his form yesterday and you nearly bit his head off,” says Taylor, “now him and the rest of the freshman are too afraid to talk to you.”

“I’m not his coach,” I growl, “it’s not my job to take care of them.”

Christian continues, “we need to be united, now more than ever, and if you’re gonna go off the rails, then we need to know about it. Because we either got to get it fixed or lock you in my trunk for the next three days so that you can’t infect everyone else with whatever crawled up your ass.” It’s not like him to lay down the law, but I have to admit, it kind of suits him.

“I don’t know why you’re all acting like this is anything to do with you. My game is fine. I’ll be fine on Friday. So what if I feel like shit? I’m not your captain. I’m not your coach. Hell, I’m barely even your friend these days so just leave me the fuck alone!” I spit it out through gritted teeth.

I get up to escape, but I’m stopped by Darius’ confused voice.

“You’re not our friend?”

Fuck, this is not how I wanted tonight to go. “You tell me.” I laugh bitterly. “Kinda feels like you guys only talk to me if you want to ask me about football stuff.”

“Well, yeah.” Christian frowns. “Because you basically know everything. We know you’ll have our backs.”

I don’t know how to get them to understand. I drag in a long breath, scrubbing a hand over the stubble that’s started to grow in. “You never want to hang out anymore. It’s like ever since youfound out I was gonna be a coach next year, I stopped being part of the team.” I can’t look at them as I say it, too afraid to see something in their faces that tells me I’m right.

“You really feel that way?” The question comes from Jed, the last person I’d expect to be speaking in the sad, bewildered tone he’s currently using. I shrug in response, not sure what else there is to say.

“Dude,” Jasper murmurs, and he sounds so sad that I can’t help but look up at him. “You know we love you, right? I think I speak for everyone when I say that you’re always gonna be our friend. Yeah, it’s gonna be an adjustment for you to join the staff, but it doesn’t have to be a big deal. As long as you don’t plan on turning into a ball-busting prick.”

“I might bust your balls, just a little bit.” I try to smile, but I doubt it’s all that convincing.

“We just ask you about game stuff because we trust you,” says Darius, “we know you’ll give it to us straight, but that you’re not gonna be a dick about it.”

“You’re a lot more approachable than Fitz,” says Taylor.

---