Page 61 of The Sun
We formed a small huddle. As the middle lineman, it was my job to tell the dumbass defense what to do. Coach crossed his chest then pointed at his eye to signal our call. I pulled out my mouth guard. “Cross stunt left. Cross stunt left,” I called, and then we fell into alignment.
Brandon-fucking-McClure. Middle linebacker and the asshole that stole my girl was crouched about ten feet in front of me. Our eyes locked, and all I could see was him and her on the beach, his lips on hers at that party. And it didn’t matter how nice he was, I hated him for being all the things I could never be.
“Blue fifty-two. Blue fifty-two. Set. Hike.”
The ball snapped, and I lunged forward. My heels dug into the turf as I picked up speed. Lowering my head, I drove my helmet right into Brandon’s chest and wrapped my arms around the back of his thighs, picking him up. I drove his ass into the ground.
“Hu-ugh!” Brandon hit the field with a thud.
Adrenaline buzzed through me as I hopped to my feet, fist clenched at my side. Brandon drew his legs to his chest on a grunt and rolled onto his side.
“Black!” Coach shouted. “What the hell are you doin’, son?”
Turning toward the sideline, I yanked out my mouthpiece. “Sorry, Coach. Wrong call.”
The second Brandon was up, his helmet was off, and he was in my face. Cheeks red and eyes wide. “What the fuck was that, huh?” His palms smacked against my pads, shoving me a step back.
Shit, that boiled my blood. “Sorry, man.” I pushed him. “Didn’t think you were such a pussy.”
He went to throw a punch, and I ducked just as Judah snatched me by the arm and pulled me back. “What the hell, dude? Calm down before you get kicked off the team.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ben grab Brandon.
“All right. All right.” Coach stepped onto the field. “Enough!” He pointed his clipboard in my direction. “I don’t care how much of a beast you are, Black. You pull some dumb shit like that again and you’re suspended for a game. You hear?”
“Yeah, Coach.”
I pulled on my helmet. As shitty as it was, I didn’t feel any better than I did before I laid his ass out.
16
Sunny
There were already whispers about Travis circulating Robertsdale’s hallways Monday morning. News like that makes its way around a little country town faster than a chicken on a June Bug.
Daisy followed me to my locker, blabbing about Ben and Brandon and a bunch of crap I couldn’t have cared less about, but I had to look at her and nod my head like I was interested.
She stopped midstride, one side of her lip lifting in a half-snarl. “What the hell is on your locker?”
I turned, my heart near death when my eyes landed on a delicate silver necklace with a ring dangling, taped to the metal. My throat burned. My vision blurred. He had held onto that ring for nearly ten years, and now, after he tried to make me sloppy seconds, he was telling me nothing we had mattered. Like I had done something to him.
“Hel-lo?” Daisy sang. “What’s with the necklace?”
Without a word, I snatched it off and crammed it in my jean pocket. “Something I lost.”
“Uh.” Daisy wedged herself between me and the wall of lockers. “Who would’ve known that was yours? I wouldn’t know that was yours. I’ve never even seen it.”
“An asshole.” I forced a withdrawn smile before slamming the metal door.
“Why do I feel like you’re totally hiding stuff from me?”
“Just don’t, Daisy. Not today.” I brushed past her.
“Jesus. Fine.”
When Daisy and I walked into Miss Weaver’s class, someone had writtenLockhart’s full of queerson the board in blue marker.
I dropped my books on my desk and marched up to the front to erase it.
