Page 32 of Saving Barrette

My eyes move from her hips to over her shoulder where I see Eva watching with curiosity, and then to where Roman is watching. He’s not looking at me. No, his eyes are on Barrette’s ass that my hands are on. I look away from him. If I don’t, I’ll break his fucking jaw for watching her like this.

Barrette looks at me, her face inches from mine. I see it then. I’m comfort for her. She can fall to pieces before me and I’m holding it all together.

“What are you doing to me?” I whisper in her ear. She could stab me in the heart at this point and it wouldn’t hurt as much as it does to know this might not work. It might be too much for her at any time and I’m going to have to pump the brakes. In my fucked-up sense of reality, a world without her in it isn’t worth living. So I’ll do anything she wants.

Her eyes water and I hold her closer. I want to fucking kiss her in front of everyone. I want to fuck her against the wall in front of this room just to let them know she’s mine. And I hate that I’m thinking that way because she deserves better.

“What?” she asks, her breath hitting my skin. It sends shivers through my chest.

My face is close enough that I smell her sweetness, the coconut of her shampoo, but she smells like me too. She smells like my sweat. My scent is all over her and I like that. “You.” Pulling back, I watch her reaction, feeling her chest heaving against mine, her heart beating wildly against mine. “What areyoudoing to me?”

She hesitates to answer. “I don’t… I don’t know what you mean?”

I curve an eyebrow at her, she stops moving.I love you. And in a sense, I hate you.It’s harsh, I know, but the hate I have isn’t for her, it’s our situation and the future that might not be. Because of them. Because she won’t report it.

She waits for me to say more, to put words to my expression. I don’t and I study her face. I see a broken girl dying inside and I’m going fucking insane. She’s trying to be brave when all she’ll ever be is a shadow of the person she once was.

We’re standing together, no longer moving and her hands slip from my shoulders. “You don’t want this, do you?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just not sure you’re ready for it.”

Her eyes narrow. “You don’t get to decide what I’m ready for, Asa.” And then she turns to leave. I try to reach for her, but she’s at Joey’s side before I can get to her.

Damn it. They leave and I let them. She doesn’t need me to follow her and demand to put a meaning on this. She needs Joey and I need to let her.

My mind races with thoughts when Roman approaches me. “Put in a good word with JoJo for me,” he says, his arm around my shoulder. He’s high, his pupils so dilated you can no longer see the blue in his eyes.

I stare at him, anger pulsing through me. “Why, so you can treat her like shit when you’re done with her?” Joey is nothing like the girls he fucks around with. He goes for super skinny, tan, and blonde. Joey’s tall, thick, with jet-black hair.

“It’s not like that.”

“With you it always is.” I know what he puts Cadence through. He offers her a few nights, maybe a month of his time before he fucks it up and he’s screwing around on her. He puts that poor girl through hell.

WHEN I’M BACKin my dorm, I stand at the sink with the water running. When it’s cold enough, I splash the water over my face and then stare at myself in the mirror, wondering what the fuck my problem is.

I read this quote by Plato the other day in my philosophy class, and this jumble of feelings I have for Barrette jumped up and started screaming at me when I read it. “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”

That’s where we are right now. Everyone’s afraid of the dark, afraid to emerge back into the light of the living.

I LOVE HOMEgames but playing on the road makes me feel like I’m going somewhere. Like I have more to offer than just college ball. The week following that home game, we travel to eastern Washington to play the Cougars.

Four times that week I find myself in Barrette’s room and though I don’t intend for it to lead to sex every time, it does and it’s good. We’re good, even if we’re hiding from reality. I fight with myself to demand more, and just as easily, I tell myself it’s enough if it’s what she needs.

I sit next to Terrell on the bus and use his shoulder to get some sleep—something I don’t get during the week. He lets me until I drool a little down his shirt sleeve. He pushes me off him. “Dude, gross.”

I laugh, my phone finding my attention. There are two texts from Barrette wishing me good luck and one of her sending me a kissing emoji.

I’m tempted to blow off the game and rush to her dorm. Fuck football if I can’t have her, but I know that won’t solve anything. Maybe time away is what we both need. Unfortunately, since I had sex with her, something changed between us. For both of us. I knew it would happen too. I knew it, and I did it anyway so I can’t place blame on anyone but myself. The problem is the change for me is fucking obsession. I want her, all the time, every minute of the day and I’m afraid the attachment I have to her is bordering on unhealthy.

We arrive at the Cougars stadium and it’s our usual routine, pregame rituals, praying, taping ankles, talking to the offensive coordinator and the starting offensive line and going over plays. It’s a good couple of hours before we take to the field. When we do, it’s all business. There’s usually very little joking around and game faces in place. College football is way more intense than what you would think.

I know what I can do on the field. I know where plays can happen and where they can’t. I know the strong guys, and I know the ones who tend to get caught up. Roman’s strong, he rarely gets caught up. I can trust that if I throw to him, he’s gonna be there. Same with Dem. I know where both of them are at all times and, yeah, I favor them on the field because of that.

I’m having an amazing game throwing for over 366 yards so far. My passing is spotless even though the guys I favor on the field are covered a lot. In the first and second quarters, I’ve run the ball three times already.

Halfway through the third quarter, I call the play, looking left, then right, seeing the boys poised and ready. The ball snaps I take two steps back, then another. I see Roman midfield but then I’m jarred from the left, blindsided, feeling the reverberation through my skull. Right before my head snaps back, I see Codey on the ground when he should have been blocking me. My helmet goes flying and then the next thing I remember is about twenty guys are around me.

If I could have kicked Codey’s ass right then, I would have. That one knocks me pretty good. I can’t even stand up without seeing stars. They don’t let me off the field without strapping me to a backboard. I do see Codey as I’m being hauled into the locker room and make him come closer to give him a piece of my mind. I grab hold of his jersey. “You need to protect me in the pocket.”

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