Page 55 of Thunderstruck
He turns to the house and shouts, “Turn it off!”
Two faces disappear from a dark window at the same time the blinds fall closed.
Cole leaps to his feet, but I tighten my hold on him so he doesn’t go far. “I’m gonna kill them,” he grumbles.
It is taking everything in me not to start laughing. “I think it’s adorable.”
“Van Morrison?” he shouts at the house. “Really?”
A slightly muffled voice replies, “It’s a classic!” I have no idea which one of them speaks.
Cole sighs. “We should head out. It’s your first game tomorrow.”
I am so excited to see the Thunder in action, even if I feel wildly unprepared for my role on the sidelines. Hopefully no one gets injured and I can just be there to supply water and encouragement. I’mgreatat encouragement.
“We’re sneaking out the side gate,” Cole says, tugging me to the side of the house. “They don’t deserve to say goodbye to you.”
It’s not until we’re in the car and halfway to Cole’s other house—Gramps’s house, I guess—when I remember. “Oh, what did Ethan say?”
Cole’s expression grows hard, which doesn’t feel very promising. “He said we’ll just have to wait.”
I don’t like that, but at the same time, I almost don’t care. Tonight was another great night with Cole, and as long as I can keep learning more about who he is, does it really matter what people say about us?
Hollywood Hot Scoop
Is Cole Carousing with his Coworker?
In a shocking twist,it seems local rugby hero Cole Evanson is finally over his ex. Who’s the lucky lady who won his affection?Hollywood Hot Scoophas the answer! Carissa Paxton, sister-in-law to the World Series-winning pitcher, Houston Briggs, has recently joined the LA Thunder staff as a rehabilitation specialist. It seems the locker room showers aren’t the only thing steaming up at the rugby stadium. A Scooper caught Carissa getting cozy with our favorite player after yesterday’s practice.
That’s right! Cole has been caught in Carissa’s snare and looks more than ready to put his heartbreaking ex behind him. Is this true love? Or is Cole finally on the rebound just in time for Sage Morrow and Badgers’ Javier Gonzales to tie the knot? Carissa had better hope Cole doesn’t drag his feet like he did before, or she’ll be the next to run off with one of his teammates.
Vote below on which Thunderclap you think Carissa should choose when Cole eventually messes things up! The charismatic captain, Malcolm Auxier? Or maybe she’s more into beastly brutes like tightheadprop Harvey Kavinski? Pick your poison and get a coupon code for a ticket to tonight’s game against the Utah Warriors! And as always, make sure you hit that subscribe button, because I have a feeling we’re in for a wild ride. XO
Chapter Fifteen
Carissa
Would it be abad idea to ask Cole to explain the rules of rugby to me tomorrow? Probably. But I still like the idea of spending a good chunk of my Sunday with him, up close and personal as he walks me through a game that is as thrilling as it is bewildering. I’m motivated as much by a desire to spend time with him as I am by a real interest in rugby.
I’ve made it almost halfway through the game against the Utah Warriors without needing to do much outside of taping a few ankles and shoulders because Mel is pretty on top of things, which means I’ve spent most of the evening watching these big, burly men ram into each other without padding or inhibition. It’s fascinating the way nothing seems to stop the game like it does in other sports. Even when Moxie kicks the ball out of bounds—into touch, according to the Thunder’s announcer—the players are always ready to lift each other into the air tocatch the ball when it gets thrown back in. The ball gets passed over and over, sometimes too quickly to follow, and unless someone is running with it or kicking it forward, it always moves backwards. When someone gets tackled, Cole is there to grab the ball and keep it moving with a quick pass.
And the energy! The crowd is wild and loud and a lot more devoted to the team than I expected after such a quiet week, and there’s one particularly rowdy group that has all sorts of chants that they start up, the words echoing through the stadium as the rest of the crowd joins in.
The Thunder is up by ten points as we near the end of the first half, and I’m feeling good about the future of this game.
Hefting my backpack of supplies—tape, wraps, water, etc.—higher on my shoulder, I wander along our sideline as both teams set up for what I think is called a scrum. Half a dozen men on each side lock arms and duck their heads, creating a sort of structure held up by the strength of their legs alone. Cole rolls the ball into the middle of the pack and both teams start pushing, trying to be the stronger side as the ball makes its way beneath the Thunder’s legs. It reaches the back, and Cole grabs it again, tossing it straight to Moxie, who passes it sidelong to Sharkie. Sharkie makes it a few yards before he gets knocked down by a Warrior. Two other Thunder players join him and keep the Warriors at bay, getting the ball free for Cole to grab it and toss it to Moxie once more.
Moxie makes a break for it in between two of the Warriors, and the crowd goes wild. A defensive player moves to tackle him, but Moxie twists to the side to dodge, nearly running into another player. He pivots again, then crumples. Did he get tackled? I didn’t see anyone close enough. The ball slips from his hands, and a Warrior picks it up and runs, but none of the Thunder seem to care because Moxie’s still on the ground, hands fisting the turf and his teeth gritted in pain. The crowd stills.
My stomach twists into a knot.
I’ve spent the last forty minutes watching these guys collide into each other at breakneck speeds. Slam into the ground with every tackle. They all get up, bruised and battered but ready to keep playing. Seeing Moxie motionless on the ground has filled me with cold dread.
Thankfully, Mel isn’t frozen like me and is already on the field, crouching at his side and talking rapidly as she touches his right knee.
“And play will stop for an injury on the Thunder side,” the announcer says. His booming voice knocks some sense into me, and I dart forward to see if Mel needs my help.
Moxie is shaking his head when I reach him. “Not like this,” he tells Mel through measured breaths.
